sign in sign up
<<
Home , Gerald Heard, Ian Barbour, Idealism, Karel Werner, Nondualism, Theosophical Society

Rebuilding the Foundations of Deep

A Nondualist Approach

by Dara Linda Miriam Tatray

A thesis submitted in fulfilment of the requirements for the Degree of Doctor of

2006

University Of New South Wales

Contents

Acknowledgments 5

Introduction 6 The Case Against Deep Ecology 9 A Qualified 16 What is Required from a New Metaphysic 19 Aims 21 Approach 23 Thesis Outline 28

1. The Project of Ecophilosophy 32 Ecocentrism 33 Towards a More Realistic Philosophy of 36 Is There a Need for a New Order in Ecophilosophy? 38 Addressing the Problem of Scientific 40 45 Intrinsic Unity as the Basis of a New 47 and Nonduality 49 Nonduality and Nonlocality 53 Reverence For Life 55 and Social Change 57

2. The Deep Ecology Approach 60 The Emergence of Deep Ecology 70 Deep Ecology and Green Consciousness 75 The Deep Ecology Approach 79 The Ecological Self 81

2 Self-Realisation 89 The Nature of the Self 92 Âtman as Pure Consciousness 96 The Deep Ecology Version of Self-Realisation 99 Freedom Not Attachment is the Way of 106 Capital “R” Realisation 110

3. and its Association with Deep Ecology 112 113 The Theory of Successive Emanations Re-evaluated 120 Central Tenets of Religio-Philosophy 125 Direct Intuitive 127 Consciousness and the Intuitive Faculty 132 German 135 Developing the Faculties 140 Self- and 144 Defined 147 The Deep Ecology version of “Perennial Philosophy” 148 A Tradition of Philosophic Dissent 152

4. Deep Ecology Under Fire 157 Problems with the of Self-realisation 159 Deep Ecology Rides Rough-Shod over “” 165 Popper and Plumwood on Unity 169 Deep Ecology Has Nothing to Contribute to Deliberative Democracy: Or Has It? 173 A Critique of Green 175

3 Of What Use is a Green ? 179 Direct Action and Nonviolence 184 RIC Projects 186 Inspired Activism 189

5. Panpsychism and attempts at Inclusiveness 194 Organism and 195 Change in Values 197 as Purely Material 200 Bruno on Matter 203 The Primacy of Unity 209 Towards a Re-evaluation of Matter 213 The Whole is a “-Thing” 214 Matter as a Unity 216 The of Matter 218 A Communicative Order 219 in Matter - an ancient precedent in Sânkhya 220 Towards a Rational 224 Yoga and Freedom 227 Some Other Approaches to Freedom 230 Counteracting Ignorance and Passivity 232

6. Krishnamurti and Bohm 234 Bohm on Matter and Mind 243 Order 248 Freedom 251 254 The Role of Dialogue 255

4 The Untapped Potential of Attention 261

7. Foundations for a Nondualistic Framework 266 The Place of or the Ultimate 272 Evolution and Time versus 275 Order and the Nature of 281 and Consciousness 286 Process 292 Who Decides what is of Value? 297 Action in a Nondualistic Framework 298 The Doctrine 300 Implications of the Karma Doctrine 306 Karma Yoga 309 Ethical Dilemmas in a Nondualistic Framework 312

Conclusion 316 Bibliography 323

5

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Thanks are due to Freya Mathews for sending chapters of her book by e-mail while I waited for it to arrive soon after publication. Also to Warwick Fox and Robyn Eckersley for permission to quote from their impromptu e-mails, especially to Dr. Fox who allowed me to do so in spite of the that our brief correspondence revealed a large area of disagreement between us. Thanks also to my supervisors Paul Brown and Anthony Corones, particularly the latter, for patiently reading through several drafts.

As an external student living in Lismore, some 800 kilometres away from campus, my greatest debt is to the staff of Interlibrary Loans and Document Delivery at the University of New South Wales. Books and articles have been ungrudgingly obtained for me from other libraries in Australia, in Britain, and in the , and sent to my home on a regular basis. It would not have been possible for me to conduct this research without their help.

I would also like to thank John Seed for inviting me to the 4th Earth Philosophy Australia camp. It enabled me to meet a number of highly committed philosopher- activists, and to the Council of All and other Deep Ecology practices at first hand. It also gave me the opportunity to participate in a mini ecophilosophy seminar conducted by Val Plumwood, one of Australia’s foremost eco-philosophers, in a forest setting snug in the Mt. Warning Caldera.

Finally, my husband has been an unfailing support in the years during which I was uncommunicatively attached to my desk researching and writing this thesis. Now he may enjoy a well-earned reprieve.

6 Abstract

Rebuilding the Foundations of Deep Ecology: A Nondualist Approach

This work examines the representations of in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, and the negative response of critics to the Self-realisation approach. It then goes on to suggest that a deeper engagement with the nondualistic Naess embraced could lift out of the Cartesian framework in which it appears to be bogged down. Deep Ecology has been accused of politically ineffective, and letting down the environmental movement, because it remains insufficiently engaged with debates concerning power, class, sex, and other hegemonies that occupy the of social ecologists, ecofeminists, and cultural studies theorists. I argue that Deep Ecology is not as ineffective as detractors claim, but that it remains philosophically undeveloped, and has not provided sound foundations for environmental .

The qualified nondualism I advance, based on Vedânta, the work of David Bohm, and (to a lesser extent) Platonic , treats , society and the as intelligent creative systems in which the interrelated parts are expressions of a vital generative order to which each is actively related. The Self is a of the cosmos, engaged in the process of a more complete reflection of the totality. In all of this the nature of consciousness as vast creative intelligence is paramount, and freedom dominates the entire process from beginning to end. This thesis offers an opportunity to rethink of value, moral considerability, and the nature of the empirical self, from a nondualistic perspective. It proposes that "intrinsic unity" might replace the community as the foundational moral for environmental ethics. In the process, emphasis shifts away from the objective sphere and settles firmly on the thinker and thought. Following Bohm and Krishnamurti, I argue that conditioned thought is the only barrier to (inner) freedom and creativity. Most important, the of nondualism privileges processes of Self-realisation, and reveals the limitations of the empirical self. thought as a process then becomes something of a moral imperative.

INTRODUCTION

This work begins with an examination of the representations of the Perennial Philosophy in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, and the negative response of critics to the Deep Ecology approach, but soon goes on to address some of the broader issues within environmental ethics disclosed in this exchange. With supporters from diverse cultural and ideological backgrounds, Deep Ecology is an international social movement dedicated to the protection of nature. It is also a new philosophy of nature with self-proclaimed links to what Bishop Steuco, Leibniz, and Huxley referred to as the philosophia perennis, a body of philosophic approaches to -empirical problems concerning the nature of , the relationship between matter and spirit, the nature of the noumenal world, and the relationship between the empirical self and the universal Self.

George Sessions once claimed that Deep Ecology is ‘the new Perennial Philosophy’ (Sessions 1981, p.417). Nevertheless, although the connection has endured in the literature of the movement, both as a recurring theme in the writings of Deep Ecology theorists, and as the cause of consternation amongst their detractors, it has not been seriously questioned - or perhaps it has simply not been taken seriously. The of a Perennial Philosophy is problematic and contentious. As William Quinn Jr. points out, the term might be used variously by, (1) those who promulgate the philosophy as such; (2) those who promulgate either identical or similar , without labelling them as Perennial Philosophy; and (3) those who merely write about these principles and the tradition as existing (Quinn Jr. 1997, p.67). In the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, the latter two usages are evident.

In The Reason, the Understanding, and Time Arthur Lovejoy makes a compelling case for the bankruptcy of the notion of the "Romantic" (Lovejoy 1961). Among other

7 things, Lovejoy argues that because the word romantic ‘has no generally understood ’, it is ‘useless as a verbal symbol’. Without a single accepted meaning, the romantic is not ‘open to discussion, or comparison with any objective matters of fact’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.x/xi). Although this equally applies to perennial philosophy, it does not necessarily imply that the concerns and interests subsumed under that term are unfit for public discourse. What may be of questionable value is a classification with no generally accepted meaning. In many cases, the ideas themselves are staple fare in the history of metaphysics. In Primordial and Postmodern , a dialogue with , David Ray Griffin has shown that the concerns of thinkers who identify themselves with perennial philosophy can be addressed satisfactorily, without recourse to that contentious term (Griffin and Smith 1989).

Looking more closely at what are regarded as the central characteristics of perennial philosophy by those who identify themselves with this tradition, such as Huxley, Smith and Schuon (see Figure 2), we find a number of recurring themes which have also found their way into the literature of the Deep Ecology movement. Among these, the positive valorisation of direct intuitive perception is prominent. Doctrines of direct intuitive perception, or nondual perception, feature in the literature of , in the , in the Bhagavad Gîtâ and in the Patañjali Yoga Sûtras and be analysed in terms of their possible usefulness to environmental ethics on the basis of their treatment in those traditions. Lovejoy is highly critical of the notion that there is a superior faculty to that of reason, but in The Reason, the Understanding, and Time he gives an excellent, though sarcastic, account of the (Western) development of the of intuition or direct perception (Lovejoy 1961). His work will be discussed in due course.

When speaking of things such as , intuition, , awareness, and other forms of experience generally regarded as part of the contemplative or mystical tradition, I do so keeping in mind an approach taken by the historian of Paul

8 Oskar Kristeller when he referred to a . As Kristeller expressed the idea:

The word mysticism easily makes us think of all kinds of visions, and of a tradition that is religious rather than philosophical. Yet we may be permitted to speak also of a philosophical and metaphysical and even of a rational mysticism which opposes an inner experience of God and of the intelligible world to the common external experience of the daily and corporeal world, but interprets this inner experience through rational and philosophical (Kristeller 2001, p.121).

There are available to us many different ways of contrasting what Kristeller called the inner experience of God with the common daily experience, which is outwardly focussed. The distinction between inner experience and experience that is outwardly focussed is one of them. Disciplines of the Râja Yoga tradition, such as pratyâhâra or withdrawal of the , offer several techniques geared towards turning the mind within, freeing it from contact with the outer world of sensation and focussing it on consciousness itself, ultimately leading to the nonseparation of knower and known.

Bergson and others have recognised two different ways of knowing a thing: there is the way of intuition (Bergson), or transcendental insight (the Buddhist prajñâ), in which there is no separation between the knower and the known; and analysis or reason, which examines a from different points of view and always remains outside and separate from what is observed. Most schools of Hindu metaphysics including Yoga and Vedânta also recognise four states of consciousness representing degrees of abstraction or inwardness. These are the waking state (jâgrat), the dream state (svapna), deep dreamless sleep (sushupti) and a transcendental state usually known only as the fourth (turîya). Although we are generally not aware of the fourth transcendent state, it is said to be part of the human constitution and has been likened to the âtman, which is universally diffused and of the nature of intelligence. What we normally think of as

9 mystical experience can thus be regarded as innate to one of the ways of knowing (nondual) and to one of the states of consciousness (the fourth).

Further, I would like to point out that when speaking of so-called mystical states, of God-consciousness, or of final Liberation, we might also include an inner experience with a practical importance and perhaps even necessity. This might be described as clarity and insight into what we are doing and what is taking place, without which our everyday lives become repetitious, stale and confused. This puts mystical or inner experience on a different footing altogether, removing it from the realm of magic and elite aspiration, placing it in the midst of the rough and tumble of life. Following on from what David Bohm and J. Krishnamurti have maintained, I would argue that this clarity does not come from thought, but rather from what Bohm called insight and what Bergson called intuition.

The extent to which Naess and other Deep Ecology authors deviated from traditional interpretations of key notions such as the âtman or universal Self will be made clear. More important, however, the potential value of such conceptions when understood in their broader context and more clearly defined, will be demonstrated. In this field Bohm's work on the limitations of thought and the potential of attention stands out. His work has received little attention in the Deep Ecology movement, but I hope to show the extent to which Bohm's treatment of wholeness and fragmentation, of thought, attention, insight and intelligence, complement Naess's approach, providing a firmer metaphysical footing for environmental ethics than Naess achieved.

In short, the present thesis attempts to develop a nondualistic framework for environmental ethics incorporating some of the of Platonism, , and Hindu metaphysics (Yoga, Vedânta, and Sânkhya). As mentioned, it begins with an analysis of the present position of Deep Ecology. Elements of nondualistic metaphysics that have found resonance in the literature of the Deep

10 Ecology movement include philosophic and substance , models of oneness or unity, the doctrine of Self-realisation, the primacy of consciousness, and the value of contemplation. I argue however, that a close reading of key Deep Ecology texts reveals that they offer a diluted version of some of these doctrines.

THE CASE AGAINST DEEP ECOLOGY (BRIEFLY)

Deep Ecology has been accused of letting down the environmental movement by not being sufficiently engaged with current debates concerning power, class, sex and other hegemonies which occupy the minds of social ecologists, eco-feminists and cultural studies theorists. It is also regarded as politically ineffective. Most trenchant criticism has issued from those on the postmodern eco-feminist left, critical of the Deep Ecology focus on Self-realisation and nondualism. John S. Dryzek has compared its attitudes to the Third Reich’s ‘reverence for (German) nature and fatherland’’ (Dryzek 1990, p.200). John Barry has accused Deep Ecology of forcing people to be spiritual in its attempt to “re-spiritualise” nature, arguing that in the process, Deep Ecology has left ‘green politics bereft of anything substantially political’ (Barry 1993, p.45). Jim Cheney has objected to the words perennial, metaphysical, and intuitive as they arise in the literature, and he is not alone in describing Deep Ecology as a foundationalist, essentialist and “totalising” narrative (Cheney 1989, p.307).

In contrast to charges such as the foregoing, I claim that some Deep Ecology theorists have given key elements of nondualistic metaphysics a modern rather than traditional interpretation. At the same time I argue that, while its doctrines of direct action and nonviolence inspire supporters of the movement to be politically and practically active in defence of nature, Deep Ecology should not be regarded as politically useless, whatever its philosophic shortcomings may be. I believe this should be taken into

11 account in any assessment of Deep Ecology’s political effectiveness, and agree with David Rothenberg when he writes:

The value of deep ecology can only be assessed by considering how it has inspired some to change the way they live. It has changed the way environmental protests are conducted: A nature with value in itself is worthy of preservation for itself, and this has led to the practice of ecodefense - trees may not be able to grow spikes to save themselves, but we can help them out a little (Rothenberg 1993, p.128).

My main concern is not with politics however, but with the possibility that Deep Ecology remains undeveloped as a philosophy, and that it has yet to provide a viable alternative to the Cartesian framework in which ecophilosophy appears to be bogged down. A key element of the Cartesian framework to be questioned is the division of mind and matter into separate orders of being and the entrenchment of materialism. The rise to dominance of scientific materialism entailed a devaluation of the non-material aspects of life such as the eternal, the , God, consciousness (as understood in Hindu metaphysics), and also the whole field of values all of which have taken a back- seat to what can be seen, touched, accumulated and manipulated by thought. I say “manipulated by thought”, rather than by human beings, because, in the final analysis, the human being is also part of the natural order, possessed of intelligence and the capacity for tremendous creativity, insight and freedom. The human potential reaches far beyond that which thought currently conceives. Thus, the distinction should be made between the human being who is trapped in thought, identified solely with the body/mind complex, and unaware of the deeper sources or capacities within, and the healthy, whole, integrated human being in whom thought and desire have taken their proper place as secondary to the deeper realms of consciousness or what Bohm called the generative order. Although Enlightenment has long treated thought and reason as our greatest achievement, thought is regarded as a very limited instrument by Buddhists, Vedantists and Taoists, and by Bohm and Krishnamurti. Many philosophers,

12 including , , Schelling and Schopenhauer, have regarded what is here called nondual perception as a superior faculty to that of reason. I would prefer simply to say that there is a faculty other than reason and that it has its place.

The tension between doctrines of relationship and oneness evident in Deep Ecology literature illustrates the need for a new order, which transcends such polarities, including that between reason and intuition. I argue that these dualisms can be overcome by taking advantage of the metaphysics of nondualism. Thus, rather than caving in to criticism targeting the philosophical and political weakness of its links to the so-called perennial tradition, Deep Ecology may further pursue its engagement with nondualistic metaphysics and take full advantage of the latter’s conceptual resources. This I believe would put ecophilosophy on a firmer metaphysical footing. It seems to me, that in order to advance further in the direction in which Deep Ecology has already out, it will be necessary to re-consider traditional metaphysical subjects such as universality, nonduality, and intuition; and perhaps to take on board more, rather than fewer of these doctrines, even if in a new framework. Within the present Cartesian framework, such tenets are still as strange as action at a distance was to Newton, and nonlocality was (at first) to Bohm. Nevertheless, it may be the case now, as it was then, that these strange notions represent the way forward and not backwards, as might be supposed.

The inquiry into the metaphysical foundations of ecophilosophy is taking shape (in Australia) principally in the work of Freya Mathews, Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at Latrobe University, Melbourne. In The Ecological Self, arguably the most metaphysical work in the Deep Ecology genre, Mathews outlines a monistic metaphysic, which is underpinned by substance monism and informed by (systems theoretic) principles of self-realisation (Mathews 1994). As will be shown, the distinction has to be made here between self-realisation in systems theory and Self-realisation in Hindu metaphysics. In connection with a contemporary version of panpsychism, For Love Of Matter explores

13 the implications of attributing to matter a “subjectival dimension” (Mathews 2003a). At the third International Philosophy, Science & Theology Festival, held in Grafton New South Wales (June 2003), Mathews discussed her then forthcoming publication, posing the question whether matter itself might be re-animated, and if so, what might that imply for our relationship to the world? A view of matter as sensate, responsive, and alive might correspond with a new way of knowing based on listening (or in her words encounter), displacing the control and domination that has accompanied the -natured, de-animated dominant since the seventeenth century.

Thus, new work on panpsychism opens the door not only to a reconsideration of the nature of matter, but also to a re-evaluation of our conceptions of the divine and the spiritual. Implicit in the doctrine of panpsychism is the possibility that a deeper exploration of the empirical world may reveal the of a unitive dimension from which many in the past have inferred the presence of God, the Absolute, or the eternal. What is so far known does not explain all the operations of either matter or of nature. The attention of science has largely been focussed on what may turn out to be just the surface of matter and its transformations (Peat 1997, p.180). That does not exclude the possibility that there is something beneath the surface.

More promising than panpsychism, but in some ways related to it (or at least not antithetical), is the notion that life or consciousness is what is ubiquitous or primary. Life here means more than biological life and consciousness means more than thought or mind as generally conceived. Both can be taken to refer to the totality, the vastness, from which Plato and others have assumed everything emanates. This version of can be found in the metaphysics of Giordano Bruno (1548-1600) and that of David Bohm (1917-1992), as well as the Vedânta Upanishads, Sânkhya-Yoga, and the Bhagavad Gîtâ. Bohm can be classed as a panpsychist only in that he regards mentalistic qualities as enfolded in the generative order:

14 in the ultimate depths of the implicate and generative orders of the totality of matter, life, and mind. In this , therefore, even inanimate matter must have some kind of mental aspect … Of course, this does not imply that "consciousness" can be imputed to electrons or to other such "particles". This arises only at much deeper levels of the generative order (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.211).

I argue that calls to take the “other” into account, whether made by Deep Ecology or levelled at Deep Ecology, and whether it be the ecological or the human other, cannot be answered until the nature of thought is clearly understood. This view is suggested by Bohm’s study of thought, insight and dialogue. Far from representing an eccentric deviation from , Bohm’s study of consciousness and the relationship of mind to matter was part of his search for a new order in physics, and a development of his understanding of nonlocality. Bohm was of the opinion that while quantum theory represented a revolution in physics, the old Cartesian order still prevailed, assuming ‘the existence of infinitesimal points within a continuous, infinitely divisible space’ (Peat 1997, p.205). The 'serious contradictions and confusion' caused by trying to make both relativity and quantum theory fit the Cartesian order, and vice versa, is discussed by Bohm in Wholeness and the Implicate Order (Bohm 1980/1997). For the rest of his life Bohm would seek a new order in physics, one in which consciousness would come to play an increasingly central role (Peat 1997, p205-6).

As Bohm’s views of thought, attention and insight are central to the proposals advanced in this thesis, I would like to briefly outline his credentials at this point. Bohm was Professor of Theoretical Physics at Birkbeck College, University of and a Fellow of the Royal Society. A protégé of (Peat 1997), he authored a textbook on quantum theory, described by as: ‘one of the clearest and fullest, most penetrating and critical presentations of the Copenhagen point of view ever published’ (Popper 1982, p.36). According to Popper, Bohm’s hidden variables theory,

15 published in 1952, ‘proved the falsity of the constantly repeated dogma … that the quantum theory is “complete” in the sense that it must prove incompatible with any more detailed theory’ (Popper 1982, p.36-7). After reading Bohm’s papers on hidden variables, and having seen ‘the impossible done’, John Bell developed the theorem which ‘established once and for all that correlations exist at the quantum level that cannot be explained in terms of (local) classical theories’. With this, he established the 'nonlocality of subatomic nature' (Peat 1997, p.170).

Bohm's dialogues with the Indian philosopher/ were integral to the development of his understanding of the nature of intelligence and the limitations of thought. Having listened to and read those dialogues over some decades I would like to stress that it should not be assumed that Bohm was a follower of Krishnamurti's. Theirs was a long-standing dialogue among equals, with Bohm providing more intellectual rigour and Krishnamurti, perhaps, more personal experience of the states of consciousness discussed. That was clearly the impression Bohm had, at any rate. Indeed, Bohm appeared to be inspired by having met someone with a tremendous insight into the nature of thought and who appeared to be living in a state of great inner freedom. The extent to which Bohm was elevated by his relationship with Krishnamurti, and then bitterly disappointed at their subsequent falling out, is evident in Peat's biography of Bohm (Peat 1997). Krishnamurti's original contribution to the question of insight and direct perception will be discussed in due course.

Andrew Dobson has argued that it is a central assumption of green politics that ‘our social, political and economic problems are substantially caused by our intellectual relationship with the world and the practices that stem from it’. He finds that ‘those forms of thought that “split things up” and study them in isolation, rather than those that “leave them as they are” and study their interdependence’ have been treated as central (Dobson 1990/1995, p.39). Aside from occasional comments of that kind, little attention has been paid in environmental philosophy generally, or in Deep Ecology specifically,

16 to what forms of thought actually ‘leave things as they are’, if that is at all possible - or to Bohm’s argument that it is in the nature of thought to ‘split things up’. Bohm has suggested that to believe thought can ever leave things or see things as they are is a dangerous delusion (Bohm 1996).

The notion of some sort of unmediated discourse, the result of an act of scientific perhaps, has been questioned by Alessandra Tanesini, Donna Haraway, Sandra Harding, and other feminist epistemologists (an overview is provided in Tanesini 1999). Foreshadowing them, philosophers in the Yoga and Vedânta traditions paid sustained attention to the question of whether or not the mind is capable of seeing things as they are, and to what forms of thought split things up. This discussion is fundamental to the Patañjali Yoga Sûtras, to Buddhist , and to the Vedânta; and in large part it distinguishes Intellectus from ratio.1 If eco-philosophers could overcome their prejudgment of anything hinting at transcendence, much might be gained by closer attention to the critique of thought in Eastern and Western doctrines of nondual perception. It may be assumed that looking at the interdependence of things rather than taking a billiard-ball atomistic view is one form of thought which in Dobson’s terms “leaves things as they are”. Taking my cue from Bohm, however, I argue that inattention to the thought process or to thought itself serves only to leave analytical thought “as it is,” undisturbed in its role of translator, interpreter, and fragmenter of reality. Bohm’s view of thought is consistent with that of Buddhist and Vedantin and epistemology, and perhaps even takes their analysis of

1 Intellectus has been defined as intuitive thought, ‘the direct and simultaneous perception of the whole of the - the only adequate or complete form of knowledge, for which reasoning is merely a preparation in us’ (McIntyre 1903, p.341). Discursive thought builds up knowledge step by step but intuition sees directly. clearly articulated the difference between analysis and intuition when he pointed out that intuition knows directly but analysis is always a translation, ‘a development into symbols, a representation …’ (Bergson 1961, p.6-7). Bohm explored the question of thought and analysis with Krishnamurti. Their dialogue on intelligence, in The Awakening Of Intelligence, is one of many such inquiries (Krishnamurti 1986). Bohm also discussed the nature of thought in Wholeness And The Implicate Order (Bohm 1980/1997), and in On Dialogue (Bohm 1996).

17 thought further. At the very least, Bohm gives the limitations of thought a modern and very relevant interpretation.

The wider significance of this study, I believe, lies in its contribution to the ongoing inquiry into the metaphysical implications of ecocentrism or non-anthropocentrism. When asked whether, in her estimation, monistic have done more harm than good to the environmental movement, Eckersley replied by e-mail as follows:

I don’t think monistic philosophies have done more harm than good. On the contrary, they have played a vital role in sharpening the debate and prodding and prompting people to reflect on questions that have hitherto been repressed, buried or under-examined. Even if we have to compromise in the end out of respect for moral and cultural diversity, we have changed the shape of environmental discourse (Eckersley 2002).

Perhaps more than any other ecocentric philosophy, Deep Ecology has attempted to take a nondualistic approach and focussed attention on questions that have been repressed or ignored by philosophers in the analytic tradition. In the main, however, the literature of the Deep Ecology movement has not explored nondualism in great depth.

I would like to suggest that ecophilosophy is now awaiting a new order to match the implicate order in quantum theory. Although ecocentrism has revolutionised philosophy, Cartesian dualism still prevails, assuming the existence of self and other as distinct entities in infinitely divisible space; assuming the primacy of matter-mind dualism; and largely ignoring the deeper orders of consciousness and the non-empirical Self. In this context, notions of unity or oneness are likely to be misunderstood and rejected as imperialistic narratives. Nondualistic metaphysical systems suggest that the categories of self and other exist at one level, but that at deeper levels unity or

18 nonduality prevails. Despite some movement towards in philosophy, the unitive dimension has been neglected until now, even within ecophilosophy.2

It is also likely that, when more clearly understood, nondualism will not have to be compromised in deference to moral pluralism, as Eckersley suggested above. Moral monism has very little to do with nondualism. Moral pluralism can sit comfortably in the framework of nondualistic metaphysics. Pluralism is not antithetical to nondualism, but may, in fact, be safeguarded best in a framework in which the Many are in essential relationship with the One (making them fundamentally equal). Such a framework is thoroughly consistent with the inter-relationship, interdependence and co-creativity of the Many. The problems brought into relief by the juxtaposition of monism and pluralism, as in the criticisms of Plumwood and Cheney against Deep Ecology, can easily be resolved with the introduction of a new order based on intrinsic unity and wholeness, as conceived in the nondualistic systems reviewed in the present dissertation. This is the unity in all, which complements the unity of all.

A QUALIFIED NONDUALISM

What is being advanced in this thesis is a qualified nondualism in which process is primary and in which the One and the Many are given equal weight. The fundamental process is that of creativity and becoming, beginning with the emanation or unfoldment of the Many from the One. This process is reflected in the Path of Return, Nivritti Mârg, which is a process of self-transformation or Self-realisation involving the de- construction of the empirical self painstakingly established on the Pravritti Mârg, the Path of Outgoing.

2 As Charlene Spretnak has observed in connection with ecofeminist philosophy (Spretnak 1997).

19 At the outset, I would like to define nondualism as the negation or transcendence of dualism, not the absence of dualism. The doctrine promulgating the absence or non- existence of duality is properly called monism. Raimondo Panikkar has pointed out that etymologically the word advaita (nondual) denotes not one - which would have eka as its prefix - but the negation of two: a for negation and dvi for duality. Hence we have the term advaita instead of ekatva (Panikkar 1977/2001, p.656). In this way, as he explains, ‘nothing positive is added to the One; it is only negatively qualified'. The One remains 'without a second’ (Panikkar 1977/2001, p.656). This allows for plurality and unity to coexist (the plurality is a qualified unity), with neither totally negating the other. In a similar fashion, we might consider that the word transcendence implies "going beyond", thus giving importance both to the act or state of transcendence, and to that which is transcended: they depend on each other. The world is not to be denied, suppressed or demeaned but fully, directly, seen in all its richness of implication. This may involve what Spinoza referred to as adequate .

Panikkar’s interpretation of Advaita offers a third way to be considered alongside monism and dualism. His version of Advaita, consistent with that of Râmânuja, allows for pluralism:

[Not] as a competitor of the One, but as enhancement of effective oneness. It allows for a free interplay among all the tensions of existence, and yet does not dissolve the polarity of into irreconcilable parties with no interconnecting bridge … It discovers a dynamism in the very heart of the One, which itself longs to be many and is desirous of offspring … The Advaitic [nondual] character of reality does not permit ultimate dichotomies between matter and spirit, thinker and thought, creator and created … Nor does it blur distinctions … (Panikkar 1977/2001, p.657-8).

The word negation in this context should be explained. In religio-philosophic traditions, negation need not mean denial, dislike or suppression, but must instead involve

20 understanding, attention and awareness. The way to the One is via the negation of ubiquitous duality, not a denial of it or necessarily a denigration of it, but rather a transcendence of its limitations. This is an affirmation of both conditioned being (which is a process of becoming) and unconditioned Being, which is infinite and eternal. The “negation” of conditioned being, in the sense of seeing or understanding it as fundamentally conditioned, limited and contingent, is necessary for unconditioned Being to be realised. But this does not entail the end of existence. To exist is to be limited and to be conditioned, but it is possible for the human being to transcend these limitations and be inwardly free. The way to freedom and creativity for the human being is via the negation of that which is always conditioned and never free.

The coexistence of duality and the One, ubiquitous throughout the creation, is a common theme in Hindu thought, which finds resonance in some versions of process metaphysics, including that of David Ray Griffin. A number of process philosophers have suggested that time and eternity, the finite and the infinite, must be given equal weight in any really holistic metaphysic. The notion of the negation of duality, rather than its absence, is dynamic and fits in well with the processual nature of reality according to Whitehead and company.

What is meant by a qualified nondualism? In the history of metaphysics there are various kinds of radical nondualism, as in Sankarâchârya’s version of Advaita Vedânta; but also a counterpoint in the form of a qualified nondualism, such as that of Râmânuja. Râmânuja's position known as Visisthadvaita offers the most consistent critique of Sankara's absolute nondualism. It also seems to sit well with process metaphysics. Lipner defines Râmânuja's Visistâdvaita as 'the non-duality of differenced being', and as 'identity-in-difference' (Lipner 1984, p.155). In Râmânuja’s commentary on the Vedânta Sûtras the differenced being is âtman and , which, against Sankara, he argues are not absolutely one. Râmânuja maintains that although the essential nature of all beings is nondual, some difference will always exist. Thus his system is known as

21 qualified nondualism, arguing, for example, that in the case of gold and gold bracelets there is a difference of characteristics but the substance is the same (cited in Iturbe 2004, p.92). To exist would seem to always imply difference if "exist" means to step forth, to step out (from the non-differentiated All) as Lovejoy suggests.

Râmânuja’s position is also supported by the idea, prevalent in Hindu metaphysics, that the âtman is the essential nature of the human being, clothed in a number of sheaths or bodies with which we tend to identify. This is discussed more fully later in the thesis. The âtman may be regarded as nondual without making any such claim for the physical and mental bodies in which it is “housed”. Râmânuja also argues that Brahman is not entirely, or not always, without attributes (Nirguna). Visistâdvaita is a compound of advaita meaning nondual, and visesa, meaning attributes (Iturbe 2004, p.77). But that aspect is less relevant to the position advanced in this thesis.

WHAT IS REQUIRED FROM A NEW METAPHYSIC?

In terms of the present dissertation, what is important is that the metaphysic offers a credible alternative both to scientific materialism and to dogmatic theology. In exploring the nature of nonduality and promoting its significance without denigrating or denying difference, qualified nondualism offers that alternative.

Arran Gare has argued that:

[To] be systematic, philosophy should consist of a metaphysical system which, by characterizing the nature of physical existence, can provide the foundations for the natural and human , and by providing a basis for understanding life, humanity and society, provide the foundations for social, political, and ethical philosophy (Gare 2000, p.284).

22

Based on my interpretation of nondualism, I would characterise the nature of physical existence as ultimately derived from a deeper source and dependent on that source, as well as conditioned and limited; but, physical existence is also to be seen as possessing the power of horizontal and upward causation, and thus in some respects it remains independent of that on which it ultimately depends. Physical existence is a “contracted infinite”, in the Cusanus-Bruno sense; it has relative autonomy in Bohm’s sense, and it is a qualified unity in the Visistâdvaita sense.

Furthermore, the nature of physical existence has certain psycho-spiritual implications. We live in a world in which consciousness is primary. This is a position supported by several versions of process metaphysics, by Platonism, Vedânta and Bohm. As will be shown below, there is an important distinction to be made between consciousness and its content, between space and the bodies inhabiting space, between awareness and thought, and between the unmanifest and the manifest. The emphasis since the seventeenth century has been on bodies, and things, on the tangible, visible, manipulable elements of life: not on that which all movement and change depend upon, namely the in between, contentless consciousness and the Absolute. I hope to show that the nature of physical existence necessarily implies a non-physical or super- physical existent that has been sidelined since the seventeenth century and which must now be given at least equal weight at every level - metaphysical, psychological, epistemological and ethical.

Above all, what we now require from a new metaphysic is a reason to think and behave differently, a reason to stop exalting self-centredness and a reason to subject thought and the thinker to intelligent scrutiny (matters taken up by Bohm and Krishnamurti). Previously, philosophers and ethicists have sought this reason in alternatives to the view of nature prevalent in scientific materialism. Eco-philosophers have tried to show that nature has value in itself and/or that our survival and well-being depend on the health

23 and well-being of the non-human natural world. This has led to a movement away from anthropocentrism. But as has repeatedly been pointed out - and this is one of the foundations of the Deep Ecology movement - new are important but they do not ensure the end of destructive ecologically unsound practices and institutions. As Michael Zimmerman has pointed out, no theory on its own, not even the advocated here, ‘can bring about nondualistic experience’ (Zimmerman, 1988, p.25). What is needed in a metaphysic, I believe, are compelling to take the step from theory to practice and compelling reasons to pay attention to the limitations of thought.

The metaphysics of Vedânta, Yoga and present ample reason to subject the thinker to the scrutiny generally afforded only to the objects of thought. Vedânta draws a strong connection between boundless existence (sat), consciousness (cit) and bliss (ânanda), contrasting this tri-fold nature of unconditioned Being with conditioned existence, thought and suffering (which are co-extensive). With additional insights into the difference between thought and consciousness, Sânkhya offers another angle on the critique of thought. In Sânkhya, thought is regarded as a material process and classified along with the rest of matter or nature as distinct from spirit or consciousness (purusa). Consciousness is the unchanging backdrop and ultimate source of all mental and physical movement: the light without which nothing can be seen or done (in Plato’s system this would correspond with The Good). The attitude to thought of these mainly nondualistic systems is brought forward into present by Bohm and Krishnamurti in their discussion of the relative merits of thought and intelligence. They have pointed out that thought is the conditioned response of memory, in thrall to desire and fear, and a barrier to the creativity and intelligence of consciousness in which the world arises and subsides.

I hold the view that Deep ecology did not go far enough, either in re-visioning the nature of physical existence or in laying the foundations for a way of living that is radically different from that supported by scientific materialism. Attempting to enlist

24 the metaphysics, psychology and ethics of “perennial philosophy” was an early step in the right direction, but one fraught with difficulties not yet addressed other than by detractors. I hope to address that deficiency in what follows.

AIMS

The aim of this study is to explore the prospects and need for a nondualistic order in ecophilosophy, and to commence a preliminary formulation of such a framework. Based on an assumption that the of relationship and oneness, and that of monism and pluralism, present a theoretical impasse; the suggestion is made that a deeper engagement with nondualistic metaphysics would open new avenues of eco- philosophical enquiry, and enable outstanding issues to be re-addressed outside the parameters of the existing dualistic framework. This is the overarching aim of the thesis, which devolves to the following subordinate aims and questions:

ƒ What problems have arisen in connection with the affiliation of Deep Ecology and Perennial Philosophy? Does the Deep Ecology interpretation of nondualist doctrines shed any light on the prospects for nondualism in ecophilosophy? ƒ What elements of nondualistic metaphysics might profitably be added to the tool-kit of ecophilosophy, alongside the Self-realisation doctrine already adopted by some Deep Ecology theorists? ƒ What, if any, might be the role of tenets concerning the structure of consciousness, the limitations of thought, and the constitution of the empirical self? ƒ What might the revived doctrine of panpsychism have to contribute to the formulation of a more stable metaphysical foundation for Deep Ecology and ecophilosophy? ƒ I hope to adequately demonstrate that nondualistic systems not only accommodate doctrines of nondual perception, but also advocate the necessity of developing the

25 faculties of insight or direct perception which Plato, Bergson, Schelling, and Schopenhauer privileged. ƒ The relevance to ecophilosophy of the Krishnamurti/Bohm critique of thought will be explored. In particular, Bohm’s work on dialogue and attention will be shown to advance some of the insights of Vedânta, Yoga3 and German Idealism. ƒ I suggest ways in which the dichotomy of relationship and oneness, and of pluralism and monism, might be transcended in an understanding of nonduality or unity drawn from Upanishadic philosophy, the Yoga system, and the nondualistic metaphysics of Bruno, Spinoza and Bohm. Appeal will be made to the doctrine of a higher order unity embracing such polar opposites. This unity, discovered within the deeper recesses of the generative order, or of consciousness, is the ultimate source of order and harmony. Krishnamurti and Bohm have suggested that thought cannot touch that source, but only open itself to its renewing influence. Such openness is characteristic of creative acts. The extent to which thought is a barrier to creativity is explored in some detail. ƒ Addressing these questions, I hope to flesh out the as yet undeveloped nondualism of ecophilosophy, focussing on the need for spiritual growth.

3 In all cases in this dissertation, the word Yoga refers to the spiritual discipline and metaphysic known as Râja Yoga, one of the four main systems of South Asia. In the West, Yoga is almost universally regarded as a system of physical exercise or postures, known as asana (often given a rather callisthenic interpretation). This system of control and cultivation of the physical body is in fact one of the eight “limbs” of Râja Yoga. As Roger S. Gottlieb once acknowledged: ‘ like many of the estimated six million Americans who practice yoga now, I had little idea that these physical postures and weird breathing exercises were a small, and not at all self-sufficient, part of an ancient and vast system of philosophy and spiritual discipline. For what I took to be yoga was really , the physical component of the ashtanga or eightlimbed path of Raja (Kingly) yoga which … focuses on control or purification of consciousness as a way to realize our true identity, and to unify that identity with the essential nature of the universe’ (Gottlieb 1998).

26 APPROACH

In working through the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, I largely followed the approach taken by the Australian philosopher and environmentalist Richard Sylvan, when he set out to review the position taken by Deep Ecology. He ‘assembled the relevant sources’, and then ‘unscrambled’ the themes, deciding whether themes from different sources amounted to the same thing or not, deleting insignificant points, and finally arriving at some sort of a common position, a core, or basic theory: ‘the deep ecological ’ (Sylvan 1985, p.51). I ‘assembled the relevant sources’ as follows:

Figure 1. Authors reviewed

1st generation 2nd generation with affinities

Rachel Carson Warwick Fox J. Baird Callicott Lynn White Jr. John Seed Michael E. Zimmerman Arne Naess Freya Mathews William Ophuls George Sessions Harold Glasser Charlene Spretnak Bill Devall Joanna Macy Richard Sylvan Val Plumwood

The first generation Deep Ecology authors are Naess, the founder or labeller of the movement; Sessions and Devall who popularised the notion of Deep Ecology and were among the first to identify themselves as supporters of the Deep Ecology movement; and Rachel Carson and Lynn White Jr., two of the most significant precursors of Deep Ecology, raising many of the issues that Naess and others were to explore over the coming decades. Those classed as second generation sources had identified themselves as supporters or theorists of Deep Ecology at the time of writing the books and papers I consulted. Those with affinities have either expressed some form of solidarity with the

27 movement or have written works frequently quoted by first and second-generation theorists. Not all those mentioned in the third column are discussed in the text, though they were consulted in my construction of the Deep Ecology approach.

It was not difficult to then unscramble and classify themes because the key first and second generation Deep Ecology authors were quite repetitive. Certain themes recur in almost every anthology; among them, non-anthropocentrism, a critique of the technological fix, and the doctrine of Self-realisation.

In order to evaluate the Deep Ecology response to nondualistic metaphysics, or the lack thereof, I examine representations of nondualism, the âtman or universal Self, and the doctrine of Self-realisation in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, compared with their portrayal in traditional settings. My sources for these elements of nondualistic metaphysics lie chiefly in the work of , Huston Smith, , and two of the principal interpreters of Eastern thought to the West, the Buddhist philosopher D.T. Suzuki and the Indian philosopher-statesman . I also refer to a number of core texts in which doctrines of nonduality and Self-realisation arise, namely, Spinoza’s Ethics, Plato’s Republic and Phaedrus, several Hindu Upanishads, and the Bhagavad Gîtâ. The following diagram gives a partial summary of the authors and texts on which I rely for my portrayal of nondualistic metaphysics and Platonism as well as Hindu and Buddhist epistemology.

Many of the authors listed below are concerned with synthesis rather than analysis. Where focuses on conceptual clarity and the truth or falsity of knowledge claims, they or the doctrines they write about are rather more concerned with achieving a state of spiritual or psychological freedom. In many cases knowledge is replaced by direct intuitive perception as the way to the goal, the goal being a state of wisdom or freedom rather than conceptual clarity. This would not deny the validity of reason in their eyes; but conceptual clarity is not the ultimate aim. These various

28 approaches exhibit a consistency of purpose, orientation and method which might be described as religio-philosophy, if not perennial philosophy.

29 Figure 2. Authors, Texts, Doctrines, and Tenets

Authors Texts Doctrines and Tenets (writing on nondualistic (on which among others I (not corresponding line by metaphysics, or Eastern and these authors have line to the foregoing and not epistemology) drawn) complete)

Aldous Huxley The Bhagavad Gîtâ The philosopher is the lover of wisdom, concerned with Wilbur Marshall Urban Truth, rather than with Charles B. Schmitt conceptual clarity or Brihadâranyaka verification. Upanishad Huston Smith The object of real Lankâvatâra Sûtra knowledge is the Ananda K. Coomaraswamy unchanging reality beyond G.R.S. Mead Advaita Bodha Deepika appearances, which is more real and more lasting than Henry More Patañjali Yoga Sûtras the phenomena. Alexander Wilder Plato The Republic, and Wisdom, like freedom, is an I.K. Taimni Phaedrus innate capacity of the soul, D.T. Suzuki and the way to it is through Spinoza Ethics and contemplation, and the via S. Radhakrishnan Treatise on the Correction negativa. S. Dasgupta of the Understanding Direct intuitive perception, Emerald Tablet of Hermes rather than logical reason, is R.D. Ranade Trismegistus the mind’s highest faculty.

Self-realisation and âtman doctrines predominate.

The authors listed on the previous page are introduced in the text mainly at their first mention. Huston Smith and Ananda Coomaraswamy are highly respected in their fields of comparative , , and philosophy. Frithjof Schuon is not an academic, but Smith, Seyyed Hossein Nasr, Robert Ellwood and a number of other well-placed academics regard Schuon as an authority in the fields of and metaphysics. Wilbur Marshall Urban was Professor of Philosophy at Yale

30 University, a scholar who possessed a profound understanding of traditional metaphysics, which he termed Perennial Philosophy, and a sound understanding of analytic philosophy. His book, Language and Reality, was written in response to what he saw as the threat to traditional philosophy posed by the emphasis on language and prevalent since the publication of ’s Tractatus Logico- Philosophicus (Urban 1939/1961, p.11). In Language and Reality, as in other works, Urban defended the “intelligibility” of Reality and the importance of metaphysics. G.R.S. Mead and Alexander Wilder were scholars of Platonism and the Hermetic philosophy. Wilder began teaching school at the age of fifteen, then studied medicine and became a general practitioner, a lecturer, an editor and professor of physiology (frontispiece Wilder 1869/1975). Like Wilder, Mead was a contemporary and friend of Blavatsky. Both men had more than an academic interest in Platonic and Hermetic philosophy. Mead was secretary to the co-founder of the , , from 1889 to her death in 1891. His published works range over the fields of , , Neoplatonism, the Orphic and Mithraic Mysteries and the Upanishads.

Of my sources on Buddhist and Hindu epistemology and the Yoga system, Suzuki and Radhakrishnan are well known, the others less so. represented Cambridge University at the 1921 Congress of Philosophy in Paris, and is known to scholars of . His five-volume history of Indian philosophy published by Cambridge University Press (and Motilal Banarsidass in ) offers an interpretation of almost every found on the subcontinent. Dasgupta also wrote extensively on the Yoga system and Hindu mysticism, among other aspects of Indian thought and culture. I. K. Taimni was Professor of Chemistry at Allahabad University in India. He was a dedicated practitioner and scholar of Râja Yoga and Kashmir . His book on the Yoga Sûtras, The Science of Yoga, is frequently

31 cited by academics working in that field.4 Ramana Maharshi was one of the foremost exponents of Advaita Vedânta in the twentieth century, and revered in India as a Self- realised sage. R.D. Ranade was Professor (Emeritus) of Philosophy at Allahabad University who took an analytic approach to the philosophy of the Upanishads, explicating the varieties of psychological reflection, the philosophical problems, and the arguments with which the authors of the Upanishads were concerned.

A word should be said here about the manner in which the notion of nonlocality is used in this dissertation. In his biography of Bohm, David Peat notes that, when published in 1980, Bohm’s book Wholeness and the Implicate Order 'had an immediate appeal … to writers, artists, musicians, psychologists, and others who felt they had always experienced the world in this way and now had access to a powerful common metaphor' (Peat 1997, p.264). Similarly in the present thesis “nonlocality” is not used in a technical or mathematical sense, but as a guiding and, I believe, promising metaphor.

All classical physics theories are local, that is they assume a limit, 'on the degree of correlation between two particles' (Peat 1997, p.169). At the quantum level, however, correlations exist that cannot be explained in terms of local theories (Peat 1997, p.170). Nonlocality on the other hand, 'is instantaneous and appears to transcend the limits of space and time’ (Peat 1997, p.222). As Bohm describes it:

[U]nder certain conditions, particles that are at macroscopic orders of distance from each other appear to be able, in some sense, to affect each other, even though there is no known means by which they could be connected (Bohm 1990, p.274).

4 In a review Karel Werner writes: though Taimni is 'well versed in Sanskrit and has a wide knowledge of Indian thought, his book cannot be looked upon as a scholarly work … but rather is a deeply committed exposition of Yoga as the way to liberation from the sequence of incarnations. But his book is free from the usual deficiencies and incompetence of most of the popular literature … and can well be recommended to students as a valuable introductory reading on the subject' (Werner 1971). In my view the student would find more than an introduction to the metaphysics and psychology of yoga, which Taimni has gone into very deeply, but it is true that the author does not analyse the subject as an academic might.

32

The degree of correlation is either unlimited or of no relevance, when it comes to nonlocal effects. That being the case, quantum theory begins to trench upon the territory of metaphysics, which, unlike , has not restricted itself to the order of space and time. In terms of Upanishadic and Platonic thought, space-time represents an order rather than all that exists. In the Platonic system, space-time or the field of relativity would represent the visible world; it would not supplant the intelligible world, which is the field of eternity.

Finally, I would like to state my reasons for spelling Sanskrit words and names as I have. At times it may seem as if I have made a spelling error, or that the transliteration of Sanskrit from the Devanâgari script to English is not consistent from one publication to the next. The variation is due, in my case, to the unavailability of some diacritical marks, and generally to a variation within accepted practice. My computer is missing the horizontal stroke above vowels that would turn a, u, and i into their longer cousins, hence my use of â, û, and î. Also unavailable is a dot under the letters r, and m, which would have been useful when writing Rg Veda, and Samskrta. These are instead written as Rig Veda and Sanskrit. The word Sânkhya appears frequently. In the absence of the anusvâra dot under the m, which represents a nasalised n, Sânkhya is more correct than Sâmkhya, so unless quoting someone else, I shall represent all anusvâra m’s with the letter n (as is a common practice). I trust this goes part way towards explaining why the Vedântin sage, Sankarâcârya, can also be seen as Shankarâchârya, and Samkarâcârya.

THESIS OUTLINE

Chapter 1 outlines the project of ecophilosophy and some of the ethical problems to which Deep Ecology theorists have responded. It then advances a nondualistic approach

33 to value, and suggests that intrinsic unity might provide a basis for a new axiology which is not anthropocentric and which does not maintain dualism in any form. The revived doctrine of panpsychism is introduced as an example of a framework that transcends both subjectivist and objectivist positions in a higher order unity. In this nondualistic framework, subject and object can be seen as interrelated aspects of the one whole: both self and world, and the relationship between the two, being characterised by intrinsic unity.

The second chapter provides historical background to the emergence of Deep Ecology, and to some of the issues it has addressed. It also serves to situate the Deep Ecology movement in the wider context of environmental ethics and ecophilosophy. My treatment of the doctrine of Self-realisation, in both the literature of the Deep Ecology movement and the core texts from which the doctrine derives, is one of the pivots around which this thesis revolves. I believe it addresses a gap in the literature of Deep Ecology and of ecophilosophy, both of which lack an adequate analysis of nonduality, unity, oneness and universality. The obvious place to look for the necessary elements of such an analysis is the rich tradition of nondualistic metaphysics, Eastern and Western, including texts such as the Bhagavad Gîtâ, the Upanishads, Spinoza’s Ethics, Bruno’s dialogues, the Patañjali Yoga Sûtras, and such as the Lankâvatâra Sûtra. This chapter offers just a beginning, but I believe a sound beginning, of this missing analysis. The approach is to try to understand the relevant doctrines on their own terms, in the context of their parent traditions, and then to adapt them for use in ecophilosophy where appropriate.

Chapter three is a fairly straightforward account of the central conceptions and concerns of Platonism and “perennial philosophy”. It foregrounds the critique of the intellect, or reason, that is fundamental to Platonic thought, and it situates Deep Ecology in this broader tradition of philosophic dissent. This does not deny that Deep Ecology has been deficient in its understanding of intuition, but it does indicate that the

34 Deep Ecology “intuition” of the central role of consciousness in large-scale change has been sound, or at least in good philosophical company.

Chapter four shows that many criticisms of the Deep Ecology approach relate to its adoption of elements of nondualistic metaphysics such as the doctrine of Self- realisation, and to its apparent bias towards metaphysics and religio-philosophy at the expense of political engagement. It suggests that some of these criticisms are based on a misreading of the Deep Ecology approach, and perhaps also on a misunderstanding of the nondualism encountered in the texts on which Deep Ecology theorists have drawn. Although critics seem to assume that all talk of unity entails the imposition of a false unity, nondualistic metaphysical systems have in the main concerned themselves with the perception or awareness of unity, or more accurately, with nondual perception. An understanding of this distinction, I argue, would obviate many concerns about Deep Ecology as an essentialist, totalitarian philosophy. I show that in both Western and Eastern metaphysical systems, it is reason rather than intuition that is regarded as interpreting reality according to its predilections. I also attempt to clarify Naess’s stand on political praxis. Here as elsewhere in the dissertation, distinction is made between Naess’s approach and that of subsequent theorists. In this case, not because Naess is committed to political praxis while others are not, but simply because Naess has more clearly articulated the Deep Ecology stance on eco-activism and eco-politics than others have. However, the eight point platform central to the movement ends with an appeal to ‘directly or indirectly … try to implement the necessary changes’ it outlines (Naess 1984, p.266). The work of the Rainforest Centre in defence of nature may be taken as illustrative of the Deep Ecology approach to action.

This chapter also brings recent work on communicative and discursive democracy into relation with the earlier work of Karl Popper on the open society, which in many respects foreshadowed the concerns of Dryzek, Barry, Eder, Szerszynski and others working in this field today. Dryzek and Barry have been highly

35 critical of Deep Ecology, partly on the grounds of its alleged metaphysical and mystical bias, which in their view carries totalitarian overtones. Their modernist argument against Deep Ecology is critiqued in this dissertation. I focus on the limits to Dryzek’s version of an ecologically aware Habermasian rationality, which for all its attempts to take the environment into account, fails to address the irreducible separation from nature, basic to reason as generally conceived, just as it fails to take into account the limitations of thought discussed by Bohm and Krishnamurti.

Chapter five attempts to show several ways in which panpsychism resolves problems left untreated by Deep Ecology theorists. It also shows that the metaphysic of panpsychism, as elucidated by Freya Mathews, is amply supported by Spinoza, Bruno, and Bohm and has well conceived precedents in the Upanishads and in Sânkhya metaphysics. Panpsychism and its precursors suggest a radical re-evaluation of dominant attitudes to both matter and mind in the direction of nondualism. Bohm’s work is used to ground the discussion with recourse to a nondualistic order that he describes as the generative order, or holomovement, which in his view represents the inner forming activity of both matter and consciousness. The gradual development of the modern conception of matter is shown to have deviated from long-standing organicism, involving a transition from conceptions of an eternal organic order to a worldview in which change and conflict predominate.

In the domain of consciousness or mind I draw on Spinoza’s Ethics and the Yoga Sûtras to suggest the outline of a rational mysticism based on direct perception and freedom of mind. The notion of an empirical self that is constructed, conditioned and limited is contrasted with what is known as the Self or âtman. In Hindu metaphysics a distinction is made between the embodied self or jîva, and the universal Self or âtman. The empirical self (jîva) is that with which we generally identify, the “me” and the “mine”. The universal Self, or âtman, is unconstructed, unconditioned, and present alike in all. Following Bohm and Spinoza, I suggest that like eternity, nonduality or

36 unity exists only in the present moment, and cannot be either contained or contacted by the empirical self. This is discussed in chapter 6, in connection with Bohm’s theoretical (and practical) work on dialogue and attention. Bohm argues that attention is the product of neither thought nor time, but is by nature unlimited in scope and potential. His notion of attention is compared with samâdhi in the Yoga system; both have been described as highly “coherent” forms of contemplation or attention. It is suggested that attention as conceived by Bohm is indispensable to the projects of deliberative democracy and communicative rationality, as well as to the ethos of encounter attendant upon the doctrine of panpsychism as conceived by Mathews. Bohm suggests that attention is indispensable to freedom and creativity, and vice versa, freedom and creativity arise in the state of attention. The relationship between his work and that of J. Krishnamurti is brought to the fore. Krishnamurti’s analysis of the observer and the observed, and his insights into the nature of intelligence, and the pitfalls of “seeking”, are shown to have made an important contribution to religious thought.

Chapter seven proffers a tentative attempt at a nondualistic approach to ethics and to action, with recourse to the doctrine of karma and with reference to the problem of value. Both action and ethics are normally viewed in a dualistic context of self and other, present and future. I propose that in a nondualistic framework, the focus of discourse moves away from the question of moral considerability, and attention is instead focussed on the subject, the actor. If action is viewed in the nondualistic sense implicit in the doctrine of karma, which treats action and reaction, cause and effect, as indissolubly one - the goal of ethics then becomes what the goal of religio-philosophy has generally been, a mode of being and action that is shaped by insight and freedom, rather than by ignorance and bondage. Following a lead from Callicott first taken up in chapter 1, the suggestion is also made that just as self and other dissolve in the face of a fundamental and intrinsic unity, so do the dichotomies of relationship and oneness, and of pluralism and monism.

37 That is the thesis in outline. I now turn to some of the philosophical problems and issues to which Deep Ecology and ecophilosophy have responded.

38 Chapter 1 The Project of Ecophilosophy

DEFINITIONS

In order to appreciate the contribution made by Deep Ecology to ecophilosophy or environmental ethics, it is necessary to understand something of the problems addressed by this burgeoning discipline. I begin my thumbnail sketch with a note on terminology, and then, borrowing from Richard Sylvan (Sylvan 1998), question whether there was a need for a specifically environmental ethic in the last two or three decades of the twentieth century, and whether there is there now a need for a new order in the environmental philosophy that we do have.

In many instances environmental ethics and environmental philosophy are roughly interchangeable terms, or at least overlapping. There is an argument that “environmental ethics” may have been misnamed; it sounds as if it would be a part of like business ethics or medical ethics. In fact, it encompasses much that falls within the purview of traditional philosophy including metaphysics, , epistemology, and (Hargrove 1989b, p.2). The field took its name from Eugene Hargrove’s journal Environmental Ethics, so named in order to discourage the submission of papers without any environmental or ethical content (Hargrove 1989b, p.3). Holmes Rolston points out that the term should not be taken to imply that it is merely an ethic about the environment (Rolston III 1983, p.41). It is an ethic that is informed by our growing understanding of such features of ecological systems as complexity, diversity, and symbiosis (Naess 1989, p.3), and on a growing awareness of our dependence on ecological systems. Hargrove that environmental ethics as a discipline will disappear once other subject areas begin to take the environment properly into account. The result, he imagines, ‘will be a

39 transformation of philosophy as we have known it, or, depending on how you look at it, philosophy and environmental ethics will become one’ (Hargrove 1989b, p.3). In the main, the term ecophilosophy is employed throughout this dissertation, to cover the general field of environmental ethics and environmental philosophy.

ECOCENTRISM

A key idea of ecophilosophy, if not the central informing idea, is that the world does not exist for the sake of human beings alone. While anthropocentrism remains the prevailing attitude, the dawning realisation that humans are not, ‘the crown of creation, the source of all value, the measure of all things’ (Seed 1985, p.243) has amounted to a revolution in modern Western thought (Thomas 1984, p.166), productive of various ecocentric views. Though the details of ecocentrism have yet to be fully worked out, ecocentrism and anthropocentrism can be regarded as mutually exclusive extremes. Robyn Eckersley describes anthropocentrism as:

the that there is a clear and morally relevant dividing line between humankind and the rest of nature, that humankind is the only or principal source of value and meaning in the world, and that nonhuman nature is there for no other purpose but to serve humankind (Eckersley 1992, p.51).

For several decades eco-philosophers have been challenging the line that divides humans from the rest of nature (morally speaking), amassing arguments for the intrinsic value of non-human nature, and developing an environmental axiology that goes beyond merely instrumental or utilitarian arguments. Movement has been towards a theory of intrinsic value that encompasses nature, or at least some aspects of non-human nature (Fox 1990/1995, p.150/162). Ecophilosophy puts forward reasons why we

40 cannot ‘destroy the earth with moral impunity’ (Leopold 1983, p.10); and in the process, it enables or justifies ecologically enlightened practices.

A non-anthropocentric attitude is evident to some degree in each of the major approaches to intrinsic value theory, whether value is attributed on the basis of cosmic purpose, sentience, the capacity to suffer, autopoiesis (the capacity to self-organise and self-renew), or the capacity to maintain the conditions necessary for survival, as in Gaia theory (Fox 1990/1995, p.176). A critique of anthropocentrism is integral to the debates arising within contemporary ecophilosophy, a large part of which deals specifically with non-anthropocentric intrinsic value arguments.5 It is noteworthy, however, that this re-evaluation of our place in nature has been taking place against a background shift of attitudes away from human-centred value, quite apart from anything that has been taking place in environmental philosophy. It is this change in attitudes that made ecophilosophy necessary and perhaps inevitable.

Both Keith Thomas 6 and Eugene Hargrove attribute to the development of natural history a rather dramatic (if gradual) change in anthropocentric attitudes in the early modern period (Thomas 1984, p.52). Hargrove argues that the early Greeks had viewed natural phenomena in a way that ‘made the idea of nature preservation conceptually difficult, if not impossible’ (Hargrove 1989b, p.21). In his view the establishment of uniformitarianism in geology demonstrated:

that although nature changed slowly in accordance with physical and chemical processes, humans, acting as geological agents … comparable in scale to glaciers, earthquakes, and volcanoes, could accelerate such change, with catastrophic effect (Hargrove 1989b, p.33).

5 Andrew Light has recently questioned the assumption that a viable ecophilosophy must necessarily embrace non-anthropocentrism (Light 1996, p.273). 6 Sir Keith Thomas was at the time of writing Man And The Natural World President of Corpus Christi College, Oxford and formerly Professor of Modern History. He was knighted for services to history.

41 This understanding of human-induced change made the notion of nature conservation conceivable.

Thomas discusses at some length the trend of the early modern naturalists to move away from classifying everything according to its usefulness to human beings, and the possession of characteristics superficially like human ones. Classification has since then been based on inherent structural characteristics (Thomas 1984, p.52/65). Francis Bacon came to see that the often symbolic meanings given to plants and animals were only human constructs and not inherent (Thomas 1984, p.67). At the same time, the tendency to regard various species as ugly grew out of fashion, and the view came to prevail that ‘anything which did its work well was beautiful’ (Thomas 1984, p.68).

Another significant development towards the potential erasure of the morally relevant line dividing humans from other living beings, was the practice of keeping pets. Thomas points out that by the year 1700, pet-keeping had become something of an obsession in England: ‘Pets were often fed better than the servants … [and] the aristocracy showed an increasing desire to be surrounded by individual portraits of their favourite dogs, birds and horses’ (Thomas 1984, p.117). Thomas draws attention to the fact that it was in this pet-keeping environment that scientists and intellectuals began to break down the hitherto rigid boundaries between humans and animals. Close observation of household pets supported claims for animal intelligence (Thomas 1984, p.122/1).

The development of comparative anatomy also played its part, revealing anatomical similarities between humans and animals. Anatomists since Vesalius had struggled to find significant ways in which ‘the human brain differed in structure from that of higher animals’ (Thomas 1984, p.129). Thomas found that all the key arguments against cruelty to animals were also in evidence by 1700, and by the beginning of the eighteenth century all the arguments that would inform modern vegetarianism were in

42 circulation (Thomas 1984, p.181/295). As Man And The Natural World shows in detail, there were many other factors in the gradual erosion of anthropocentrism, including Darwin’s publication of The Descent of Man, and The Origin of Species, in which, as one observer noted, Darwin conclusively proved that species exist ‘as ends in themselves’ (Murdy 1983, p.13). The result of all these revelations was that finally, ‘Neither anatomy nor language nor even the possession of reason’, could provide an unassailable difference between humans and non-human living creatures (Thomas 1984, p.137).

Thus, the ecological crisis together with recent discoveries in quantum physics, ecology, and general systems theory, succeeding as they did discoveries by astronomers, botanists and others, combined to erode entrenched anthropocentrism. Increasingly evident is our dependence on natural systems, our family resemblance to other living beings, and the intelligence of complex systems and entities other than the human being. Indeed, as Eckersley notes, the premises of ecocentrism are more consistent with modern science than are the premises of anthropocentrism (Eckersley 1992, p.51).

If it seems contradictory to speak in terms of a wholesale erosion of entrenched anthropocentrism - should human chauvinism now be considered endangered rather than entrenched? - the contradiction exists in society, not just in my use of language. As Thomas observes, our attitudes to the natural world have not kept pace with the direction in which our discoveries are moving, the result being that a ‘confident anthropocentrism’, has given way to ‘an altogether more confused state of mind’ (Thomas 1984, p.301). Nor, until the advent of ecophilosophy, had analytic philosophy systematically addressed the new understanding of human/nature interdependence, which specifically seeks to redress this incoherence between values actually held and the ethics professed.

43

TOWARDS A MORE REALISTIC PHILOSOPHY OF NATURE

The need for a coherent philosophy that addresses the ecological crisis and keeps pace with the implications of the new sciences, is a recurring theme in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement and ecophilosophy generally. In agreement with Sylvan and others, John Passmore had said, as is often quoted:

We do need a “new metaphysics” which is genuinely not anthropocentric ... The working out of such a metaphysics is, in my judgment, the most important task which lies ahead of philosophy .. the emergence of new moral attitudes to nature is bound up then with the emergence of a more realistic philosophy of nature. This is the only adequate foundation for effective environmental concern (in Devall and Sessions 1985, p.53).

As indicated in Man And The Natural World, the development of natural history had already inspired the emergence of new moral attitudes, giving impetus to the development of a new ecologically informed philosophy; but that is not to say that greater environmental concern would not be inspired by, or engendered by, an even ‘more realistic philosophy of nature’. Clearly, however, although ecophilosophy provides a necessary corrective to the anthropocentrism of classical philosophy, it has yet to fully reflect the values, metaphysics, and ethics that would not only cohere with the metaphysical implications of quantum theory and ecology, but also lay a firm foundation for ecologically integrated action.

Hargrove contends that for the past three thousand years, has been either irrelevant to or incompatible with environmental thinking. Indeed, according to him, it is in Western philosophy, rather than religion, that most ‘environmentally offensive ideas’ originate (Hargrove 1989b, p.15). Ecologically oriented philosophers

44 have been largely in agreement that traditional ethics no longer answers the needs of a society whose technology allows it to affect nature in comprehensive and thoroughgoing ways, ‘in ways that are long-range, cumulative, irreversible, and planetary in scale’ (Vogel 1995). Nor does classical Western ethics on its own, provide the necessary resources for the construction of a viable ecocentric philosophy, particularly one based on non-anthropocentric intrinsic value arguments (Hargrove 1989b, p.10; also see Sylvan 1998). Several philosophers, including Mathews and Passmore, have felt that the required ethic or philosophy must be worked out in a Western idiom. Mathews and Naess have focussed on the seventeenth century thinker Spinoza; Sessions, Devall, and a number of other Deep Ecology theorists have relied heavily on Eastern sources, especially and Buddhism, as well as on relatively neglected elements of the Western tradition including Spinoza, the Presocratics, and “perennial philosophy”.

Much of the debate in the field of environmental philosophy has centred on principles of intrinsic value and the possibilities of extending rights to nature, to parts of nature, to living beings, or at least to some non-human living beings. Deep Ecology has taken neither a rights-based nor a values-based approach. J. Baird Callicott 7 situates Deep Ecology in the “family” of environmental ethics centred on Self-realisation (Callicott 2003, p.204), as does Eric Katz (Katz 2000, p.18). As such, it has offered an alternative to traditional axiological and ontological approaches, an alternative, which, if explored in depth, may at least point towards a viable nondualistic metaphysics, ethic and psychology.

7 J. Baird Callicott is Professor of Philosophy and Religion Studies at University of North Texas.

45 IS THERE A NEED FOR A NEW ORDER IN ECOPHILOSOPHY?

As already indicated, most ecophilosophers reject purely instrumental arguments. Fox has shown that the distinction between intrinsic value theories and instrumental value ‘is central to most ecophilosophical theorizing’ (Fox 1990/1995, p.150). As Callicott has stated: ‘The central and most recalcitrant problem for environmental ethics is the problem of constructing an adequate theory of intrinsic value for nonhuman natural entities and for nature as a whole’ (Callicott 1985, p.257). I take note of Andrew Light’s distaste for such language, and his observation that settling on “central problems,” or as he put it, ‘definitive approaches’, in a little more than two decades of existence is of questionable value to ecophilosophy (Light 1996, p.273). To take up Light's argument, however, would be to miss what is useful to the present discussion in Callicott’s general approach.

By an adequate theory Callicott meant one that is objective, that is, based on the natural properties of an entity, rather than on ‘some mystical intuitive faculty’ (Callicott 1985, p.259/60). At the same time, he distinguishes between the locus of intrinsic value, which is nature, and the source of intrinsic value, which is human consciousness (Callicott, 1986 #1430, p.142, discussed in Lee 2003). In saying that the source of value is human consciousness he means that though humans are not alone in possessing intrinsic value, they may be alone in perceiving it. In that case, intrinsic value would be of interest to humans without necessarily being classified as anthropocentric. However, Callicott is not making a claim here about the ultimate source of value, in the sense in which source is generally used in metaphysics. Some would no doubt argue that humanity or thought is that source, whereas others would argue that pure consciousness, Brahman, God, the One, or the totality is the ultimate source of intrinsic value.

46 In my view, the only problem with Callicott's notion of an objective theory of value is his denial of the ‘mystical intuitive faculty’, which seems to contradict his affirmation that human beings are the source of value. If the perception of value is available to human beings, then surely the perception of value must be some sort of faculty, if not ‘mystical intuitive’, then perhaps just plain intuitive in the Platonic sense. Further, given that humans are a source of value, an important question arises - are they necessarily going to perceive value? Or must this “faculty” be cultivated, developed, unveiled, or drawn out from within (educare)? If it is in any sense innate, then it must resemble the innate mystical faculty of Platonism, Buddhism and Vedânta.

Into this terrain has stepped Deep Ecology with its central thesis that an ecological consciousness must be developed, cultivated, or uncovered; and that without a deeply felt sense of ecological self, eco-politics and ecophilosophy will always be fighting a rear-guard action. Some critics have alleged that emphasising ecological consciousness has led Deep Ecology theorists to deny all significance to political praxis, or at least to fail to make a contribution to eco-politics. Alternatively I suggest that both ecological consciousness and the intuitive faculty need to be fully understood before they can be abandoned without adversely affecting the chances of developing a comprehensive ecophilosophy. I suggest, further, that the practice of cultivating ecological consciousness might be augmented, to advantage, by taking on board the doctrine of direct perception, especially in its up-dated version in the work of David Bohm.

Such an adequate, or more than adequate, theory as Callicott invites must, he says, rest on foundations that are neither subjectivist (as in Hume's theory of value) nor objectivist, if it is to take into account developments in twentieth-century science. Cartesian dualism is challenged by both ecology and quantum physics, two sciences that agree that the between things are as real as the things (borrowing from Paul Shepard Callicott 1985, p.273). There is also the suggestion, in both sciences, that self and nature, or self and world, are continuous (Callicott 1985, p.275). Callicott

47 argues, therefore, that an ethic appropriate to developments in physics and ecology 'requires a wholly new axiology', which is not anthropocentric, and which does not maintain dualism in any form. There must be no impermeable division between subject and object, between fact and value, or between primary and secondary qualities (Callicott 1985, p.267/70). He has argued, I think convincingly, that ecology 'undermines the concept of a separable ego or social atom and thus renders obsolete any ethics which involves the concepts of "self" and "other" as primary terms' (Callicott 1986 a, p.301). Surely this leaves us with only one for the foundation of the new axiology he envisages, and that is some form of nondualism transcending self and world, subject and object, as well as the distinction between primary and secondary qualities.

ADDRESSING THE PROBLEM OF SCIENTIFIC MATERIALISM

A number of ecologists and eco-philosophers have argued that the effects of the human transformation of nature are serious and global; and some argue for the intrinsic or inherent value of nature, parts of nature or selected forms of non-human life. But, according to Arran E. Gare, these ‘fragmentary critiques’ are all too easily marginalised. He argues that: 'Only total challenges, challenges that define themselves in opposition to the basic assumptions of scientific materialism, are real threats to its dominance' (Gare 2000, p.288). Gare suggests that process metaphysics offers such a challenge, and I find that, indeed, the process approach might be used to augment nondualistic doctrines so that they further complement new discoveries in physics, ecology and system dynamics. This is a promising development that will be briefly discussed in chapter 7.

48 For now I would like to focus on Gare's critique of scientific materialism and the light it might shed on where Naess's critique is perhaps wanting. Gare writes that from the perspective of scientific materialism:

particularly as it has been articulated by economic theory, psychology, and biology, humanity consists of collections of struggling for survival, power, and pleasure in a world of material things whose positions in space can be changed or rearranged over time … nature is only seen by modern societies’ dominant institutions to be of value insofar as it can be controlled to satisfy human purposes (Gare 2000, p.287).

He argues that under such circumstances, a ‘global ecological crisis is virtually unintelligible’ (Gare 2000, p.287). We perceive the problem largely in terms of a number of ‘minor unwanted side-effects to our achievements; some things are not yet entirely under control’ (Gare 2000, p.287). It is impossible, therefore, to see the crisis as truly global in reach and thoroughgoing in its implications. Perhaps we do, in the main, recognise that some of the unintended negative consequences of our modes of production and consumption are not so insignificant: but I think most would have to agree with Gare that dominant institutions still regard the “ecological crisis” as a series of relatively minor glitches on a road that is otherwise well worth travelling. Why is this?

Perhaps our worldview, the metaphysics, psychology and ethics underlying our dominant institutions, has set us up not to see in global terms at all. We are going about with what Susan Murphy has termed a part-adapted eye (Murphy 2001), with which it is not possible to see the wholeness side of things. The word "global" need not just imply "all around the world", but might also imply "at every level", or "total" that is, material, ecological, social and psychological. We are not predisposed to see that the way we think and the way we behave has total ramifications many of which are negative and maladaptive. Nor do we tend to think in terms of the invisible, or long-term effects of

49 our actions; a defect that might be corrected with recourse to the karma doctrine discussed in chapter 7. Therefore, what we urgently require from a nondualistic or non- reductive metaphysic is a reason to think and behave differently about the situation in which we find ourselves, a reason to think differently about ourselves, in fact. We also require a metaphysic that inclines us to stop seeing humanity as a collection of individuals struggling for survival (against one another and against the forces of nature); and as struggling for power, and for pleasure, in a largely hostile world consisting of material things whose position in space can be rearranged over time to suit ourselves. Some versions of nondualistic metaphysics present us with such reasons, and call into question the whole issue of survival and the way to happiness. Buddhism does this, as does Vedânta and Platonism.

As indicated in Gare’s analysis, the perspective of scientific materialism favours the following worldview: ƒ The world is peopled by ‘individuals struggling for survival’, which, to many, implies an adversarial system of “dog eat dog”; and it also implies that in a hostile world survival is not a given. We feel that our survival is up to us and unless we struggle we will go under. Many religious and philosophic views would contradict this, and see survival as part of the natural order of things. It might be believed that “ loves us” and that we are cared for, or it might be believed that the universe is the body of God, or the explicatio Dei, as Cusanus and Bruno maintained. In each of these latter cases we could perhaps rely on “surviving” so long as we do not actively work against survival (as presently seems to be the case). In systems based on the notion of eternity or immortality (it might be an impersonal immortality), survival is not an issue. The doctrine of , for instance, suggests that the soul has a body, not that the body has a soul. Bodily survival, therefore, is not the be-all and end-all of existence (which need not imply a cavalier attitude to life). ƒ In the world dominated by scientific materialism, humans tend to struggle for ‘power and pleasure’ in their pursuit of happiness. The question might be asked,

50 however, whether this behaviour is necessary, natural or inevitable. Are power and pleasure the way to happiness? Again, there are many religio-philosophies to suggest otherwise, Platonism, Vedânta, and Buddhism to name three. We all desire happiness, but does happiness derive from power and pleasure? It seems to me highly likely that they do not. William Ophuls makes this point in "Political Values for an Age of Scarcity" in which he questions whether human selfishness must be regarded as inevitable (Ophuls 1981). To the contrary, Buddhism, Yoga and Vedânta regard selfishness and as 'the primordial problems that human beings are placed upon earth to solve'; and not as social (Ophuls 1981, p.142). This way of thinking questions the inevitability of 'Hobbesian man, whose key trait is the lack of virtuous self-restraint' (Ophuls 1981, p.140). ƒ Finally, (still referring back to Gare’s critique) we live ‘in a world of material things whose positions in space can be changed or rearranged over time’ (Gare 2000, p.287). Are material things, in space and time, the most fundamental aspect of the world in which we live; is this the most, the best that can be said of the world we inhabit? It is, according to scientific materialism, but not according to Platonism, the Upanishads, Buddhism and numerous other worldviews. Perhaps we live in a world of thoughts more than of things, a world in which move things around in space and time, using our hands and feet and institutions as their vehicle. As Mahâyâna Buddhism and Advaita Vedânta suggest, intentions may be more primary than things, and consciousness more primary still. Institutions are concrete embodiments of the way we think, and of our thoughtlessness. This would appear to be consistent with the view of systems theoretician Ernest Laszlo who once wrote: ‘The critical but as yet generally unrecognized issue confronting mankind is that its truly decisive limits are inner, not outer' (Laszlo 1978, p.3).

Deep Ecology has not been entirely disengaged from the critique of scientific materialism just outlined. Naess has spoken out against technocracy (Naess 1989, p.97);

51 and in favour of a ‘technology which advances the basic goals of each culture’ (Naess 1989, p.97). He is an outspoken advocate of a which is simple in means and rich in ends; and a critic of un-ecological consumption and production (Naess 1989, p.104). He has noted the positive contribution to eco-philosophical debate made by economists such as E. F. Schumacher, Nicolas Georgescu-Roegen, and Kenneth Boulding (Naess 1989, p.128), and expressed regret that, in the main, supporters of the Deep Ecology movement have not engaged with the ‘growing treasure of economic literature’ which supports the views of many environmentalists (Naess 1989, p.129). He has stated on more than one occasion that along with Green politics generally, Deep Ecology ‘supports the elimination of class differences locally, regionally, nationally, and globally’ (Naess 1989, p.138). Naess is also aware of the inevitability of political confrontation, warning:

It would be unwise to suppose that improvement can be achieved for the great majority of mankind without severe political contests and profound changes in the economic objectives pursued by the industrial states (Naess 1989, p.24).

Naess seeks to bring “activeness” into line with the integrated needs of the whole person, and with a total view. For example:

[I]f you need electricity, it will then be subordinated under the needs of the total personality, and that means that you would not like to support a hydroelectric power plant that would destroy unnecessarily in order to completely satisfy a vital need. So, in this way, we are moderate (Naess in Rothenberg 1993, p.97).

For Naess, what leads to fulfillment is not power over others and the satisfaction of endless material wants, but 'empathy with the world beyond the ego' (Rothenberg 1993, p.xix). The notion of an empathy with what is beyond the ego is one that Naess seems to have considered mainly from the perspective of identification with other forms of

52 life, as expressed in the wider identification thesis. He did not attempt to analyse, in any great depth, what is beyond the ego, even though that is the subject matter of much of Vedânta and Buddhism with which he was acquainted. To fill in that gap it is necessary to turn to those traditions, along with Sânkhya, Yoga and the work of Bruno and Bohm. Apart from his cursory treatment of the âtman doctrine and of Self-realisation, Naess's speculation on these matters seems to have been restricted to an even more fleeting consideration of the idea of the microcosm:

I was very impressed with the doctrine of microcosmos and macrocosmos: that everything macrocosmos in one way that's very difficult to make precis, but in one way, every little flower as it is one out there would mirror macrocosmos in some way … Therefore, I have this of wholeness, where you have subordinate and superordinate wholes, like a movement within a symphony, partaking in the whole and nevertheless being something in itself …

It is a so-called internal relation, speaking philosophically, between the particular beings and the whole, so that the definition of you or of me, the so-called essential definition, can't stop with the organism. It is, in a sense, outside the organism …

[At the same time, however] The singular being should never get totally lost in the whole (Naess in Rothenberg 1993, p.93-4).

On a related theme, speaking of God and Nature, Natura naturans and Natura naturata, Naess remarks:

They are two aspects of the whole that has no name. It's only a question of aspect - there is nothing, no thing, no entity that is not Natura naturata, part of Natura naturata, and there is no entity not part of Natura naturans. Everything has both a dynamic side, which keeps it changing, and a static side, which allows us to identify it as a thing in the first place. Fundamentally all living beings are one,

53 and we can easily get to a kind of nature mysticism. This is a feeling of unity (Naess in Rothenberg 1993, p.93).

As Rothenberg notes, Naess on the whole shies away from nature mysticism, 'if it implies that you lose yourself' (Naess in Rothenberg 1993, p.93). His idea of oneness or unity is based rather on the notion, shared with M.K. Gandhi, that one cannot attain Self-realisation, 'without taking the rest of the world with us' (Rothenberg 1993, p.xx). This may be interpreted in two ways. Self-realisation is partly at least, the result of compassion and empathy with others. It cannot be a selfish pursuit (an activity strangely attributed to the Pratyeka Buddhas, or so-called selfish buddhas, in Buddhism). This would be Naess's view. There is also the suggestion that Self- realisation lifts the consciousness of every living being and that therefore it is actually impossible to attain Self-realisation without taking the rest of the world with you (which would be similar to J. Krishnamurti's "you are the world" thesis).

The difference in the behaviour generated by a worldview that elevates mechanism, to the behaviour generated by a worldview giving wholeness and interrelatedness a prominent place, was once put by Bohm as follows:

If the universe signifies mechanism and the values implicit therein, the individuals must fend for themselves. With mechanism, individuals are separate and have to take care of themselves first. We are all pushing against each other and everyone is trying to win. The significance of wholeness is that everything is internally related to everything else, and, therefore, in the long run, it has no meaning for people to ignore the needs of others … At present, we do not adequately realize that we are one whole with the planet and that our whole being and substance comes out of it (Bohm 1993, p.149).

PANPSYCHISM

54

Recent work on the doctrine of panpsychism paves the way to transcending the limits of axiological and , by highlighting a previously ignored or marginalised higher order unity, which includes and exceeds both subjectivist and objectivist positions. Panpsychism treats subject and object as interrelated aspects of the one reality, in a in which familiar dualisms and polarities might be considered as complementary rather than contradictory. More work is required on the nature of the One, in order to understand what it is that transcends the phenomena, and to see what implications the existence of such a transcendent reality might have for the explicate order existing in space and time. Clearly, a new axiology which transcends subjectivism and objectivism is consistent with Bohm’s work on the implicate order, and with his ontological interpretation of quantum theory (developed with Basil Hiley), which suggests the primacy of consciousness in an undivided universe (Bohm 1980/1997; Bohm and Hiley 1993).

Amit Goswami has shown that all the well-known paradoxes of quantum physics can be resolved, ‘if quantum physics is interpreted on the basis of the primacy of consciousness’ (Goswami 2001, p.535).8 These paradoxes include the contrasting pairs life and non-life, mind and body, exteriority and interiority, subject and object; all of which are resolved in a nondualism based on consciousness. In like manner, I argue that the familiar dualisms of ecophilosophy such as relationship and oneness, self and world, might be resolved on the basis of a nondualistic metaphysic founded on the primacy of consciousness, and a unity that is both implicit and transcendent. As the mathematician Sergei Khoruzhii has pointed out, the philosophical history of unity encompasses two aspects, the unity of all, as related to the Cosmos, and the unity in all or through all which is the nature of Logos as conceived by and others

8 Amit Goswami is Professor of Physics at the University of Oregon, and author of The Self-Aware Universe: How Consciousness Creates the Material World (New York: Putnam/Tarcher, 1993), and The Visionary Window A Quantum Physicist’s Guide To Enlightenment (Wheaton, Illinois: Quest, 2002).

55 (Khoruzhii 1996, p.34). The unity of all is Brahman (the transcendent), the unity in all is âtman (the immanent), and the two aspects of unity or two expressions of unity naturally combine, not only in the Upanishads, but also, as Khoruzhii points out, in the thought of , Heraclitus and Plotinus. This might help to relieve the tension between relationship and oneness that has emerged in the eco-feminist critique of Deep Ecology. Where the essential nature of self and the essential nature of the totality are one, as in the Upanishadic âtman doctrine, there is no necessary quarrel between relationship and oneness. The doctrine of internal relations, for example, suggests that the individual is in essential relationship with the totality and with all other individuals.

From the perspective of nondualism, and that of common sense, relationship and oneness appear to be complementary rather than contradictory notions. To think of them as contradictory seems to be counter-intuitive. It might be assumed that oneness would be a natural and a firm foundation for relationship, and that relationship is likely to engender a greater sense of oneness. Yet that is not how a number of eco-feminists have seen the matter. Val Plumwood,9 one of the early formulators of ecophilosophy in Australia, is in agreement with Callicott that the urgent ethical project of which he speaks cannot be carried out in the dualistic Cartesian framework (Plumwood 2002, p.147). This has led Plumwood to question the rights movement on the one hand, and what she calls “the unity model” of Deep Ecology on the other; the former remains dualistic, and the latter appears to impose unity rather than respect difference. Instead, Plumwood has proposed a “solidarity model” in which we stand with the other, who nonetheless remains independent of us retaining the identity that “oneness” would seem to obliterate (Plumwood 1995; Plumwood 2002). Plumwood has argued that it is not necessary to be at one with another being in order to stand with that being in a spirit of solidarity. Although I can see nothing wrong with the idea of standing with others in this way, Plumwood’s argument seems to leave open to question whether it is

9 Dr. Plumwood is in the department of General Philosophy at the University of Sydney, and Australian Research Council Fellow at the Australian National University.

56 relationship or oneness (or something else altogether) that is the ultimate basis of solidarity. It is to this last question that I now turn.

INTRINSIC UNITY AS THE BASIS OF A NEW AXIOLOGY

William Grey argues that ‘there is no plausible sense of community that includes quarks and quasars’, despite a significant amount of organisation and structure at both the microscopic and cosmic levels (Grey 2000, p.45). It seems to me that far from ruling out the possibility of such a sense of community, Grey’s remark serves to highlight the need for a framework in which quarks and quasars, microcosmos and macrocosmos, might be included in the community of the morally considerable after all.

Callicott has proposed that, at least in terms of value theory, the continuity of self and world (or oneness) amounts to the same thing as the primacy of the relations between self and world. His argument is based on the underlying unity implied in the construction of both self and world; and hence, I argue, of relationship and oneness:

Since nature is the self fully extended and diffused, and the self … is nature concentrated and focused in one of the intersections, the “knots,” of the web of life … nature is intrinsically valuable, to the extent that the self is intrinsically valuable (Callicott 1985, p.275).

This points to a nondualism of self and world, or self and nature, based on the “unity” intrinsic to both.

I do not know whether Callicott is aware of this or not, but the view expressed in the above quotation echoes versions of the âtman doctrine found in several Upanishads, the Yoga Sûtras and other Hindu texts. The Sanskrit word âtman refers both to the supreme spirit which underlies, sustains, and permeates the world, and to the individual

57 spirit which is the same supreme spirit: ‘but is this unbounded, infinite Reality expressing itself through a point or centre’ (Taimni 1976/1985, p.1). According to this doctrine, the innermost nature of the human being is at one with the innermost nature of the universe. It is also held that the universal consciousness is always present within the individual consciousness (Taimni 1976/1985, p. 29).10

Callicott speaks in terms of self and nature, rather than spirit or consciousness, but his meaning is consistent with the âtman doctrine in that both regard the individual self as an intersection or knot in the web of life (or universal consciousness as the case may be), and nature or world as the self or âtman fully extended. The idiom is different, but much of the meaning is the same. When Callicott invites consideration of the basic nonduality of self-world relations, and self-world continuity, he makes a subtle point. When the self is understood to be a knot in the web of life, and life or nature is understood to be the Self fully extended, then the self must be understood as both in relationship with and identical to the world or nature. At least this is true of the innermost Self or âtman. The empirical self with which most of us identify is limited and separative by definition. In a nondualistic framework, however, even the empirical self has to be regarded as a knot in the web of life or as an expression of the whole. The difference between the empirical self (jîva) and the âtman is that the empirical self is generally unaware of the wholeness, or intrinsic unity, whereas intrinsic unity is the very nature of the Self or âtman.

The same problem, that of including quarks and quasars in the moral community, is approached from a different angle in the doctrine of panpsychism which suggests that the sense of community might be extended to the Cosmos, to matter itself, or to life as a

10 The book from which this quotation is drawn is a translation of the Siva-Sûtra, a text belonging to the school of . As the frontispiece explains: it is ‘based on the existence of an which manifests itself as the whole universe, each [or individual self] being merely a separate Centre of consciousness … having Universal Consciousness … hidden within him in a potential form’ (Taimni 1976/1985).

58 whole when matter is “re-animated” (Mathews 2003a). This is to take a nondualistic approach by investing matter with many of the qualities hitherto attributed to “spirit” or consciousness. The position of panpsychism will be shown to have antecedents in Sânkhya metaphysics, and in the work of Spinoza and Bruno.

VALUE AND NONDUALITY

In the foregoing discussion, two possible nondualistic approaches have been discussed: (1) based on the world being the self fully extended, and the self being a knot or intersection in the web of life, there is a nondualism of relations between self and world, and of continuity between self and world, which amounts to a nondualism of relationship and oneness; and (2) based on matter having been invested with mentalistic qualities, there is a nondualism of mind and matter or self and matter. In the first case we might say that two things, self and world, are shown to be really one thing looked at from different points of view, both being expressions of the total unity. In the second case, that of panpsychism, we have one thing, matter, which is shown to be doing the duty of what were formerly considered to be two enduringly separate entities - mind and matter. It has to be said, however, that self and world nondualism, and mind and matter nondualism, here only very briefly outlined, do not exhaust the types of nondualism that may be of relevance to ecophilosophy. There is also a nondualism of observer and observed, and a nondualism of value, valuer, and valued, to be taken into account. ’s Nonduality: A Study in Comparative Philosophy covers each of these positions as encountered in Buddhism, Vedânta, and Taoism (Loy 1988).

A nondualistic perception of value suggests that value, the perception of value, and the object in which it is perceived can be conceived as an unbroken flowing movement, to borrow from Bohm, or in Naess’s terminology, as a gestalt. All three elements are

59 important when considering the nature of value, but I believe that up to this point exaggerated attention has been paid to the objects of value. In terms of the present discussion, what is of most importance is the nondualism of value and the perception of value, and the emphasis this places on the state of mind of the perceiver.

At one stage Bohm argues that ‘ultimately thought and thing cannot properly be analysed as separately existent’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.56). Hence, value and the perception of value are not totally distinct (and nor are fact and value). I understand this conjecture in two ways: (1) it is not possible to say which comes first, the majestic tree or the state of mind that is able to perceive it as such; and (2) there is something about the perception of value and value that is one and the same, which is why they are not really separate. I argue that this “something” is intrinsic unity or the unitive dimension. Not only is the act of perception nondualistic, in this view it is also the case that what is perceived in an act of direct intuitive perception (which is unity, substance, value, or simply “what is”) is of the same order as the act of unitive perception itself. To quote from on this point:

The eye that I see God with is the same eye God sees me with. My eye and God's eye are one and the same. God is abstract being, pure perception, which is perceiving itself in itself (cited in Loy 1988, p.38).

This is a flight of the alone to the alone, as the mystics say; it is unity perceiving unity. The act of direct perception is nondualistic, and what it sees is nonduality. Platonists on their part have argued that value is objective, and that wisdom which is the capacity to perceive value, especially ultimate value, is an innate capacity of the soul (Schmitt 1966, p.519). All of these views accord with the proposition that value, the perception of value, and the object in which value is perceived exist as an unbroken (or indivisible) flowing movement which might best be understood in a framework of nonlocality and nondualism.

60

Doctrines of nondual perception prevalent in nondualistic metaphysics, Platonism, and Buddhist epistemology may appear to hold little relevance for ecophilosophy, but looked at in a certain way, they might advance our understanding of value. An example employed by Holmes Rolston 11 will help to make this point. In ‘Value in Nature and the Nature of Value’, Rolston focussed attention on precisely what is valued when we esteem certain natural objects such as the sequoias in Yosemite National Park. The tourists, he suggested, do not see the sequoias as timber, but as ‘natural classics for their age, strength, size, beauty, resilience and majesty’ (Rolston III 2003, p.143). Equally, it might be argued that when faced with these magnificent giants the observer is brought into the presence of majesty, strength, beauty, and so on - qualities that are of value wherever they are found, within or without, in self or in world. That is not Rolston’s argument, though it is not far from it, but it reflects a tenet of Platonism disclosed in the works of many of the authors cited earlier in this chapter. Perhaps we value the Yosemite sequoias, and the giant eucalypts in the Styx Valley of Tasmania, because when in their presence we are reminded of value itself, as yet undefined, value that is neither created entirely by the mind nor by the hand. To borrow from Spinoza, these trees may bring to our attention the aspect of eternity.

We might interpret our response to value variously, according to our sociocultural conditioning, but it is possible that in many cases we are transported out of the ordinary consciousness of me and mine, and momentarily arrested by either value, the aspect of eternity, or whatever else we might name this aspect of “what is”. What is of relevance to the ecological crisis however, is that to those who value these particular values, the trees will be of more value standing than as woodchip. It becomes important then to discover whether or not the perception of such value is innate, as Plato and others have argued, and if it is, then to find out what is obstructing this perception. Bohm and

11 Holmes Rolston III is University Distinguished Professor in the Department of Philosophy at Colorado State University, and one of the founders of environmental ethics as a discipline.

61 Krishnamurti have argued that it is thought, constantly moving away from seeing "what is" into abstractions, descriptions, desires and aversions, which obstructs the perception of ubiquitous value in both the changing and the eternal.

In his discussion of anthropocentrism Rolston also suggests: ‘We humans carry the lamp that lights up value’ (Rolston III 2003, p.144). By this I understand that it is we who perceive value even though it may exist in nature. That is perhaps an assumption with which many would agree; though it is open to debate. Other creatures may not communicate to us their awareness of value but may perceive it nonetheless; much depends on what “value” is determined to be. If value is regarded as objective it might also be regarded as non-conceptual or non-rational and not the product of thought. In that case other creatures may be aware of it in their own way, unmediated by the critical faculty.

In suggesting that other creatures may perceive value in some way - and it is not necessary to try to decide that here - I do not wish to deny the fact that humans carry a lamp that lights up value, a proposition consistent with Platonic doctrines of innate capacity. What is brought into question by our actions over a very long period, however, is whether we consistently see value at all, or whether for the most part the light of that lamp is really very dim. All the religio-philosophical traditions discussed in this thesis maintain that the potential for illumination or enlightenment is part of the human condition, but that to make it actual, or realise it, we must face our present limitations. Thus, I am not in disagreement with Rolston, but to say that we humans carry the lamp that lights up value expresses only part of the dynamic. A well-rounded picture of the human condition must also indicate the manner in which presently we fail to light up value.

The principal problem then, is not where value is located, in self or in world, but whether value is perceived at all. This leads to a nondualistic treatment of value that

62 focuses on the perception of value, or lack thereof, rather than on what is or is not valued. It focuses on the subjective rather than the objective order, and is concerned with cultivating the faculty of perception. This approach is in line with the notion that substance belongs ‘to a different order than quantity and sensible qualities’ (Urban 1939/1961, p.697).12 In that case, value is in some sense equated with substance; and the perception of value would require a different type of “seeing” than does the perception of physical objects. As I argue, both belong to a different order than quantity, and both represent aspects of intrinsic unity. Fuller treatment of this is given in chapters 6 and 7, but I would like to point out here that there is a precedent in ecophilosophy for treating value in this manner. Naess for example has spoken of the difference between greatness and magnitude, in the following terms:

In the great philosophies, greatness and bigness are differentiated. Greatness is sought, but it is not magnitude. The importance of technology is recognised, but cultural values get priority of consideration. The good life is not made dependent upon thoughtless consumption (Naess 1989, p.87).

In differentiating between greatness and bigness, Naess appears to be distinguishing between the order of and that of quantity. Once it can be admitted that value is of a different order than the sensible qualities, it might then be admitted that the perception of value is likely to be by means other than those by which the sensible qualities are observed. This is discussed in chapter 6 in connection with Bruno’s contention that the intrinsic unity, or intelligible matter, requires different principles of cognition than those that apply to the phenomena.

12 There is a statement in Wittgenstein’s Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus which supports a transcendental view of value. Having first stated that ‘All propositions are of equal value’, Wittgenstein then goes on to say: ‘The sense of the world must lie outside the world. In the world everything is as it is, and everything happens as it does happen: in it no value exists - and if it did exist it would have no value / If there is any value that does have value, it must lie outside the whole sphere of what happens and is the case. For all that happens and is the case is accidental / What makes it non-accidental cannot lie

63 Following on from the above, it is conceivable that value, like God, or the Eternal, or the Good may be universally diffused, but we have to be inwardly free to perceive it. Spinoza came to a conclusion of that kind, as did Plato, and more recently Bohm. Plato and Plotinus regarded everything as an expression of ultimate value, referred to as the Good, or the One. Several versions of nondualistic metaphysics hold that there is only one thing in existence, one substance, that is, existence itself or Deus sive natura. That One is the highest value of which all other values are partial, fragmentary, passing reminders.

If value is to be regarded as an aspect of intrinsic unity that is universally diffused but subtle, it would be less confusing and more appropriate if the terms intrinsic value and instrumental value were always to be rendered in the plural as intrinsic values and instrumental values. Value itself could then be regarded as neither intrinsic nor instrumental but instead as nondual and nonlocal.

NONDUALITY AND NONLOCALITY

In my view, a nonlocal interpretation of value is a necessary component of a nondualistic eco-philosophical framework. Metaphysics treats of the relationship between the One and the Many. It seems unlikely that the One could be treated consistently in a dualistic framework, or as a purely local phenomenon.

Bohm and Hiley point out that although some version of nonlocality is found in all interpretations of quantum theory, there are strong objections to it, and the hope remains that a viable local interpretation will eventually present itself (Bohm and Hiley

within the world, since if it did it would itself be accidental / It must lie outside the world’ (Wittgenstein 1921/2001, p.86).

64 1993, p.157). Nonlocality is far too close to “action at a distance” and other “magical” formulations for comfort. As the co-authors relate: ‘when Einstein noticed the possible nonlocal implications of the quantum theory, he referred to it as “spooky” action at a distance’ (Bohm and Hiley 1993, p.157). Peat notes that when nonlocality was found to be implied in the hidden variable interpretation, Bohm was greatly shocked; as was Newton, when he discovered gravity, a form of action at a distance (Peat 1997, p.222). Centuries after Newton, Bohm found himself arguing for other equally, if not more, disconcerting phenomena such as the quantum potential and nonlocality (Peat 1997, p. 220-1).

Few scientists perhaps would want to open the floodgates to prescientific suppositions, particularly suppositions that seem to question the scientific project itself. Bohm and Hiley understood the fear that, ‘if everything is strongly and nonlocally connected, there is no way to do science, because we will not be able to isolate any system sufficiently to study it’ (Bohm and Hiley 1993, p.157-8). In The Undivided Universe, however, it is shown that such fears are unfounded because at the gross material level at which physical investigations are carried out nonlocality is not a significant feature. And previously, in Wholeness and the Implicate Order, Bohm showed that although both matter and consciousness can be understood in terms of the implicate order in which they are “enfolded” in an unbroken whole, things that appear to our senses still possess a relative autonomy and are amenable to analysis (Bohm 1980/1997, p.207/151). Consequently, the “sub-totalities” that are the objects of sense perception may be investigated, but reality is not indefinitely analysable; the analysis of things as separately existing breaks down at a certain point (Bohm 1980/1997, p.73). The same might be said of “self” and “other”; they are relatively real distinctions that break down at a certain point. Ultimately both exist as one unbroken flowing movement.

Although nonlocality may not be the most significant feature of the sub-totalities temporarily unfolded in the explicate order, Bohm suggests that nonlocality is a

65 relevant feature of the implicate order, and of the more subtle material processes such as consciousness. Likewise, I am suggesting that the phenomenon of nonlocality is relevant to the perception of value and the related notion of reverence for life discussed below.

66 REVERENCE FOR LIFE

Albert Schweitzer’s notion of “reverence for life” may be taken as a model for the nonlocality of value. Writing of the possibility that the taking of life (unnecessarily) is intrinsically wrong, the bioethicist Peter Singer suggests that this may have been Schweitzer’s understanding of the reverence for life, a notion Singer finds ‘less than crystal-clear’, and difficult to justify. He asks us what is so valuable about a fly which probably has no sense of the value of its own life, and the death of which is unlikely to be a source of regret to anyone (Singer 2003, p.60). Even more incomprehensible to Singer is Schweitzer’s statement that the truly ethical man would not, ‘shatter an ice crystal that sparkles in the sun’. The best he can make of this statement is that Schweitzer regarded as wrong the needless shattering of an ice crystal, because it represents ‘a kind of vandalism’ (Singer 2003, n. p.64). Likewise, Singer finds it hard to imagine that if, for Schweitzer, ‘life is sacred, not even consciousness being necessary’, then why he would spend the better part of his life in Africa, saving the lives of human beings at the expense of the lives of germs and parasites? (Singer 2003, p.60).

Singer’s views highlight the possibility that reverence for life, like value, can only be explained in a nondualistic and nonlocal framework. Reverence for life is not reverence for any specific thing, or a limited number of things. Such reverence is not something the observer bestows on one thing and not another, say a human instead of a virus. It is a general predisposition, a feeling towards life or existence itself. Reverence for life is in the category of the lamp that humans carry that lights up all value. It could just as well be called reverence for what is; or simply, reverence, without an object. As Schweitzer scholar Charles Joy explains in his introduction to Goethe Four Studies:

With Schweitzer the essential characteristic of reverence is its boundlessness. It includes all that lives, not only that which is above, and that which is around, but the humblest of living creatures, the toad in the

67 posthole, the gnat flying above the lamp, the worm in the road, the flower by the wayside … Schweitzer thinks of it as reverence for the mosquito that stings us, the snake that bites us, the bacterium that kills us. He recognizes the insoluble enigmas which such a view presents, but the reverence he teaches is limitless (in Schweitzer 1949, p.26).

Singer could not have tried very hard to understand why Schweitzer became a doctor either. As Joy relates, Schweitzer clearly explained:

why he left his important teaching post, his writings in theology and philosophy, the great libraries and old organs of Europe, to study medicine and bury himself in the steaming tropics of Africa. He went because he had no right to happiness while other men suffered, he went to repay a debt which the white races owed to the black, he went because he felt he must make some return for the privileges of his lot, he went because he had to give satisfying expression to the supreme ethics of his life: love in selfless service (Introduction Schweitzer 1949, p.13/4).

There strikes me as nothing contradictory between selfless service to humanity and a reverence for all of life, human and otherwise. Selfless service is one of the many possible expressions of the reverence for life, one of the many possible actions resulting from such a realisation. In the case of Schweitzer, it also became the foundation of his ethical and religious thought (Joy in Schweitzer 1949, p.24).

Traditional religio-philosophical systems, such as Platonism, regard the intellect as being naturally oriented towards value and meaning (Urban 1929, p.65). As already pointed out, they also tend to view value as objective and real; not as a subjective anthropomorphic quality (Urban 1939/1961, p.701). I have already noted that value probably belongs to a different order than the sensible or primary qualities, which is perhaps why, beyond a certain point, it does not lend itself to analysis. It is likely that value and reverence for life are something in the order of meta-empirical , nondual and nonlocal in nature, dependent upon the intuitive faculties for their realisation. This is not to say that Singer lacks “intuition” or insight, but only suggests

68 that notions such as the reverence for life are amenable to analysis only up to a point, beyond which their analysis becomes ludicrous.

Doubtless, I have not adequately defined value, suggesting only that value, substance, and unity might be treated as near-synonymous terms. But my treatment of value shifts attention away from the question of moral considerability onto the state of mind of the valuer, the state of the human subject. The question then becomes: is the observer capable of perceiving value, intrinsic unity, and the noumenal? Or for that matter, is the observer capable of responding adequately to the ecological crisis; or is the mind totally caught up in the phenomenal and the personal? A culture that is excessively occupied with buying and selling, acquiring and competing, may simply be acting out the fact that it is caught up in the phenomenal aspect of reality, the world of the empirical self; largely unaware of the noumenal or eternal aspect which characterises the universal Self or âtman. Thus, although value may not have been pinned down, I have made the plausible suggestion that it may be looked at from a nondualistic point of view, and that it possesses a nonlocal component. If nothing else, this has raised the question whether or not the perception of value is an innate capacity, as seems to be the case, and if so, whether that faculty can or should be cultivated in order to better equip ourselves to respond to the ecological crisis.

CONSCIOUSNESS AND SOCIAL CHANGE

Authors in the Deep Ecology, Platonic, and Vedantic traditions have in various ways focussed on the content of consciousness as fundamental to social change. It is with the state of mind of the individual, and the worldview of society, that the Deep Ecology approach is primarily though not exclusively concerned. Consequently, Fox and others have noted that its approach to ethics is decidedly psychological; or perhaps ontological

69 better describes it (Katz 2000, p.29). This approach has been questioned on many accounts, not the least of which is that it is exceedingly idealistic, because it leaves the resolution of the ecological crisis dependent upon some sort of psychological or psycho-spiritual transformation that may or may not ever occur. It may be argued that the preparation of the soul for union with God or the Absolute, which is what the ethic of Plato, Plotinus, Schuon and Spinoza consists of, is hardly a suitable foundation on which to erect an environmental ethic. It can also be argued however, that this religio- philosophical approach has its uses. If nothing else, it draws attention to states of inner freedom and awareness similar to those brought into focus by Krishnamurti and Bohm, which they suggest are the basis of the creativity and insight on which in these matters may ultimately depend. As might also be evident from the foregoing discussion of value, doctrines of direct perception are not restricted to the perception of God or the Absolute. We need not speak only of preparing the “soul” for union with God, but also of cultivating perception to the point where it is unconstructed, direct, unconditioned and therefore able to see “what is” without the interference of a distorting filter. Krishnamurti and Bohm maintain that such perception is possible. Alternatively, in “Language, Epistemology and Mysticism,” Steven Katz denies the availability to us of unconditioned, unmediated perception (Katz 1978). His argument is further detailed in chapter 6. Such arguments aside, the disciplines which prepare the mind for union with the Absolute (samâdhi), or to directly see "what is", may be the same as those that lend clarity and insight to our daily lives.

Perhaps owing to the popularity of the wider identification thesis which Fox espoused, together with a number of comments made by Naess in support of ’s notion of beautiful actions to be discussed in chapter 2, several theorists have characterised Deep Ecology as opposed to ethics, which evidently (and logically) it is not. In the following passage, a response to a statement made by Callicott, Naess presents his view of the relationship between Deep Ecology and ethics:

70 The search for an environmental ethic, is, as I see it, a laudable undertaking from the point of view of the Deep Ecology movement. Some supporters would disagree, I suppose, but I am not sure that I know of any. Professor Callicott writes: “Deep Ecology … rejects ethics outright” … but his four supporting quotations (three from texts by Warwick Fox and one from me) don’t justify Callicott’s claim … I have emphasized, and continue to emphasize, the rather limited motivational force of moralizing, where moralizing is defined as an individual or a group admonishing another to follow certain moral precepts (Naess 1995 c, p.216).

In the above Naess speaks out against the practice of moralising, but endorses the search for an environmental ethic. This is a subtle but important distinction central to the Deep Ecology approach. However it does not address the underlying concern that Deep Ecology has not made a significant contribution to environmental ethics, and it has certainly not laid the matter to rest or satisfied the critics.

Nonetheless, as the proto-Deep Ecology texts referred to in chapter 2 agree, the ecological crisis is a problem that requires more than a technical solution, more than a change in the techniques of the natural and social sciences; it demands a change in our general orientation and . I argue, further, that the ecological crisis also seems to demand a change in our attitudes to ourselves, to thought, and to the self as a . The change in consciousness to which Hardin referred in 1968 must now be seen as more than a matter of “consciousness raising,” in the 1970s countercultural sense (not that Hardin, White or Carson spoke in such terms). In my view, it must include a degree of consciousness transformation in the Yogic, Bohmian, and Spinozan sense; or at least an awareness of the structures of consciousness that make up the empirical self. Where Naess speaks of identification and the ecological self as an alternative to the notion that we have to unselfishly give up pleasures for the sake of the environment, Hindu and Buddhist systems of thought concentrate on revealing the illusory nature of ego- pleasures.

71

I will be arguing that several forms of nondualism may have a positive role to play in the development of firmer foundations for ecophilosophy. These are the nondualism of self and world, the nondualism of relationship and continuity (or relationship and oneness), the nondualism of mind and matter, and the nondualism of the observer and the observed. Another form of nondualism with a potential application to environmental ethics is the nondualism of action and its consequences, to be discussed in connection with the doctrine of karma in chapter 7. Each of these has a precedent not only in various forms of Hindu metaphysics and Buddhist epistemology, but also in the relatively neglected works of Bruno and Bohm.

72 Chapter 2 The Deep Ecology Approach

“What is Deep Ecology?” Saying what Deep Ecology is, is a bit like trying to say what is, or science, or Marxism: the basic principles that were initially set forth as the axioms of Deep Ecology are so extraordinarily rich in meaning, and figure in so many traditions of thought, that they inevitably accrete different layers of meaning with each interpreter (Mathews 1995a, p.126).

The above quotation suggests there may be several ways of situating Deep Ecology. As mentioned earlier, in this dissertation I mainly restrict my comments to Deep Ecology as a new ecocentric philosophy. Before embarking on an analysis of Deep Ecology, however, I would like to reflect on a number of texts that reveal the intellectual milieu in which this ecological philosophy arose.

Cited by Naess and others as germinal to the movement, Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring and Lynn White Jr.’s ‘The Historical Roots of our Ecologic Crisis’ might be categorised in some respects as “proto Deep Ecology”. The book that arguably launched the environmental movement is Silent Spring. As former Deep Ecology theorist Warwick Fox13 once put it: ‘the birth of the environmental movement as a vigorous, temporally continuous, geographically widespread, and increasingly well-organized social and political phenomenon’, is typically dated to the 1962 publication of Silent Spring (Fox 1990/1995, p.4). Carson’s articulate, well-conceived critique, appeared on the New York Times best-seller list for thirty-one weeks, and sold half a million copies in hardcover alone.

13 Since the mid 1990s, Warwick Fox has been working in the field of mainstream environmental ethics. Currently, he is Senior Lecturer in Philosophy at the Centre for Professional Ethics, University of Lancashire.

73 The birth of the environmental movement is almost universally dated to the publication and ensuing discussion of Carson’s epoch-making book. One reason for this is perhaps as George Sessions once claimed: it ‘had the effect of raising serious doubts concerning the wisdom and competence of technological experts in their efforts to manage the resources responsibly and safely’ (Sessions 1984/1988, p.34). Questioning the role of technological experts, along with the suggestion that there exists a class of problems which admits of no technical solution, was to become a recurring theme in the Deep Ecology movement.

In Silent Spring, Carson questioned how it is that ‘intelligent beings’ could attempt to control a few unwanted pests, ‘by a method that contaminated the entire environment and brought the threat of disease and death even to their own kind’ (Carson 1962/1987, p.8). She pointed out that: ‘A truly extraordinary variety of alternatives to the chemical control of insects is available’ - including insect sterilisation, induced bacterial infections, and repelling by ultrasonic sound (Carson 1962/1987, p.278-88). Whether or not these methods are effective, and whether or not they have since been trialed, is not relevant to the present discussion. What is important to note is that Silent Spring emphasised the menace posed by pesticides to human health; and also highlighted the significance of what Carson called ‘the basic ecology of all living beings’, which, in the author’s estimation, far outweighed any other aspect of the problem then under discussion (Sessions 1995 a, p.171).

The final conclusion of Silent Spring was that the “control of nature”:

is a phrase conceived in arrogance, born of the Neanderthal age of biology and philosophy, when it was supposed that nature exists for the convenience of man. The concepts and practices of applied entomology for the most part date from that Stone Age of science. It is our alarming misfortune that so primitive a science has armed itself with the most modern and terrible weapons, and that in turning them against the insects it has also turned them against the earth (Carson 1962/1987, p.297).

74

In his foreword to the twenty-fifth anniversary edition, Paul Brooks remarked upon the revolutionary qualities of Silent Spring, which while awakening us to the poisoning of the earth: ‘will continue to remind us that … change can be brought about, not through incitement to war or violent revolution, but rather by altering the direction of our thinking about the world we live in’ (Carson 1962/1987, p.xiv).

That was certainly the message taken away by Naess. Naess has remarked that though he may have coined the phrase, ‘the originator’ of Deep Ecology was Rachel Carson (in Rothenberg 1993, p.131). In his book of interviews, David Rothenberg relates the story of Naess’s introduction to Silent Spring by Jon Wetlesen, a student and friend. Having read the book at Wetlesen’s instigation, Naess declared: ‘At last, there was a real possibility of fighting to save free nature and to save the planet’ (in Rothenberg 1993, p.132).

In altering our thinking about our relationship to nature Silent Spring inspired a non- violent ecocentric revolution which has influenced almost every field of human endeavour including law, academic philosophy, politics, education, business, and international relations. This ecologically centred revolution extends beyond the Deep Ecology movement, including many forms of radical ecology such as ecofeminism and social ecology as well as elements of the peace and social movements that have embraced ecological concerns. It has also extended its reach into ecopsychology and ecotheology.

Also predating the foundation of the Deep Ecology movement as such, but raising many of the issues with which Deep Ecology theorists would soon concern themselves, is Lynn White Jr.’s essay, ‘The Historical Roots of our Ecologic Crisis’, first published in the journal Science in 1967. It opens ’s Western Man And Environmental Ethics, a volume which the editor pointed out went beyond the litany of statistics and

75 ‘horror stories’ already familiar by the early 1970s, to examine ‘the basic about nature, man, and society which influence the way man treats the earth ...’ (Barbour 1973, p.1). In the six years since its original publication, White’s essay had already become a classic, having been reproduced in several journals, 'ranging from The Oracle, the organ of the Hippie movement in San Francisco, to the plush magazine Horizon’ (Dubos 1973, p.45). Sessions reported that it was also reprinted in The Boy Scout Handbook (Sessions 1995 a, p.171).

Fox described White’s paper as probably having generated more controversy than any other paper in the history of modern environmental thought, making it ‘compulsory reading’ for anyone interested in ecophilosophy or the development of science and technology (Fox 1990/1995, p.6). Several other contributions to Western Man And Environmental Ethics repeated the charge, made by White, that in its exhortation to man’s dominion over nature biblical religion bears a great responsibility for the environmental crisis. The volume also contains several critiques of the White thesis. These covered three main objections, listed by Barbour as: (1) the counter-claim that ‘non-Christian cultures have harmed natural environments as much as Christian ones’; (2) a suggestion that the Bible admits of various ecologically benign interpretations; and (3) an argument that ‘the rise of capitalism and industry must be assigned major roles in the origins of the environmental crisis’ (Barbour 1973, p.6/7).

Lewis Moncrief disagreed with the notion that religion is the ‘primary conditioner of human behavior toward the environment’, and with the notion that ‘the Judeo-Christian religion uniquely predisposes cultures within which it thrives to exploit their natural resources with indiscretion’ (Moncrief 1973, p.33). Citing the influence of widespread democratisation and technological innovations, he suggested an alternative, that capitalism, and the development of science and technology, together with democratisation, combined to bring about an increase in urbanisation and the

76 accumulation of wealth, which along with exponential population growth had brought about widespread environmental degradation (Moncrief 1973, p.40).

Well aware of the ecological effects of technology, White would not necessarily have disagreed with Moncrief’s position. White felt that the ecological crisis was the by- product of ‘a forward surging technology’, but he pointed out that this technology first emerged during the Middle Ages, in a region dominated by the Church which treated technological advance as an aspect of (White Jr. 1973b, p.58). He felt that technology had been coloured by its association with Latin forms of Christianity, and that religion therefore represented a deeper level of causation. White expressed the view that generally speaking, he had ‘more and more converged upon religion ... as a source for historical explanations’ (White Jr. 1973b, p.57). Within a decade or so this sentiment was to shape the new field of ecotheology.

In his survey of eco-philosophical literature, Sessions establishes that White was not the first, ‘to call attention to the unecological Christian view of man-nature’. He lists as White’s precursors among others: in Religion: A Dialogue and Other Essays (1890); D.H. Lawrence in ‘Pan in America’ (1924), reprinted in The Everlasting Universe: Readings on the Ecological Universe (1971); the ecologist Marston Bates, who proposed St. Francis as the patron saint of ecologists in The Forest and the Sea (1960); Roderick Nash in ‘The American Wilderness in Historical Perspective’ (1963); and Aldous Huxley in ‘The Politics of Ecology’ (1964) (Sessions 1981, p.424). Whatever its genesis may be, the questioning of monotheistic religion has certainly taken hold in the environmental movement. As Bron Taylor notes:

Many Greens, perhaps especially those identifying with Deep Ecology, believe that monotheistic foster environmentally destructive behavior. Those religions shape consciousness such that humans believe that (1) they are the only species which deserves moral consideration and (2) the holy is above or beyond the world, and thus Earth’s living

77 systems are of penultimate moral concern … Put simply, Western religions are anthropocentric and “desacralize” nature; consequently they precipitate a war on nature and nature-beneficent cultures, and are the central engines of environmental calamity (Taylor 2000, p.270).

White conceived of Christianity as especially dualistic and exploitative in its Western forms. The Greek Church by contrast followed a contemplative ‘intellectualist’ tradition:

The Greeks believed that sin was intellectual blindness, and that was found in illumination, orthodoxy - that is, clear thinking. The , on the other hand, felt that sin was moral evil, and that salvation was to be found in right conduct. Eastern theology has been intellectualist. Western theology has been voluntarist. The Greek saint contemplates; the Western saint acts. The implications of Christianity for the conquest of nature would emerge more easily in the Western atmosphere (White Jr. 1973a, p.26).

Sessions has contended this last point, arguing that the main religious influences on Copernicus, Kepler and Galileo, for instance, were not of Judaeo-Christian origin, but ‘Greek Neo-Pythagorean mathematical mysticism and Neo-Platonism’ (Sessions 1974, p.75).14 Some twenty years later however, Sessions went on to endorse White’s central thesis that religious beliefs have played a key role in the ecological crisis. Thus, in his contribution to Worldviews and Ecology, Sessions focussed on ‘the relation of religious beliefs to the ecological crisis and … the religious aspects of Deep Ecology’ (Sessions 1994, p.207). The theme of religion, and the critique of , has remained central to Deep Ecology since its inception.

14 In this view, we would have to take account of the fact that Eastern Greek theology, although more contemplative and other-worldly than its Western counterpart, nonetheless provided the necessary grist for the mill of the Scientific Revolution. Given the complex mix of influences evident in the debates of the seventeenth century, it would not be difficult to construct an argument which took account of both of the above views on the matter. This, however, is not the occasion to attempt it.

78

Though it is true that the Hermetic and Platonic influences on the development of early modern science have been neglected until recent decades, the larger point made by White in the above statement seems to have been missed by Sessions, and the perhaps dozen critiques of the White thesis that I have read - that is, the distinction White drew between the contemplative or ‘intellectualist’ tradition of the Eastern churches, and the voluntarist tradition of the Latin West. The relevance of this is twofold. First, it appears to presage one of the major cleavages within environmental philosophy today, the yet to be resolved tension between ontological and axiological approaches. Rightly or wrongly, Deep Ecology is perceived as an advocate of consciousness change, over and above value based ethics, of beautiful actions (after Kant and then Naess) at the expense of conduct ethics or voluntarism. Fox once claimed on behalf of Deep Ecology that a change in the mode of being is more critical than a ethic. It might be argued that this is a false dichotomy, but the dichotomy exists in first and second- generation Deep Ecology theory.

Second, White’s distinction points to a dichotomy of a deeper order, the cleavage between the analytical and intuitive approaches that distinguish Western from in very general terms. White shows that this common feature of Western versus Eastern systems is also reflected in Latin versus Eastern forms of Christianity. In highlighting the more contemplative nature of Eastern forms of Christianity, White forges an early link with the nondualistic, contemplative approach taken by Huxley, Smith, and Schuon, who identify with many elements of Platonic thought and with Eastern forms of mysticism. White was using the word “intellectualist” in the Platonic sense, reflecting the values and nature of intellectus or intuition rather than those of discursive reason.

That few if any critics have remarked upon White’s allusion to the mystical, contemplative eclipsed by more dominant forms of Christianity, seems to indicate

79 either that such differences in epistemological orientation are not considered to be relevant to the ecological crisis, as I believe they are, or that critics of the White thesis have not been very “Perennial Philosophy” aware. Direct intuitive perception is the highwater mark of the contemplative tradition of the Greek Church, just as it is considered to be the highest form of intellection in Platonic traditions. This contemplative mode of knowing seems to have been so thoroughly eclipsed by dominant modes of analysis, that even when mentioned in one of the most frequently cited papers in the history of the environmental movement, it is passed over in silence. This omission strikes me as indicative of the incomplete absorption into Deep Ecology of these doctrines.

White’s paper begins with a reported conversation with Huxley. Huxley was an essayist and philosopher, novelist and poet, whose breadth of concerns encompassed psychology, metaphysics, and mysticism - all of which found their way into his annotated anthology The Perennial Philosophy (Huxley 1947). His last novel, Island (1961) was regarded as an ecotopian vision in which he expressed the opinion that, ‘Elementary ecology leads straight to elementary Buddhism’ (quoted in Devall and Sessions 1985, p.171). His novel Time Must Have A Stop (1945) is a philosophic coming of age story in which the hero, faced with the consequences of his selfishness, becomes aware of the aspect of eternity - hence time has come to a stop - and realises that what is important in life is self-knowledge, honesty, and direct insight into the nature of things. Devall and Sessions suggest that Huxley’s ecological consciousness may have been awakened by a long association with D. H. Lawrence. I might add that around the same time, Huxley was introduced to Vedânta by and , with whom he had a close association in California (Isherwood 1987, p.ix). The reported conversation with Huxley was brief, but looking back, an apt device, considering that ethics, psychology, metaphysics, Eastern thought, and poetry have continued to inform the Deep Ecology movement.

80 Huxley complained that the valley in which he had spent many happy months as a child, was now overgrown with brush, where once were grassy glades. To save the crops, the rabbits, which had kept the brush under control, had been subjected to myxomatosis. White pointed out that human-induced changes to the environment have a long history, the rabbit itself had been introduced as a domestic animal in 1176. Nevertheless, he went on to remark upon the difference in degree of recent human impact, which he believed had ‘so increased in force that it has changed in essence’ 15 (White Jr. 1973a, p.20).

The rest of White’s paper is a on what appeared to him to be the historical roots of this accelerated anthropogenic effect. By the 1970s, calls to redress or at least curb our onslaught on the environment were not uncommon, but in White’s estimation, unless we began to think about fundamentals, ‘our specific measures may produce new backlashes more serious than those they are designed to remedy’ (White Jr. 1973a, p.20). White’s call for a deeper questioning has received less attention than has his focus on the Christian roots of the environmental crisis, but the depth of questioning theme was to emerge as central to Deep Ecology. White’s thesis also expressed concern about an exclusive reliance on what was soon to be termed “shallow ecology” or reform environmentalism. As he expressed it: ‘I personally doubt that disastrous ecologic backlash can be avoided simply by applying to our problems more science and more technology’ (White Jr. 1973a, p.27). In saying so, White not only foreshadowed what was to become a dominant theme of Deep Ecology, he also presaged the chief thesis of Garrett Hardin’s essay ‘The Tragedy of The Commons’ (Hardin 1968).

Hardin’s paper, published in Science the following year to White’s, begins with a quotation from an article on the future of nuclear war in which the authors had

15 Naess once expressed a similar view, when he said: ‘We have “progressed” to the point where the objectives of the good life must be considered threatening’ (Naess 1989, p.25).

81 concluded that, in their judgement, nuclear war is a dilemma with no technical solution. In their opinion, ‘If the great powers continue to look for solutions in the area of science and technology only, the result will be to worsen the situation’ (quoted in Hardin 1968, p.1243). Hardin’s purpose in highlighting this statement was to draw attention to the existence of a class of problems for which there is no technical solution, that is, a solution ‘that requires only a change in the techniques of the natural sciences, demanding little or nothing in the way of change in human values or ideas of morality’ (Hardin 1968, p.1243). Naess later echoed this view:

A widespread assumption in influential circles of the industrial countries is that overcoming the environmental crisis is a technical problem: it does not presuppose changes in consciousness or economic system. This assumption is one of the pillars of the shallow ecological movement (Naess 1989, p.96).

Into this class of problems without a technical solution, Hardin placed “the population problem”, and “the problem of the environment”. Both White and Hardin were of the opinion that approaching problems for which there is no technical solution, as if they were technical problems, is likely to result in a worsening of the situation, or in White’s words again, by applying more technology without considering fundamentals: ‘our specific measures may produce new backlashes more serious than those they are designed to remedy’ (White Jr. 1973a, p.20).

Another milestone on the path to Deep Ecology, and to ecophilosophy, occurred in 1970 when during the peak of environmental concern a group of Western industrialists, known as The Club of Rome, commissioned the Massachusetts Institute of Technology to conduct a system dynamics study of what was described as “the predicament of mankind”. Their findings, published as The Limits to Growth, were at least as controversial as Silent Spring if not more so; although Limits was not as popular in the Deep Ecology movement. Naess later remarked that all such publications which are, ‘quantitatively tinged with statistics, computer-generated printouts, and in general what

82 is called sophisticated technology’, tend to be viewed negatively within the Deep Ecology movement (Naess 1989, p.152). In Naess’s opinion, however, The Club of Rome report had a positive impact on environmental policies: ‘Even in the most optimistic technological circles there is now acknowledgment of the limits to growth’ (Naess 1989, p.153), although Naess added that this appeared to be less so in the United States where the majority still seemed to believe that economic growth could proceed without end.

Two main conclusions were reached in the sensational best seller. First, that on the basis of unchecked growth trends in population, industrialisation, pollution, resource depletion, and food production the limits to growth on this planet would be reached some time within the next one hundred years. Second, that it would be possible to alter these trends, and establish a condition of ecological and economic stability that would be sustainable in the long term (Meadows 1988, p.259). To many readers the second conclusion appeared to be more worrying than the first. Limits, and similar publications of the day such as Blueprint for Survival and Small is Beautiful, bore an implied and often direct critique of the growth economy, and of the very idea of “development”. Denis Goulet, Richard B. Norgaard, Nicolas Georgescu-Roegen, Howard Odum, Herman E. Daly and other critics of the dominant economic model came to view mainstream development as intrinsically flawed; and they were not shy about stating their conclusion that conventional development models might be responsible for more environmental damage than any other factor.16

In the 1970s, critics of the growth economy consistently pointed out that its basic premises are diametrically opposed to the conservation of the environment. Conventional development was viewed as a process of ceaseless, ever-increasing production and consumption, heedless of ecological constraints. It was not without

16 For a brief overview of the intellectual tradition of growth criticism, see Herman Daly’s contribution to Scarcity and Growth Reconsidered (Daly 1979, especially p.73).

83 reason then, that a conservative lobby in Washington was troubled by the long-range Deep Ecology movement. In 1982 a Republican Study Committee concluded that there was a worrying trend:

towards a new revolutionary stream in the environmental movement referred to as “Deep Ecology” ... this powerful faction is not merely content with striving for environmental protections, [but] is seeking to cultivate a liberal, almost counter-culture view of the world ... Today’s environmentalist is not merely seeking a clean and safe environment, but is striving for some vague political goal, designed to come about by stopping energy production as we know it (T.M. Peckinpaugh, ‘The specter of environmentalism: the threat of environmental groups’: Washington DC, p.3 quoted in Naess 1989, p.18).

The Bonn Summit and the Brundtland Report joined with The Limits to Growth, in a unanimous affirmation of the need to redress North-South inequality as part of curbing growth and checking the adverse anthropogenic effect on natural systems. The extensive program of social reform implied in such positions was not taken lying down by those who stood to lose in the process of restructuring. Co-author Donella Meadows narrated, some years later, that in response to the conclusions reached in Limits, Mobil Oil mounted a campaign saying that growth is not a four-letter word, President Nixon had the scientists involved in the study investigated, the National Labor Caucus regularly disrupted meetings at which the subject was discussed in the United States, and economists wrote withering reviews. The hostile anti-Limits campaign demonstrated to Meadows that questioning economic growth, ‘is an excellent way to probe some of the deepest unconscious beliefs of industrial society’ (Meadows 1988, p.263).

THE EMERGENCE OF DEEP ECOLOGY

It was in this intellectual climate that in 1973 the journal Inquiry published Naess’s introductory lecture at a World Future Research Conference in Bucharest 1972. It was

84 called, ‘The shallow and the deep, long-range ecology movement. A summary’. In this paper, he articulated and helped to launch the long range Deep Ecology movement (Sessions 1995 c, p.63). The abstract as it appeared in Inquiry reads as follows:

Ecologically responsible policies are concerned only in part with pollution and resource depletion. There are deeper concerns which touch upon principles of diversity, complexity, autonomy, decentralization, symbiosis, egalitarianism, and classlessness (Naess 1973, p.95).

Eckersley points out that, aside from contributions such as Silent Spring, in the 1960s there were few sustained theoretical reflections that arose specifically in response to the ecological crisis (Eckersley 1992, p.9). Eckersley has delineated three stages of eco- political enquiry to date. In the first stage, the environmental problematic was barely distinguished from the concerns of other social movements. Then, following the publication of The Limits to Growth, the enquiry shifted gear into the survivalist stage, in which “the environment” came to be viewed as a “problem” in its own right. At this stage it was largely treated as a problem of survival for human beings, but it was soon recognised that survival is not an issue for humanity alone. In this third phase of eco- political enquiry it is increasingly felt that this problem which history has thrown at us represents an opportunity for social transformation, or as Eckersley and others have put it, emancipation (Eckersley 1992, p.8-20). Deep Ecology and other forms of radical ecology enter at this last stage.

Eckersley characterised the theme of emancipation permeating ecocentric philosophy as ‘emancipation writ large’, with all entities, not just humans, possessing the right, the freedom or the destiny of unfolding in their own way, ‘unhindered by various forms of human domination’ (Eckersley 1992, p.53). This third phase of eco-political inquiry poses questions such as:

85 Surely more of us (human and nonhuman) can live richer and fuller lives if humans can become less dependent on this kind of technological infrastructure and the kinds of commodities and lifestyles it offers? (Eckersley 1992, p.20).

Klaus Eder and others argue that we have now entered a post-environmental phase, in which questions such as this may have been by-passed by a system that has managed to adjust to the new ecological ethos, without radically changing to meet its imperatives. This proposition will be discussed in chapter 4. For now, it is only necessary to note that the importance of consciousness change, the possibilities of alternative worldviews, and the limits to anthropocentrism have all been taken up and buttressed by the Deep Ecology movement. In this relatively recent phase of eco-political enquiry, the social and psychological costs of material progress have received attention, along with the purely physical limits to growth. Eckersley included among those costs:

alienation, loss of meaning, the coexistence of extreme wealth and extreme poverty, welfare dependence, dislocation of tribal cultures, and the growth of an international urban monoculture with a concomitant reduction in cultural diversity (Eckersley 1992, p.18).

In his first Deep Ecology paper, Naess distinguished between, ‘A shallow, but presently rather powerful movement, and a deep, but less influential movement’. The terms shallow and deep were of his choosing, but the distinction was based on an observation of the state of environmental activism in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Naess developed the deeper lines of questioning indicated by both Carson and White. Other terms may have proven less problematic than Deep Ecology, and some, such as “ecological resistance”, “radical ecology”, “ecologism”, and the “New Natural Philosophy” have been used from time to time. But the contrast between shallow ecology and Deep Ecology is the typology that has been taken up in mainstream eco-

86 philosophical discussion. In his survey of the field, Fox acknowledged that the controversial (others have suggested blighted) expression has spilled over ‘into much of the popularly based discussion of environmentalism’ (Fox 1990/1995, p.37).

Naess originally referred to the deep/shallow divide in the following terms. Shallow ecology he said was chiefly concerned with the fight against pollution, and had as its central objective ‘the health and affluence of people in the developed countries’. The Deep Ecology movement was characterised by seven principles or intuitions: rejection of the man-in-environment image, biospherical egalitarianism, principles of diversity and symbiosis, an anti-class posture, the fight against pollution and resource depletion, complexity rather than complication, and finally, local autonomy and decentralisation (Naess 1973, p.95). It has been repeatedly stressed that Naess regarded his original summation as just one of many possible summaries of the intuitions and principles of the movement. Naess has listed the tenets of the movement as follows:

(1) The well-being of nonhuman life on Earth has value in itself. This value is independent of any instrumental usefulness for limited human purposes. (2) Richness and diversity in life forms contribute to this value and is a further value in itself. (3) Humans have no right to interfere destructively with nonhuman life except for purposes of satisfying vital needs. (4) Present interference is excessive and detrimental. (5) Present policies must therefore be changed. (6) The necessary policy changes affect basic economic and ideological structures and will be the more drastic the longer it takes before significant change is started. (7) The ideological change is mainly that of appreciating life quality (focussing on situations involving inherent value) rather than enjoying a high standard of life (measured in terms of available means). (8) Those who subscribe to the foregoing points have an obligation directly or indirectly to try to implement the necessary changes (Naess 1984, p.266).

There are various versions of the eight point platform in circulation. More than once, Naess included a statement about human population. Another version of point 4 reads: ‘The flourishing of human life and cultures is compatible with a substantial decrease of

87 the human population. The flourishing of nonhuman life requires such a decrease’ (quoted in Sessions 1994, p.212). In place of the above warning in point 6 that the policy changes will be the more drastic the longer they are put off, Naess has elsewhere formulated point 6 as: ‘Policies must therefore be changed. These policies affect basic economic, technological, and ideological structures. The resulting state of affairs will be deeply different from the present’ (Sessions 1994, p.212). He has explained that the Platform, as it is known, is meant to be a ‘fairly general and abstract’ statement, acceptable to most supporters of the Deep Ecology movement. The eight points, he says, are not meant to function as a definition of the Deep Ecology movement:

neither as a rule-given definition of the term, nor as a plain description of how the expression “Deep Ecology movement” is actually used, nor as an expression of the essence of the Deep Ecology movement (Naess, 1995 c, p.214).

Naess has avoided any attempt to provide a dictionary-style definition of Deep Ecology, once writing:

I do not know of any satisfactory definitions at the dictionary level. For instance, I do not think a dictionary entry like the following is very helpful: “Deep Ecology movement: A movement within environmentalism which is activist, ecocentric rather than anthropocentric, and based on nonviolent philosophical or religious views” (Naess, 1995 c, p.214).

For Naess, the above is not a satisfactory definition, even though all these things are true of Deep Ecology: it is ecocentric, activist, and (largely) nonviolent. One thing should be stressed however, that more often than not Naess describes Deep Ecology as a movement rather than a metaphysic, a worldview, a philosophy, or a tool for personal development. For Naess, Deep Ecology is primarily an international social movement dedicated to protecting nature against destruction, a movement ‘with key terms, slogans, and rhetorical use of language comparable to what we find in other activist

88 “alternative” movements today’ (Naess 1984, p.265). Some supporters of Deep Ecology are involved with academic philosophy, and a few have attempted to develop their own “ecosophies,” philosophies inspired by ecology. However, as the following description implies, in Naess’s hands Deep Ecology is principally a social movement:

[It] is not a philosophy in any proper academic sense, nor is it institutionalized as a religion or an ideology. Rather, what happens is that various persons come together in campaigns and direct actions. They form a circle of friends supporting the same kind of lifestyle which others may think to be “simple,” but which they themselves see as rich and many-sided. They agree on a vast array of political issues, although they may otherwise support different political parties … They react against the same threats in a predominantly nonviolent way (Naess 1995 a, p.71).

Detractors are likely to agree that Deep Ecology is not a philosophy in any ‘proper academic sense’, perhaps arguing that it is not coherent enough for that. Nevertheless, recurring themes are clearly discernible in the literature, principally in the works of the first generation theorists. These are: the depth of questioning, Self-realisation and wider identification, non-anthropocentrism or ecocentrism, a critique of the technological fix, a critique of the dominant mind-set, a focus on religion and spirituality, and an exhortation to act in the defence of nature.

Inspiration for the movement and its philosophy has come from a variety of sources. First and second-generation Deep Ecology authors frequently refer (in various combinations) to Buddhism, Taoism, Hindu metaphysics, Spinoza, Whitehead, the Presocratics, the European Romantics, the American Transcendentalists, native American wisdom, the Perennial Philosophy, process philosophy, ecological (or steady- state) economics, the science of ecology, and quantum physics. In many cases, however, Deep Ecology has its own “take” on philosophies and worldviews from which

89 it has drawn insight and inspiration. The schematic diagram overleaf may help to order the various elements of Deep Ecology.

90 Figure 3. Tentative thematic survey of Deep Ecology (To be read downwards rather than across the diagram)

Themes recurring in the Sources & Inspirations as Thought + Action typical literature of the declared by key authors of the movement can be movement seen in

1. depth of questioning 1. Eastern thought 1. ecopolitics

2. Self-realisation and wider 2. alternative Western 2. activism/direct action and identification religious traditions reinhabitation (including Heraclitus & 3. non-anthropocentrism Pythagoras) 3. ecotheology and intrinsic value 3. native American wisdom 4. ecological consciousness

4. critique of the 4. Perennial Philosophy 5. ecopsychology technological fix 5. ecological economics 6. earth philosophy in 5. critique of dominant Australia mind-set 6. process philosophy

6. religion and spirituality 7. ecology

8. quantum physics

DEEP ECOLOGY AND GREEN CONSCIOUSNESS

For the purposes of any cogent analysis it is important to distinguish between Deep Ecology as a social movement and the philosophy of Deep Ecology. Few environmentalists would have a quarrel with Deep Ecology as an international social movement dedicated to protecting nature against destruction, a movement as Naess described it, 'with key terms, slogans, and rhetorical use of language comparable to what we find in other activist “alternative” movements today’ (Naess 1984, p.265).

91 Admittedly, key terms such as “biospherical egalitarianism” have raised the ire of a number of environmental philosophers including Sylvan and Cheney, but if such terms had remained at the level of slogans, they may not have so alarmed a number of environmentalists who are also practicing philosophers.

On the other hand, sustained criticism has certainly been evoked by Deep Ecology as a new ecocentric philosophy, not so much for its ecocentrism per se, but for its unique blend of Eastern and Western, intuitive and analytic elements, portrayed in such notions as Self-realisation, and Fox’s wider identification thesis. In the main, critics have pointed to a difference in approach between Naess and subsequent theorists of the movement. On occasion it has been suggested that Sessions and Fox were responsible for corrupting Deep Ecology with some form of spiritual dogmatism, forcing people to be spiritual and engaging in an essentialist narrative. That is perhaps unfair. Deep Ecology is not only tolerant of other ecocentric and movements, it has affirmed its allegiance with the women’s movement, the peace movement, and the social justice movement. Naess has on many occasions expressed the following view:

[I]t’s very important to be aware of at least three tremendous movements today. We have the Green movement, we have the social justice movement, we have the peace movement. And within the Green movement, you have the Deep Ecology movement .... These movements will never merge into one, but their interests do overlap (in Rothenberg 1993, p.146).

John Barry has argued that Deep Ecology is not the Green movement’s philosophical foundation, that environmental politics does not need a commitment to the principles or philosophy of Deep Ecology, and that some of the problems encountered by Green politics, ‘stem from the undeserved emphasis often put on Deep Ecology’ (Barry 1993, p.43/4). Yet when in 1984 Jonathon Porritt, a member of the British Green Party and Director of Friends of the Earth in the United Kingdom, set out what in his view were

92 the common elements of Green consciousness, he basically described the ethos of Deep Ecology (in Seeing Green: The Politics of Ecology Explained Basil Blackwell: Oxford). Perhaps Barry does not consider that sentiments such as the following represent Green consciousness, but, if they do, then the points reproduced from Porritt’s book below do indicate an intrinsic relationship between Deep Ecology and Green consciousness, which, according to Porritt, embodies the following conceptions and sensibilities:

93

• a reverence for the earth and all its creatures • a willingness to share the world’s wealth among all its people • prosperity to be achieved through sustainable alternatives to the rat race of economic growth • lasting security to be achieved through non-nuclear defence strategies and considerably reducing arms spending • a rejection of materialism and the destructive values of industrialism • a recognition of the rights of future generations in our use of all resources • an emphasis on socially useful, personally rewarding work, enhanced by human-scale technology • protection of the environment as a pre-condition of a healthy society • an emphasis on personal growth and • respect for the gentler side of human nature • open, participatory democracy at every level of society • recognition of the crucial importance of significant reductions in population levels • harmony between people of every race, colour and creed • a non-nuclear, low-energy strategy, based on conservation, greater efficiency and renewable resources • an emphasis on self-reliance and decentralised communities (in Jagtenberg, 1989, p.409).

Hutton adds that we need to make fundamental changes to our personal values, ‘if we are to lead lives consistent with the ethics of Green politics’, changes such as:

• a rejection of humanity/environment dualism in favour of a holistic perspective which emphasises the relationship between the two (and the connections between all things) and the need for humans to see themselves as part of nature • adherence to the notion of sustainability … an anti-consumer ethic which allows us to appreciate the finite resources of the planet and to live in harmony with nature… • a valuing of diversity in many areas but also valuing the need for equality in social terms, including between developed and developing nations, men and women, highly educated and less educated (Jagtenberg, 1989, p.409/10).

94

In the foregoing, there are such strong echoes of Naess’s views, intuitions, propositions, and norms that the question arises whether Porritt and Hutton’s green consciousness is Deep Ecology by another name, or whether contrary to Barry’s assertion, Deep Ecology does represent the philosophical foundation of the Green movement after all. The diagram below highlights the parallels between Naess on Deep Ecology, and Porritt’s conception of Green consciousness (this is meant to be read across):

Figure 4. Green Consciousness in Naess, Hutton and Porritt

Naess Hutton/Porritt Rejection of the man-in-environment Rejection of humanity/environment image in favour of the relational total field dualism image (Naess 1973, p.95)

An anti-class posture and principles of diversity and symbiosis extended to, ‘the Valuing diversity and equality in social fight against economic and cultural, as terms, ‘including between developed and much as military, invasion and domination developing nations, men and women, … of human tribes and cultures' (Naess highly educated and less educated’. 1973, p.96)

A call for local autonomy and decentralisation (in the Platform) An emphasis on self-reliance and decentralised communities Questions such as: “Is a high standard of material affluence conducive to A ‘rejection of materialism and the

95 happiness?”; “…whether the present destructive values of industrialism’ society fulfils basic human needs like love and security and access to nature”; and, “Are people being encouraged to believe in a constantly receding pie in the sky? (Naess 1989, p.40)

96 It would be time consuming but not difficult to match each of Porritt and Hutton’s items with a number of comparable statements made by Naess over the years, but I trust the point has been made well enough for present purposes. As already indicated, the similarities between Green consciousness as envisaged by Porritt are such that a number of possibilities arise: (1) Deep Ecology is green consciousness by another name; (2) In his original paper, Naess accurately stated that Deep Ecology was not his creation, but simply the naming of a phenomenon already in existence; (3) Deep Ecology once named and focussed upon has had a marked leavening effect on environmental thinking, in the decade and a half since Naess coined the term and Hutton outlined Green values. I tend to think there is an element of truth in all three propositions. Deep Ecology is Green consciousness, in that it embodies many elements commonly described as such (along with some that are not), Naess fairly accurately described an emerging phenomenon, and Deep Ecology has had a leavening effect on environmental thinking. This last is indicated by Taylor’s ethnographic research into the movement, conducted over a ten-year period primarily in North America. In Taylor’s view, Deep Ecology has shaped much of the grassroots environmental movement in the United States (Taylor 2000, p.269).

The obvious similarity between Deep Ecology and Green consciousness still leaves something distinct about the Deep Ecology approach, to be explored below, but the foregoing ought to indicate that the two are not as readily separable as Barry has allowed.

THE DEEP ECOLOGY APPROACH

Over the past few decades many theorists have turned to thinkers such as Whitehead, Spinoza, Heidegger and Heraclitus for insight and inspiration in the search for a new

97 philosophy that would enable ecologically sound practice, and accord with the new complexity sciences (Meeker 1981, p251; Schultz and Hughes 1981, p.xviii). Deep Ecology has drawn on each of these sources as well as Native American wisdom traditions, elements of Eastern thought, and metaphysics. But what is distinctive about the Deep Ecology approach to the questions and concerns outlined in chapter 1?

As has been shown, a number of recurring themes are evident in the writings of the first generation Deep Ecology theorists. These include the depth of questioning, Self- realisation, non-anthropocentrism (or ecocentrism), a critique of the technological fix, a critique of scientific materialism, a focus on religion and spirituality, and an exhortation to act in defence of nature. Many of these elements it shares in common with other radical ecological philosophies such as ecofeminism and social ecology. The notion of Self-realisation and the “intuition” of biospherical egalitarianism, as Naess has put it, together with the notion of an ecological self, could however be said to represent Deep Ecology’s unique contribution to the ongoing search for a viable ecophilosophy.

Eric Katz, Associate Professor of Philosophy and Director of the Science, Technology, and Society Program at the New Jersey Institute of Technology has isolated three features which he believes distinguish Deep Ecology from other eco-philosophical positions:

(1) identification with the nonhuman natural world; (2) the preeminent value of Self-realization; and (3) a relational holistic ontology as the basis of values and decisions (Katz 2000, p.24).

According to Katz:

It is only these ideas that distinguish Deep Ecology from positions held by Rolston, Callicott, Brennan and Leopold. Furthermore, it is only these ideas that clearly distinguish Deep Ecology from similar "radical"

98 environmental philosophies - such as bioregionalism and social ecology (Katz 2000, p.24).

The first point, the identification with the natural world, also distinguishes Deep Ecology from the traditions in which the notion of Self-realisation first arose. At the very least, it can be said that Deep Ecology has augmented the doctrine of Self- realisation with the notion of the "ecological self". As already mentioned, Callicott regards Self-realisation as a distinctive feature of Deep Ecology; and a similar assessment was made by Fox (Fox 1989, p.32). Before examining the doctrine of Self- realisation, both within the literature of the Deep Ecology movement and in the texts from which it ultimately derives, I would first examine the notion of an ecological self, which is unique to Deep Ecology and which has informed its treatment of Self- realisation.

THE ECOLOGICAL SELF

The thumbnail sketch of Deep Ecology’s position given by Katz above is often expressed more succinctly in the term ecological consciousness, or ecological self, which Naess introduced to philosophy in 1985 (Naess 1995 b, p.226). This notion is pivotal to the Deep Ecology version of Self-realisation. In Deep Ecology, Self- realisation and ecological consciousness are almost synonymous terms, but because the doctrine of Self-realisation has a life and a history of its own, beyond the notion of an ecological self, it is important that they remain distinct.

Naess explains that the developmental stages of the self have been traditionally considered to be: ‘from ego to social self (comprising the ego), and from social self to metaphysical self (comprising the social self)’, with nature largely ignored (Naess 1995 b, p.227). This notion of an expansive sense of self was introduced into popular psychology by Abraham Maslow in Toward a Psychology of Being (1968), which

99 posited ‘a sense of self that extends beyond one’s egoic, biographic, or personal sense of self’ (quoted in Bragg 1996, p.95). “Transpersonal” was the term Maslow adopted to describe this expanded self. In some respects Naess takes up where Maslow leaves off, introducing the notion of an ecological self which brings in nature, at the same time emphasising the fact that the individuality is never lost in the wider self. Naess holds that although the individual is not isolatable or isolated, ‘individual egos remain separate’, not dissolving into any collectivity (Naess 1989, p.195).

Naess has offered little definition of the term, however, beyond suggesting that the ecological self is that with which a person identifies (Naess 1985a, p.261; Naess 1995 b, p.227). In this perhaps he was influenced by in The Principles of Psychology (1891), a book Naess greatly admired.17 In a chapter on ‘The Consciousness of Self’ James shows that although theoretically it would be possible to be both a philosopher and a philanderer, a saint and a statesman, or all of these things and more, in practical terms and for various reasons we generally have to choose one with which to identify; and it is against that with which we have identified - that which we see ourselves as - that we take our measure of failure or success. For instance, at the time of writing, James was a psychologist who was much put out if others knew more psychology than he, but not at all concerned about his total ignorance of the Greek language (James 1891/1952, p.199/200).

James argued that “self-feeling,” or in Naess’s terminology “identification,” is entirely in our power. Further that we are sensitive and vulnerable concerning that with which we have identified. In his effortless prose: ‘Neither threats nor pleadings can move a man unless they touch some one of his potential or actual selves. Only thus, can we, as a rule, get a “purchase” on another’s will’ (James 1891/1952, p.201). In the Deep

17 Sessions notes that Naess regarded The Principles of Psychology as "the best introduction to the psychology of the self." (Sessions 1996, http://www.icaap.org/iuicode?6.13.3.11).

100 Ecology movement, this, I believe, has transmogrified into the notion that we will defend that with which we identify. Deep Ecology theorist and Buddhist scholar Joanna Macy stresses the role of choice in identification, when she states:

This ecological self, like any notion of selfhood, is a metaphoric construct and a dynamic one. It involves choice; can be made to identify at different moments with different dimensions or aspects of our systemically interrelated existence - be they hunted whales or homeless humans or the planet itself (Macy 1990, p.62/3).

Naess has defined identification as, ‘a spontaneous, non-rational … process through which the interest or interests of another being are reacted to as our own interest or interests’ (quoted in Bragg 1996, p.95).

The workshop description of Ruth Rosenhek's Wild Earth, Wild Heart, Wild Mind: A Journey in Ecopsychology states that to acknowledge our:

interconnectedness with air and water and soil, indeed our IDENTITY with them, is to invite the spontaneous healing of psyche. It is from these elements that psyche too is woven … . Using personal sharing, experiential Deep Ecology and creative exercises, we will excavate the obstructions between person and planet. Vision and empowerment arise naturally from realigning ourselves with the Earth (www.rainforestinfo.org.au/deep-eco/schedule.htm).

Rosenhek and Seed of the Rainforest Information Centre, Lismore, New South Wales (of which more detail in chapter 4) conduct workshops on the Council of All Beings and the Timeline of Light, practices which they feel help to empower eco-activists, and ‘release the culturally-conditioned, competitive, isolated self’. Ecological ideas are not enough, they say:

101 To effectively serve the Earth and our people we need an ecological identity, an ecological self. We grow our ecological self with rituals and ceremonies such as those practiced by the ancients - experiential processes which acknowledge and nourish the interconnectedness of the human with the rest of the Earth family (www.rainforestinfo.org.au/deep-eco/schedule.htm)

The Council of All Beings was created by Seed and Macy in 1979. It is an experiential workshop designed to awaken and heighten our identification with other living beings. Recognising the importance of ritual, it enables participants to enact, and thereby perhaps realise, the interconnectedness of all life. Council of All Beings workshops are now used in a wide variety of settings from forest retreats to prestigious business schools, such as the Master’s program in Responsibility and Business Practice at the University of Bath. As the title might suggest, this course is concerned with the development of management and business practices, responsive to the demand for greater social justice and environmental awareness (Maughan and Reason 2001).

In Elizabeth Bragg’s survey 18 of the notion of an ecological self, as it appears in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, she locates several meanings of this key notion: (1) a feeling of empathy, or emotional resonance; (2) a form of identification in which one sees or experiences another being as similar to oneself, a feeling which may culminate in an individual “becoming” another being, and apparently experiencing the world through the other’s senses; and (3) a state in which feelings of empathy or oneness appear to have generated “spontaneous” ecological behavior, such as defending parts of nature or nurturing other living beings. In each of these cases, 'the boundaries between self and other are dissolved’ (Bragg 1996, p.95-7). Or so it appears to those experiencing these states.

18 Conducted in the Department of Psychology and Sociology, James Cook University, Townsville, Australia.

102 Such behaviours, emotions, and insights would appear to support the Deep Ecology view that we will defend that with which we identify, not out of a sense of moral duty, but out of a natural desire to do so. Thus, as Bragg puts it:

The basic thesis is that if individuals extended their identification outward, finally encompassing all life-forms, ecosystems and the Earth itself, there would be no need for environmental ethics, “” or “self-sacrifice” (Bragg 1996, p.96).

It seems to me that this is a rather big IF. Perhaps it is true that if individuals identified with all life forms and with the earth as a totality, there would be no need for ethics or sacrifice, but as I say, this is a big if. In On Dialogue Bohm remarks: ‘We have to share the consciousness that we actually have. We can’t just impose another one’ (Bohm 1996, p.33). In terms of the present discussion, I would say that we have to work with the consciousness that we actually have, rather than assume the existence of another one. Similarly:

People sometimes say, “All we really need is love.” Of course, that’s true - if there were universal love, all would go well. But we don’t appear to have it. So we have to find a way that works (Bohm 1996, p.36).

It is equally possible that identification with the earth may not provide protection from neglect and abuse. Bragg points out the naivety of the belief that an expanded sense of self, encompassing the earth, will necessarily motivate people to act on behalf of nature. Considering the ‘prevalence of self-abuse and neglect in our society’, this she suggests is probably the most psychologically simplistic idea about the ecological self (Bragg 1996, p.96). The argument is that people who commit self-abuse, or neglect themselves, already identify with a body and a mind - themselves - which they thus neglect. So what

103 is the guarantee that an expanded sense of self, or identifying with other beings, will remedy that situation, or ensure that the expanded self will be cared for to a greater degree than one’s existing self?

The foregoing criticism is perhaps premised on the belief (mistaken, in Naess’s view) that selfishness or alienation is the normal or natural state of human being. It may be countered with the proposition that selfishness and alienation are not inevitable, and that a healthy state is one in which the human being will not abuse or neglect either the self or the other. On the matter of “natural” selfishness, Naess has argued:

Such unfortunate notions have narrow concepts of self as a point of departure. … Altruism is, according to this, a moral quality developed through suppression of selfishness, through sacrifice of one’s “own” interests in favor of those of others. Thus, alienation is taken to be the normal state … . The moral of self-sacrifice presupposes immaturity. Its relative importance is clear, in so far as we are all more or less immature (Naess 1985a, p.263).

Thus the argument might be made, as it has been made in the field of ecopsychology, that a person who is well integrated into community and nature, who has a positive and relatively complete sense of self, or is mature in the above sense, will not commit self- abuse. Abuse is symptomatic of a sense of self that is truncated, distorted, alienated, and fragmented. In the Yoga system, self-abuse and self-neglect would be the end result of misidentification with the empirical self (borrowing from Whicher 1998),19 caused by a lack of awareness of the transcendental or universal Self, the âtman which is our true nature. As it states in a Vedantic text attributed to Sankarâcârya, Viveka Cûdâmani or Crest-Jewel of Wisdom, ‘By reason of ignorance a connection between you who are Paramâtman [supreme spirit] and that which is not âtman is brought about and hence this wheel of embodied existence’ (Sri Samkaracharya 1973, p.23). Of course there is a

104 long journey or a large gap between the condition of identification with the empirical self, resulting from primordial ignorance of our true natures, and acts of self-abuse or neglect, to which other levels of causation may also apply.

Ecological consciousness refers to a state of being in which one not only identifies with the ego, the individual self (jîva), and with some sort of metaphysical, impersonal, or universal Self (âtman), but also with the earth and its non-human inhabitants including the trees, the air, the oceans, and all other vital parts of Gaia. It represents a progressive movement of ever widening identification with living beings and natural systems. Naess, Sessions, and others have argued that only a deeply felt ecological consciousness can provide a firm foundation for the defence of nature. Mention of the âtman is what makes Deep Ecology unique in ecophilosophy; its inclusion of the earth and its non- human inhabitants is what makes Deep Ecology exceptional in terms of Platonic and Upanishadic thought, in which the universal Self is a basic category from which the earth is largely absent.

As a consequence of all the above Deep Ecology has taken neither a rights based nor a values based approach to environmental ethics; rather, it has taken an approach that has been described as psychological or ontological (and to a lesser degree, metaphysical). A number of reasons have been given for this stance. One of Naess’s many responses to this issue is the statement:

We need environmental ethics, but when people feel that they unselfishly give up, or even sacrifice, their self-interests to show love for nature, this is probably, in the long run, a treacherous basis for conservation (Naess 1995 b, p.229).

However, it should be pointed out, as Mathews has acknowledged:

19 Ian Whicher is a Professor in Religion at Manitoba University, Canada.

105

[I]dentification for Naess is not a purely psychological affair, but is grounded in a recognition of the metaphysical fact of interconnectedness. The biological fact of ecological interconnectedness is taken to be a model of a deeper kind of interconnectedness which permeates the entire physical realm, from micro-to cosmo-levels… (Mathews 1994, p.148).

Nevertheless, for Naess it is our experience of the world, our experience of that radical interconnectedness, which counts. For him: ‘Ethics follow from how we experience the world’ (Naess 1989, p.20).

Related to ecological consciousness is Naess’s notion, derived from Kant, of beautiful actions. Naess writes that according to Kant, a moral act is one that is performed out of a sense of duty only, one that is entirely motivated by respect for moral law. A beautiful act is performed out of inclination, or at least partly so (Naess 1993, p.67). In his essay, “Beautiful action: its function in the ecological crisis”, Naess applies this formula to the environmental field. He shows that there are three main strategies by which institutions and persons try to influence ecologically impactful actions:

(i) appeal to usefulness of ecologically positive actions; and (ii) emphasis on moral obligations; and (iii) inducement to develop certain attitudes - inclinations in Kantian terminology (Naess 1993, p.68).

The emphasis at the governmental and institutional level has so far been on the first two strategies. Ecosystem health is widely perceived as having utilitarian value; it is therefore assumed that one has a duty to be ecologically responsible. Naess would like to see an upsurge of attention in the direction of our “natural” inclinations, or disinclinations, to act in ways that are ecologically responsible and responsive (Naess 1993, p.68).

106 Both Kant and Naess propose that ‘Acting from inclination is superior to acting from duty’ (Naess 1993, p.69). Naess does not say what he means by “superior”. He says only that the sense of duty is generally weak and inconstant. Hence it would be more certain of outcome to incline people to act in ecologically beneficial ways, or if people were so inclined (Naess 1993, p.69). Naess further suggests that when norms are internalised, that is, when dutiful or moral acts become habitual and start to feel natural, ‘the moral act glides into a beautiful act’ (Naess 1993, p.69).

The suggestion that inclinations are internalised societal norms is a questionable one in my view. Internalised societal norms would not fulfil the role played by direct intuitive perception in Upanishadic and Platonic philosophy, nor I believe in Spinoza’s system, each of which emphasise understanding (or adequate cognition). If beautiful acts are just internalised societal norms, then they would appear to differ little from moral acts: that is, if they are merely moral acts, or obligations, internalised to the point that they appear to be natural or beautiful, as seems to be the case in Kant via Naess.

Instead of internalising societal norms, both Upanishadic and Platonic philosophy speak in terms of unfolding or realising the norms inherent in the Self or consciousness, their emphasis is on revealing the illusory nature of ego-pleasures. The wisdom which Naess seeks (Naess 1985a, p.258), is believed by Platonists to be an innate power of the soul, an innate faculty. Naess comes very close to this view when he states that alienation is not the normal state, and that the individual will naturally undergo a process of maturation in which the sense of Self widens to embrace the world as a totality (Naess 1985a, p.63-4). The notions “natural” and “innate” would appear to do the same duty in this context. If alienation or separateness is not our normal or final condition, then perhaps unity or oneness is. Otherwise, how could it be said that the individual will naturally undergo the process of maturation in which the Self embraces the totality? Naess prefers to speak in terms of identification rather than unity or oneness, but the implication that the realisation of unity or oneness is a “natural” part of psychological

107 development remains just below the surface of Deep Ecology, as many of its detractors have noted (for instance Cheney 1989; Plumwood 1995; Plumwood 2000).

If it is in the nature of the human being to realise a sense of oneness, to realise that one’s innermost Self is the same as the Self in all, then perhaps it is not a question of societal norms becoming internalised at all, but a matter of awakening or nurturing innate sensitivities that are generally suppressed or devalued by society. Naess’s prescription for fostering ecologically sensitive inclinations would seem to support this view. He suggests that these inclinations should be fostered from kindergarten to university; rather than, as is normally the case, that most of us from cradle to grave are alienated from nature, at least in the “developed” world. In the average kindergarten says Naess, children are not brought into contact with non-human living beings except as “pests” (Naess 1993, p.71). The child’s innate sense of wonder, and relationship with nature, is not fostered, but ignored or even suppressed. At university, those studying aspects of nature do so only at an intellectual or mental level, as observers divorced from what is studied (Naess 1993, p.71). Naess proposes that we can only experience the environment if we do something in it. We experience the environment ‘by living in it, meditating and acting’ (Naess 1989, p.63).

Consequently, Naess suggests that education, if it is to assist in the development of ecologically enlightened attitudes and inclinations, should provide or at least allow for, experiential insight. This emphasis on personal insight, some have said “personal growth,” has led to the view that Deep Ecology eschews ethics, which Naess claims is not the case. But before turning to a consideration of the arguments against Deep Ecology in the chapter after next, the use of the ambiguous notion “Self-realisation,” in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, must be distinguished from other treatments especially that of the Upanishads whence it derives.

108 SELF-REALISATION

Without understanding this pivotal idea it would not be possible to out an understanding of Deep Ecology, or to engage with the criticisms against it that largely revolve around the adaptation of this doctrine.

The notion of Self-realisation first appeared on the Indian subcontinent, and there reached its clearest expression in the Vedânta, the philosophy of the Upanishads, the early period of which is dated to between 700 and 600 BC20 (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.33). As the notion of a higher or greater Self which might be Realised, the doctrine of Self-realisation was first given expression in the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad, when, in the words of , it suddenly came to view ‘out of a clear sky’ (Campbell 1962/1976, p.200).

Vedânta means the end of the (veda-anta). It is both the latter part of the Vedas and the ‘ultimate significance’ of those sacred scriptures (sruti) (Coomaraswamy 1977, p.4). The authors of the Upanishads have moved away from detailing with the intricacies of ritual and sacrifice, the worship and the , with which the Rig Veda is replete. The focus in the Upanishads is exclusively on the self and its liberation. As Dasgupta put it: ‘the whole quest is of the highest truth, and the true self of man is discovered as the greatest reality’ (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.33).

Noting the similarity to Platonic doctrines Dasgupta shows that the fundamental idea coursing through the early Upanishads ‘is that underlying the exterior world of change

20 The Upanishads are difficult to date. According to Radhakrishnan and Moore they definitely pre-date the Buddhist period, and their prose belongs to the eighth and seventh centuries B.C. (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.37). The most recent date I have seen for the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad is 500 B.C., a date that I believe current scholarship would find to be too recent (see for example Kak 1994; Kak 1997). But even if that were the case the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad certainly represents the origin of Self- realisation as a doctrine.

109 there is an unchangeable reality which is identical with that which underlies the essence in man’ (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.42). This unchanging Reality is Brahman, the Ground of Being. The Brahman and âtman doctrines pre-date the Upanishads. Even in the Rig Veda the word âtman signified both the ultimate essence of the universe and ‘the vital breath in man’ (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.45). In the Upanishads, however, it was made quite explicit that âtman = Brahman (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.45): the universal Self is the Ground of Being, and conversely, the Ground of Being is the innermost Self.

In all Hindu systems or darshana (meaning “viewpoints,” from dri “to view”) Self- realisation is bound up with the doctrine of liberation or mukti / , which Dasgupta describes as ‘the state of infiniteness’ attained when the Self is known (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.58). Freedom, in the Upanishads and in Yoga psychology, is a potentiality or an innate potential (“Traditional Psychology” in Coomaraswamy 1977, p.372). Although the empirical self can never be free, the universal or transcendental Self is always free. According to this doctrine, freedom or infiniteness ‘always exists as the Truth of our nature’ (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.58). Thus:

We are always emancipated and always free. We do not seem to be so … because we do not know the true nature of our self. Thus it is that the true knowledge of self does not lead to emancipation but is emancipation itself (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.58).

That the Self is always Realised and always free is a basic tenet of Advaita Vedânta often alluded to by Ramana Maharshi.

In the Katha Upanishad the Self is described in imagery that is also found in Plato’s Phaedrus which has been dated to between 427 and 347 BC (Plato 1973, p.30). The parable of the chariot is given in the Katha Upanishad as follows:

110 Know thou the Self as the lord of the chariot and the body as, verily, the chariot, know the intellect as the charioteer and the mind, as verily, the reins.

The senses, they say, are the horses; the objects of sense the paths (they range over); (the self) associated with the body, the senses and the mind - wise men declare - is the enjoyer.

He who has no understanding, whose mind is always unrestrained, his senses are out of control, as wicked horses are for a charioteer.

He, however, who has understanding, whose mind is always restrained, his senses are under control, as good horses are for a charioteer (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.623-4).

With some significant variation, Plato describes the nature of the “soul” in Phaedrus as follows:

Let us adopt this method, and compare the soul to a winged charioteer and his team acting together. Now all the horses and charioteers of the are good and come of good stock, but in other beings there is a mixture of good and bad. First of all we must make it plain that the ruling power in us men drives a pair of horses, and next that one of these horses is fine and good and of noble stock, and the other the opposite in every way. So in our case the task of the charioteer is a difficult and unpleasant business (Plato 1973, p.51-1).

Phaedrus describes a struggle or conflict between the good horse and the bad horse, reason and appetite (Plato 1973, p.61-3). This closely models the discussion of mental conflict in Book 4 of The Republic (Plato 1955/1987, p.206-18). In the Katha Upanishad no such struggle is described and none implied. The distinction here is not between good and bad, obedient and disobedient. Instead, the situation described is one in which either action is based on understanding or it is not. One who knows the true nature of the empirical self is free. By “knowledge” in this context is meant direct perception - , or jñâna - in which there is no distinction between the observer

111 and the observed, a type of knowledge Spinoza scholar Paul Wienpahl describes as affective as well as cognitive (Wienpahl 1978, p.214).

When there is understanding, the absence of avidyâ (ignorance), the mind is naturally restrained and the senses controlled. In Vedânta, it is only the Self or pure consciousness which can “take control” of the conditioned or empirical self. Neither reason nor appetite can do it. Any movement or action on the part of the individual self is a conditioned response. As Coomaraswamy has explained, the empirical self is an automaton, a creature of circumstances, whose behaviour can always be predicted given an adequate knowledge of past causes (“Vedânta And Western Tradition” in Coomaraswamy 1977, p.14). The empirical self is always reacting to the past; thus any attempt to change what we are, without the complete understanding that comes from direct perception, carries with it the same afflictions that are the problem. The answer to all of this, according to the Katha Upanishad, is “understanding”. What is meant by understanding in this context is left unstated, but the students or disciples of Vedânta for whom the Upanishad was written, would most likely have known that understanding means “seeing,” which involves ‘the nonseparation of knower, knowing, and known’ (Whicher 1998, p.300).

THE NATURE OF THE SELF

Chapple argues that the Self or âtman is 'the foundation and ending point for almost every system of Indian thought' (Chapple 1986, p.22). In the Upanishads âtman can mean:

[T]he body, the vital divine breath, awareness, the subject of all sensations and of everything, the independent active subject, the real self in and of Man, the self of the world, the subject of all spiritual actions as well as the subject of , and finally Brahman (Panikkar 1977/2001, p.697-8).

112

These are not contradictory definitions but various aspects of âtman. Erroneously, in my opinion, Zaehner writes of âtman that it originally referred to the body, or rather to "the trunk of the body, as opposed to the hands and feet and other members". He was quoting A. B. Keith's The Sâmkhya System (Calcutta: no date), which appears to be his only authority on this point (Zaehner 1957/1975, p.136). I doubt that âtman ever referred to an isolated part of the human body unless as an , the trunk being the essential core (relatively speaking) compared with the hands and feet. Zaehner also claims that âtman serves the purpose of "ego" (Zaehner 1957/1975, p.10), which I also believe is incorrect. As Max Müller explains, the âtman is 'an expression of nothing but the purest and highest subjectiveness … far more abstract than our Ego, - [It is] the Self of all things’ (Müller 1883/2002, p.172).

Behind all the gods of the , the authors of the Upanishads discovered the âtman or Self: 'Of that Self they predicated three things only, that it is, that it perceives, and that it enjoys eternal bliss’ (Müller 1883/2002, p.176), in other words it is sat-cit- ânanda. This Self behind all the gods Müller described as the objective Self. The authors of the Upanishads also discovered the âtman within the human being: 'behind the veil of the body, behind the senses, behind the mind, and behind our reason (in fact behind the mythology of the soul, which we often call psychology)' (Müller 1883/2002, p.176). This Self he termed the subjective Self and referred to it as, ‘the Looker-on, a subject independent of all personality’ (Müller 1883/2002, p.177). At the highest or most subtle, they observed, or conceived, ‘the oneness of the subjective with the objective Self' and recognised this as the underlying reality (Müller 1883/2002, p.177).

In Hindu metaphysics, the human constitution consists of the âtman, which is identical in nature to Brahman, veiled in a series of bodies or sheaths (kosa-s) of increasing density and opaqueness. The form of the human being consists of the Annamaya kosa, Prânamaya kosa, Manomaya kosa, Vijñânamaya kosa and the Ânandamaya kosa

113 (Baladeva 1912, p.30). Inside the physical body (annamaya kosa, from anna, meaning food) there is a more interior body consisting of breath (prâna). The physical body is known as the annamyaya body because it is fed on beings. This dense physical body, through which we hear, see, feel, taste and smell, is filled by the prâna. Inside the Prânamaya kosa is the Manomaya kosa, the , which fills the former and is more interior. Inside the mind body, or mind organ, is the Vijñânamaya kosa 'which consists of understanding', or buddhi. Filling this body, and interior to it, is the Ânandamaya kosa which consists of an abundance of bliss, ânanda (Baladeva 1912, p.30/9). Each kosa is a sheath, which both conceals and contains the body above or within itself. In each successive sheath or body the âtman is more densely covered, until in the physical body, the Annamaya kosa, it is very densely veiled indeed. The five kosas comprise the body of the âtman, which is the Self of this entity belonging to the phenomenal world. As Radhakrishnan put it: 'At the back of this whole structure is the Universal Consciousness, Âtman, which is our true being' (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.91). The âtman is the eternal element (Iturbe 2004, p.79).

114 So the âtman or universal Self, beyond the body and the mind, is – ƒ the purest subjectiveness ƒ universal and impersonal ƒ non-empirical ƒ transcendent ƒ innermost ƒ the Knower, the Watcher, the Seer, or the Looker-on ƒ behind the veil of the senses, the mind and the objective world ƒ that which never becomes anything ƒ consciousness itself ƒ sat-cit-ânanda - existence, consciousness, bliss ƒ the thing-in-itself ƒ not known by the senses but by the “purified intellect” or direct intuitive perception ƒ the Self underlying all reality, the oneness of the subjective and objective

In traditional sources and interpretations Brahman is - ƒ Intelligence: ‘All this is guided by intelligence [sarvam tat prajñâ-netram], is established in intelligence. The world is guided by intelligence. The support is intelligence. Brahmâ is intelligence [prajñânam Brahmâ]’ ( III, 3 in Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.523). Intelligence in this context must be distinguished from discursive reason. Radhakrishnan is inconsistent in his translations, and in an article in which he paraphrases a portion of this section of the Aitareya Upanishad, he writes – ‘All this is produced by Reason and rests in Reason, and Reason is Brahman’ (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.435). In my opinion there is little justification for translating prajñâ as reason, even Reason with a capital R ƒ Pure affirmative Being (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.449)

115 ƒ The Absolute, defined in one place by Radhakrishnan as ‘ … The completely independent reality’ (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.440). The Absolute is not a thing; it is, in German, unbedingt. ƒ Unknowable in its entirety ƒ Manifest as the world ƒ The causal substance of the finite world and, in the last analysis, the material cause (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.444/447) ƒ The prime mover: ‘the cause of the origin, the preservation and the reabsorption of the world’ (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.447) ƒ Not separate from the world, Brahman or the Absolute includes the finite (Radhakrishnan 1914 b, p.450)

Putting the two conceptions side by side we have Figure 5:

Figure 5. Comparative chart of âtman and Brahman doctrines

said of âtman said of Brahman Consciousness itself Intelligence

The purest subjectiveness Pure affirmative Being

Universal and impersonal The Absolute Non-empirical

Transcendent It remains completely independent although it pervades the universe

Innermost The cause of the origin, the preservation and the reabsorption of the world

The Watcher, the Seer, the Looker on, the The causal substance of the finite world, Knower and, in the last analysis, the material cause

That which never becomes anything sat-cit-ânanda - existence, consciousness, bliss

116 It can be known (not by the senses) only after a strict moral and intellectual discipline. The Highest Self underlying all reality, the unity of the subjective and objective, is not known by the senses but by the “purified intellect”, or direct intuitive perception Perceived behind nature and behind the Perceived behind the mythology of the veil of the body (within the sheaths or gods kosa-s) The thing-in-itself Unknowable in its entirety

There is something that is transcendent, transparent, independent, never becomes anything, and is consciousness itself. This is both within and without, underlying both the microcosm and the macrocosm. The difference between it, the âtman, and Brahman, the Absolute, is that the âtman is Brahman as discovered "within" oneself, as our innermost unsullied nature. There is the merest difference between the two because âtman shares the nature of Brahman.

ÂTMAN AS PURE CONSCIOUSNESS

Both Brahman and âtman are referred to as Pure Consciousness. Pure consciousness is contentless consciousness. It might also be regarded as pure potential, as indicated by the fact that Brahman or the Absolute is the cause of the creation, preservation and destruction (re-absorption) of the world. So although pure consciousness might be regarded as sacred, ineffable and so on as is Brahman, God, or the Absolute, it should not be conceived as "outside" or "above" in the way in which the transcendent God is treated in the Abrahamic traditions. Being contentless, pure consciousness can be approached or realised by the negation of all content, as is the practice in some traditions of Yoga meditation. The Upanishads teach that God-realisation or Self-

117 realisation is not by means of sense perception, imagination, or thought: thought fails to achieve realisation, or even adequately describe the faculty (Ranade 1926/1986, p.249). That is one reason why (not this, not this), the path of negation, is fundamental to yogic practice and to Vedânta.

The way of negation has been re-interpreted recently by Robert K. Forman and others working in the field of consciousness studies, exploring the nature of the Pure Consciousness . The existence of any kind of pure consciousness, and especially of our potential to experience it, has been subjected to a thoroughgoing critique since the publication of Steven Katz's article, "Language, Epistemology and Mysticism" in 1978 (cited in Forman 1990, p.9). Katz's basic argument, his 'single epistemological assumption', is that there are no unmediated experiences. Conceptual filters process all experience, therefore, the mystical experience, 'as well as the form in which it is reported is shaped by concepts which the mystic brings to, and which shape, his experience' (cited in Forman 1990, p.10). Katz applies the general constructivist model to mysticism (Forman 1990, p.29), without, it seems, questioning its applicability. His approach seems to be based on an incorrect assumption about both mystical experience and pure consciousness, neither of which are products of thought. Forman argues that distinction must be made between mystical experience and its subsequent description (a distinction not lost on Katz). Thought, of course, is always conditioned: it can even be conditioned by the Unconditioned. This does not, however, mean that unmediated unconditioned experience is not possible; only that it is not available to thought, which is the argument of J. Krishnamurti among others.

Katz understands Yoga to be a re-conditioning of consciousness, not a de-conditioning (Forman 1990, p.12). To some extent this is true. Certain disciplines are undertaken, and insights gained, which gradually weaken the hold of the five afflictions which shape ordinary human consciousness - ignorance (avidyâ), I-am-ness (asmitâ), attractions and repulsions towards objects (raga, and dvesa) and the clinging to life and

118 fear of death (abhinivesa). Various disciplines predispose the practitioner to act in ways that will neither burden the consciousness with further attachments nor repeat entrenched negative behaviour . This does indeed re-condition the mind. But neither this re-conditioning, nor the particular content of consciousness arrived at, represent the experience of pure consciousness. The primary epistemological assumption of Forman’s non-constructivist view of mystical experience is that pure consciousness is contentless. Content is always conditioned, always partial, always a response of memory, always limited; but it is only when all content is set aside, transcended or negated that pure consciousness shines forth. That is the basic teaching of Vedânta and of Patañjali Yoga.

Research into the Pure Consciousness Event (PCE), defined as 'wakeful contentless consciousness', has left Forman in no doubt that the experience is a fairly uniform one among meditators and mystics (Forman 1990, p.21). The PCE has been likened to 'just being present' (Forman 1990, p.25). The Buddhist notion of bare attention seems to describe it well. An important distinction is made between the PCE and visionary experience, which does have content. Forman likens the PCE to the 'state of being enraptured', which for Meister Eckhart was a 'nonintentional event' (Forman 1990, p.26).

Forman proposes a new model for mysticism, largely in response to Katz’s constructivist critique. In this model mystical experience is not the product of culture, expectation or representation but of undoing, "forgetting", letting go, unlearning and negation. The notion of forgetting is one that arises in Eckhart and in . It denotes a 'forgetting of all creatures', of all desires and of all compulsions (Forman 1990, p.30). He quotes Eckhart to say: 'To achieve an interior act, a man must collect all his powers as if into a corner of his soul … hiding away from all images and forms … Here, he must come to a forgetting and an unknowing' (cited in Forman 1990, p.31 emphases Forman's). This involves 'a retreat from thought' and from

119 'conceptual forms' (Forman 1990, p.31). Forman also quotes 's Theravâdin prescription for the attainment of meditation without conceptualisation. It begins with the transcendence of all conceptualisation of form and of sense data (Forman 1990, p.33). By forgetting and transcendence is meant the intentional setting aside, the suspension, of thought and conceptualisation. The meditative state then either comes upon the meditator or it does not, nothing can be done to force the matter. Descriptions of the event after the fact will be culturally constructed but, in Forman’s view, the experience is not.

In the eight-limbed system outlined by Patañjali, dharana, dhyâna, and samâdhi (the three phases or stages of concentration, contemplation, and union) follow the first five limbs which consist of various observances, restraints, withdrawal of the senses, breathing exercises and postures, all designed to render the mind one-pointed yet sensitive and still. The state of samâdhi is said to be the culmination of the practice and it is often described as ecstasy (akin to Eckhart's "rapture"). Coomaraswamy defines the culmination of Yoga, the state of samâdhi, as, ‘to put together, mend, heal, literally and etymologically “synthesis”’ 21 (“Traditional Psychology” in Coomaraswamy 1977, p.349). Recent commentators on the Yoga Sûtras have described samâdhi as “coherent” mental activity, ‘a coherent, extremely orderly form of awareness’, focused and unified (following a lead from Vyâsa Pflueger 1998, p.59/75 n.). This is similar in tone to Bohm's comparison of "attention" to the focussed power of a laser beam, and his suggestion that attention can achieve things beyond the power of ordinary thought. Not being the product of thought, however, meditative concentration or attention is more like a state of mental inactivity in the sense described above. Thus, it is not we, or thought, which puts together, mends and heals, but consciousness without content, the innermost Self, that does so. Following the required disciplines and character

21 Its opposite is viådha, ‘to divide up, disintegrate’ (“Traditional Psychology” in Coomaraswamy 1977, p.349).

120 development, there is available to us a state of consciousness, or state of being, which has been described as the Knower, the Looker-on, Intelligence and consciousness itself, behind the veil of the senses and beyond thought. It is this state which mends, heals, and puts together what thought fragments and tears apart.

THE DEEP ECOLOGY VERSION OF SELF-REALISATION

Having briefly recounted the âtman doctrine and notions of Self-realisation and liberation as found in the Upanishads,22 it is now possible to outline the Deep Ecology approach, with its frequent recourse to these tenets.

In my view, Eric Katz gave an accurate account of the place of Self-realisation in Deep Ecology, and an accurate account of the Deep Ecology use of the same, when he wrote:

The connection between identification, expansion of the self, and Self- realization cannot be overemphasized - it is the point around which all the ideas of Deep Ecology coalesce. By itself, Self-realization means the process by which a being “realizes inherent potentialities” within itself and its situation. But if we seriously identify with other living beings, we engage in the process of expanding our narrow egoistic “self” into a larger “Self” that encompasses all those other beings with which we experience a commonality of interests … true Self-realization means participating in the developing potentialities, the Self-realization, of all other beings (Katz 2000, p.27).

22 I might just note that while nondualistic interpretations of the Vedânta are dominant in the West, and in India, other interpretations exist. Advaita or nondual Vedânta exists alongside dualistic and quasi- dualist interpretations. Professor R.C. Zaehner points out that in the Upanishads will be found every possible nuance between the extreme pluralist view and the wholly monistic view (Zaehner 1938/1972, p.xii). Each school of thought interprets the same Upanishadic passages as confirming its own doctrines (Ranade 1926/1986, p.201).

121 That Self-realisation is a key notion of Deep Ecology, a central idea around which much of the literature revolves, is difficult to deny given that every author and every critic associated with the Deep Ecology approach has either written on the subject, as have Naess, Mathews, Fox, Sylvan, Sessions, and Devall; or simply referred to it as indicative of the Deep Ecology approach.

Therefore it seems to be excessively pedantic of Sessions, if not utterly confusing, to try to maintain the position that ‘the Self-Realization or thesis is not an identifying characteristic of the Deep Ecology movement’. Sessions maintains that the norm of Self-realisation is merely a part of Naess’s ‘systematisation known as Ecosophy T, and the basis of Fox’s Transpersonal Ecology’ (Sessions 1995, p.190). That may be true, if the word "merely" is removed, but in Fox’s view Self-realisation not only forms the core of Naess’s work on Deep Ecology, it also forms the core of Devall’s and Sessions’s work severally and jointly, in substance if not in letter (Fox 1990/1995, p.77). It is also true that in these remarks Sessions correctly distinguishes the Deep Ecology movement from various ecosophies or eco-philosophies which maintain the notion of Self-realisation as their ultimate norm or central thesis. As we have seen, the Deep Ecology movement comprises a diverse range of people who can relate to the eight-point platform. The eight-point platform which is central to the movement can be derived from a number of ultimate norms - religious, spiritual, and secular - Self- realisation being but one. To the casual and even not-so-casual observer, however, Self- realisation is most certainly an identifying characteristic of the Deep Ecology approach.

Naess admits that he gives Self-realisation ‘an expanded meaning’:

in part motivated by the belief that maturity in humans can be measured along a scale from selfishness to an increased realization of Self, that is, by broadening and deepening the self, rather than being measured by degrees of dutiful altruism (Naess 1995 a, p.80/2).

122 Naess then goes on to suggest that the self is made more comprehensive, less egoistic, and by implication more healthy, ‘by broadening and deepening the self’, to take in nature (Naess 1995 a, p.80). This is what he means by an expansion of meaning on the notion as it is encountered in modern Western psychology. However this is not the original notion of Self-realisation, nor is Naess’s conception of it an expansion of the original meaning but in some respects a deviation from it.

Sylvan has been quoted as saying that the goal of self realisation:

emerges direct from the humanistic Enlightenment; it is linked to the modern celebration of the individual human, freed from service to higher demands, and also typically from ecological constraints (in Katz 2000, p.35).

This does not appear to be true of Self-realisation in the philosophy of the Upanishads, although it may be true of self-actualisation. Vedânta does not celebrate the individual human, and does not conceive of freedom as a freedom from ‘service to higher demands’. It seems that within the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, rightly or wrongly, there has been some attempt to abstract Self-realisation from its religio- philosophical foundation.23 What Katz and probably most theorists in the Deep Ecology movement mean by Self-realisation, is a ‘humanistic Enlightenment’ version of what was originally a decidedly other-worldly notion. Self-realisation may have reached the Deep Ecology movement through a sanitised or Westernised version of Buddhism,24 but in its original conception, it was and is inseparable from a metaphysic that is either panentheistic, theistic, or radically nondualist and impersonal.

23 A point also made by Knut A. Jacobsen in ‘Bhagavadgîta, Ecosophy T, and Deep Ecology’ (Jacobsen 1996, p.231). 24 On one occasion, tracing the roots of the modern ecocentric worldview, Sessions listed among the Eastern influences only Taoism, and ‘the Buddhism of and Gary Snyder’ (Sessions 1994, p.210). I doubt this was meant to be an exhaustive list, in an essay concerned with Deep Ecology as a worldview, and not the roots of Deep Ecology; but I think it is not without significance that

123 In his conception, Naess combines psychological notions of Self-realisation with the notion of autopoiesis as it is found in some versions of general systems theory, Gaia theory, and autopoietic intrinsic value theory. Eckersley describes autopoietic intrinsic value theory as that which attributes intrinsic value to all “self-producing” or “self- renewing” entities, recognising ‘the value of all process-structures that continuously strive to produce and sustain their own organizational activity and structure’ (Eckersley 1992, p.61). Thus, the value of species, ecosystems, and the earth itself is recognised, along with individual organisms. Mathews defines a “self” in the systems theoretic sense, as a system that ‘is self-maintaining or self-realizing, and accordingly possessed of conatus’ (Mathews 1995b, p.143). In general systems theory, the technical definition of a natural system is, ‘an open system in a steady state’, one that maintains its own position or maintains itself (Laszlo 1972, p.37). Again, the implication is that of a “self” organising or maintaining itself. Natural systems are said to be open in that they are engaged in a ‘constant intake and output of energies, substances, and information’ (Laszlo 1972, p.40). At the same time, ‘they undergo a slow but inevitable exchange of all their parts’, by which process they manage to remain what they are (Laszlo 1972, p.40). Clearly, organisms behave as if they want to be what they are. Hence, they are said to be conative.

In several versions of Deep Ecology, including that of Naess, the cosmos itself is given the status of selfhood as a natural system that is self-maintaining. Laszlo points out that natural systems are also self-creative, that is, engaged in processes that are not entirely preprogrammed. This type of change, he says, is that which is found in phylogenesis, defined as:

“the creative advance” of nature into novelty … the trailblazing self- transformation of entire species and populations of organisms … the

Sessions sometimes restricted the influence of Buddhism (and Indian thought) to two contemporary Western exponents.

124 ability of systems to generate the very information which codes their structure and behavior (Laszlo 1972, p.47).

So general systems theory speaks of the self-maintenance, the self-regulation, and the self-creativity of natural systems, but what of self-realisation? The usual term in both systems theory and psychology is “self-actualisation,” or less commonly “self- fulfilment,” regarded by Laszlo as ‘the end of human purposeful behavior’. It is, he says, ‘the actualization of potentials inherent in all of us. It is the of what can be, traced in actuality’ (Laszlo 1972, p.109). We have already noted that for Maslow and other psychologists, the self-actualised individual possesses a sense of self that extends beyond the ‘egoic, biographic, or personal sense of self’ (quoted in Bragg 1996, p.95). It would be consistent with both Upanishadic and Platonic philosophy to suggest that Self-realisation is the actualisation of inherent potentials, because in their view the potential for Self-realisation is innate. But this still leaves unresolved significant differences between the Upanishadic conception of the Self that is to be realised and both the self of general systems theory and the Self of Deep Ecology. It also leaves open to question whether Self-realisation, abstracted from its metaphysical foundations, is able to stand up to the work set out for it in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement.

Naess’s vision of Self-realisation is of ‘Self-realisation through identification’, and ‘connecting the individual’s unfolding to that of the whole planet’ (Naess 1989, p.163). This is based on the assumption that the earth is a self-maintaining system that possesses conatus and the potential for self-actualisation. We could not really identify ourselves with something that does not possess selfhood; otherwise we would be introducing a radical dualism of we who possess selfhood and the planet which does not. Or else we would be denying selfhood to ourselves. Mathews points out that in order to be coherent, the doctrine of Self-realisation as it stands in Deep Ecology must presuppose a self-realising cosmos, a universe ‘possessed of its own conatus’ and

125 ‘immeasurable intrinsic value’ (Mathews 1995b, p.145-7). Alternatively, the universe with which we seek to identify might be a lifeless mechanical object with an underlying ‘of random flux, or even self-erosion’, rather than a subject with the will to maintain itself and realise its full potential (Mathews 1995b, p.147).

In order for our identification with the cosmos to make sense the cosmos must, like us, be a self. This has laid Deep Ecology open to charges of anthropocentrism, as will be seen shortly. But I would first like to establish that Naess’s definition of “self- realization” as the realisation of inherent potentialities (Naess 1995 b, p.229) conforms closely to the general systems and psychological notion of self-actualisation, keeping in mind that these potentialities are “inherent” but not entirely preprogrammed. Although there is clearly the possibility for it to do so, however, this notion of Self-realisation does not necessarily admit the primacy of the universal Self, regarded as a divine principle in the Hindu systems from which it derives. In Naess’s thought there is a conflation of Western psychological norms of self-actualisation with the Hindu doctrine of Self-realisation (as evident in Naess 1985a). The union, it seems to me, is an imperfect one as there remain significant contradictions between the two.

The only thing the aspirant is enjoined to identify with in the Yoga system or in the Vedânta is the universal Self or âtman. As Loy points out in his book on nonduality, quoting : ‘The knowledge of the Self leads to the identification of oneself with others as clearly as one identifies oneself with one’s body’ (Pañca-pâdika 6:285 cited in Loy 1988, p.296). It is not said that identification with others leads to knowledge of the Self, rather that knowledge of the Self leads to identification. The word “realisation” in Hindu approaches refers to the realisation of one’s true nature as the universal Self, rather than the individual self of name and form with which one has long identified. Treatment of the Self in Hindu metaphysics is specific and precise; by contrast, Naess and other Deep Ecology theorists invoke the âtman doctrine without going into much detail.

126 Naess distinguishes between self-realisation and Self-realisation by pointing out: ‘This last kind of concept is known in the history of philosophy under various names: “the universal self”, “the absolute”, “the âtman”, etc.’ (Naess 1989, p.85). In Naess’s system, the capital S carries a similar implication of oneness. He suggests, however, that:

… the difference in content is vast. Ecosophy T is a total view belonging to a vastly different cultural tradition. The S insinuates that if the widening and deepening of the self goes on ad infinitum the selves will realise themselves by realising the same, whatever this is. Because the infinite level of Self-realisation only makes sense metaphysically, the capital S should be used sparingly. At any level of realisation of potentials, the individual egos remain separate. They do not dissolve like individual drops in the ocean. Our care continues ultimately to concern the individuals, not any collectivity. But the individual is not, and will not be isolatable, whatever exists has a gestalt character (Naess 1989, p.195).

According to Naess, then, the capital S in Self should be used sparingly because it ‘only makes sense metaphysically’. By this I take it that he means “metaphysically” as distinct from psychologically or empirically. His meaning is not clear because, as Jacobsen points out, Naess also suggests quite misleadingly, I believe, that Self- realisation in the Bhagavad Gîtâ is not a mystical or meditational state (Jacobsen 1996, p.231). If by this Naess means only that Self-realisation does not entail or necessarily result in a withdrawal from the world, then I would agree. But he seems not to take heed of the fact that Self-realisation in the Gîtâ is dependent upon, or at the very least coextensive with, a form of awareness and understanding which is thoroughly mystical and meditational (in the senses alluded to in foregoing sections). In traditional systems, Self-realisation implies seeing through the of separateness, and seeing the limitations of the empirical self with which we normally identify. This seeing is a meditational state, not a purely conceptual or intellectual one. Looking more closely at

127 what the meditational state might be, it seems clear that it involves the non-separation of the knower and the known, a state of nonduality.

Jacobsen points out in his criticism of Naess’s interpretation of verse 6:29 of the Bhagavad Gîtâ, a verse to be discussed shortly, that Naess has:

removed his interpretation to a great degree from the Hindu religious context. The verse is freed from any connection to Hindu metaphysics and comes closer to the modern political idea of empathy and solidarity with all humans, though expanded to include all non-human living beings as well (Jacobsen 1996, p.231).

I agree with Jacobsen's assessment. Naess further retreats from tradition by saying that Self-realisation makes sense metaphysically, but it should not be taken to entail the dissolution of individuality in any form of collectivity. Actually, most metaphysical treatments of Self-realisation, from the Upanishads to the Bhagavad Gîtâ, do regard Self-realisation as entailing the dissolution or transcendence of the individual self, and a subsequent (or coeval) realisation of the universal Self.

This attempt to maintain the sense of self in the ordinary sense, amidst all this talk of Self-realisation, may or may not do justice to Hindu âtman doctrines, but it has certainly not prevented ecofeminists and others turning against this aspect of the Deep Ecology approach. As Charlene Spretnak once remarked:

ecofeminists are wary of assumptions that may lie embedded in the concept of the “ecological self” which … refers to the aspect of one’s being that is continuous with the large Self (that is, the unitive dimension of being) rather than the individual self. It is sometimes described by Naess’s colleagues in ways that could be interpreted to result in the obliterating of all particularity, a worrisome notion to the sex that has been socialized in patriarchal culture to sacrifice their own self- definition to the needs of husbands and children (Spretnak 1994, p.185).

128 In my view then, not only has Deep Ecology failed to obviate feminist and postmodernist fears concerning the doctrine of Self-realisation, it has at times misrepresented the original doctrine.

129 FREEDOM NOT ATTACHMENT IS THE WAY OF YOGA

In ‘Identification as a Source of Deep Ecological Attitudes’ Naess calls on chapter 6 verse 29 of the Bhagavad Gîtâ to clarify what he means by Self-realisation. This verse reads: “He whose self is harmonized by yoga seeth the Self abiding in all beings and all beings in Self; everywhere he sees the same” (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.125).

Naess goes on to explain:

Through identification, higher level unity is experienced; from identifying with “one’s nearest”, higher unities are created through circles of friends, local communities, tribes, compatriots, races, humanity, life, and, ultimately, as articulated by religious and philosophic leaders, unity with the supreme whole, the “world” in a broader and deeper sense than the usual ... (Naess 1985a, p.263).

As I read it, this explanation which Naess appends to the quotation from the Gîtâ does not fit the text. Aside from the fact that the whole of the Gîtâ is taken up with various discourses on detachment, the passage in question makes no mention of identification, nor does it say that by identifying more widely we eventually come to see the Self in everything. What it says is that the person whose self is harmonised by Yoga sees the Self in all beings, or, put the other way around, the person who sees the Self is harmonised. The word harmony here could mean spiritual integration: an integration of the embodied and the universal Self.

There are two senses in which the self might be harmonised by Yoga in the tradition of the Bhagavad Gîtâ. The individual self or jîva might be integrated as the result of the practice of Yoga, or, the individual self might be harmonised or integrated as the result of union with the universal Self. As Ian Whicher has pointed out: ‘Yoga can refer to both the method that “joins” and the “harnessed” state’ (Whicher 1998, p.27). The word

130 yoga, as often pointed out, comes from yuj meaning to yoke or to join.25 Thus, when the individual self is yoked or joined to the universal Self, it is integrated or harmonised.

Equally, there are two senses in which the word “same” might be taken, where it says that he whose self is harmonised by Yoga sees the same everywhere. In one meaning, the harmonised individual or the adept yogin sees the same thing everywhere, that is, sees the universal Self in everything. In another meaning, the adept sees in the same way at all times and in every situation. This is suggested by the fact that the Gîtâ points out in chapter 5 verse 18/19, that as the result of seeing the Self in all, and of seeing always with equanimity:

Sages see with an equal eye, a learned and humble brâhmin, a cow, an elephant, or even a dog, or an outcaste.

Even here on earth the created world is overcome by those whose mind is established in equality. God is flawless and the same in all. Therefore are these persons established in God (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.121).

Other translations do not use the word “God” to render Brahman into English, “the eternal” is often employed instead (for instance Bhagavad Gîta 1905/1979, p.102/3). The ground of being or the Absolute would do as well. (The word outcaste, or pariah, in Sanskrit literally means dog-eater, proving once again that ancient texts need a little updating before they can be made acceptable to modern sensibilities. This updating, however, should not distort their doctrines.)

The Yoga expounded in the Gîtâ is clearly not one of identifying with family, friends, the human race, every living being and so on, marvellous as such identification may in itself be. The process of Yoga is one of detaching from all identification and refining

25 It might also derive from yuja, meaning “concentration” (Dasgupta 1930, p.45; Whicher 1998, p.30).

131 the instrument of perception so that it is able to see that most subtle entity, the Self, which though it may well be in everything is too fine to be picked up by our gross perceptual apparatus. A wide and deep sense of oneness is likely to result, but identification is most certainly not the way of Yoga generally.26 Detachment should never imply coldness or distance when used to translate the Sanskrit vairâgya, which also means dispassion and desirelessness. This is said to be one of the indispensable tools on the path to spiritual integration and involves a dispassion towards "me and mine" rather than a lack of empathy with other living creatures.

The question of identification in the Yoga system, and in Vedânta, is mainly restricted to the understanding of misidentification: identifying with mind and matter, with the empirical self, rather than with pure consciousness or âtman. The only sense of an expanding identity in the Yoga Sûtras is given by Whicher as that which takes place in meditative states, resulting in:

an ever-increasing sense of I or self, a continuously expanding sense of self-identity. This expanding sense of identity, which incorporates the levels of person/individual and cosmic (trans-egoic/individual) being, arises due to the finer … or insights … of the yogin that disclose the nature of the objects experienced … (Whicher 1998, p.246).

On the surface, the above might appear to be similar if not identical to Naess’s depiction of the expanded identification of the ecological self, but Whicher speaks of an identification with the trans-egoic or universal Self, resulting from understanding, seeing, or insight, rather than from identification with wider and wider categories of being.

26 The closest thing to “the way of identification” in the Yoga tradition would perhaps be yoga in which perfect union is sought with God - the object of devotion - by identifying every act performed, every experience undergone, every event and every perception, as God and for God.

132 The Bhagavad Gîtâ, which Naess uses to support his theory of Self-realisation, is a paean to nonattachment. As it says in chapter 18 verse 49:

He whose understanding is unattached everywhere, who has subdued his self and from whom desire has fled - he comes through renunciation to the supreme state transcending all work (in Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.161).

In another translation:

He whose understanding is unattached everywhere, who is self- subjugated, devoid of desires, he, by renunciation, attains the supreme , consisting in freedom from action (Swami translation in Yutang 1944/1954, p.103).

Whatever the translation, nonattachment and freedom from desire are the keynote of this as so many others verses of the Gîtâ. While Naess is aware that the capital S traditionally denotes the âtman or universal Self, he strongly emphasises his interpretation that while we may all be ‘drops in the stream of life’ as he put it, the drop is never ‘lost in the stream’. ‘Here is a difficult ridge to walk’, writes Naess: ‘To the left we have the ocean of organic and mystic views, to the right the abyss of atomic ’ (Naess 1989, p.165). Naess tries to negotiate a , but in the process, appears to misinterpret one of his favourite texts.

Of further concern is the possibility that definitions of Self-realisation and ecological consciousness commonly employed in Deep Ecology, such as ‘the totality of our identifications’, might be taken to imply that the totality (the Self) is made up of all the parts (the selves) added together. In contrast, what seems to be the case in the original tradition is that the whole, the Self, is both immanent in and wholly other than its various manifestations. So it is not just a matter of identifying with various parts of

133 nature, and when that identification has taken in all of the parts of nature, if that were possible, Self-realisation would result. Rather, the Self is realised (seen directly) and then the whole of nature is “identified with” as a result.

The difference noted above not only concerns what comes first, there is a difference in kind as well. For example, Sessions has used the phrase “personal self-realization”:

Following the insights of Gandhi and Spinoza, human individuals attain personal self-realization and psychological-emotional maturity when they progress from an identification with narrow ego, through identification of their “self” with nonhuman individuals, species, ecosystems, and with the ecosphere itself (Sessions 1994, p.211).

In traditional systems, Hindu as well as Buddhist, the notion of ‘personal self- realization’ would be an oxymoron. Realisation is always of the fact that one is not the personal self (Buddhism and proffer different reasons for this, but both maintain the position). A typical elucidation can be found in the Vedantic text, Advaita Bodha Deepika, The Lamp of Nondual Wisdom:

In the body appears a phantom, the “I” … and it is called [the empirical self]. This Jiva always outward bent, taking the world to be real and himself to be the doer and experiencer of pleasures and pains, desirous of this and that, undiscriminating, not once remembering his true nature, nor enquiring “Who am I?”, “What is this world?” …. Such forgetfulness of the Self is ignorance (avidyâ) (Unattributed 1979, p.7).

Here as always the personal self, the jîva, is contrasted with the universal Self. Mistaking one for the other, or identifying oneself as the individual rather than the universal Self, is regarded in Yoga and in Vedânta as the congenital ignorance that is the unenlightened human condition (avidyâ).

CAPITAL “R” REALISATION

134

Thus far, in this dissertation, and in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, the emphasis has been on the distinction between a lower case s self, the empirical self, and the universal or transcendental Self written with an upper case S. Something must now be said about the word realisation, which in English translations of Hindu and Buddhist texts is often given a capitalised R.27 The word realisation in Vedânta means knowing directly or actually knowing, rather than merely believing or thinking. It is closely related to the Platonic notion of direct intuitive perception and recollection.28

Self-realisation means seeing for oneself the Self that was always present but which hitherto was not noticed. It entails seeing the empirical self for the limited and conditioned entity that it is, and directly seeing the universal, eternal or transcendental Self that is pure consciousness, unconditioned, and infinite: the âtman that is Brahman. In Buddhist terms it means seeing the “emptiness” of things. Realisation is frequently contrasted with knowledge. This is partly the subject of the Advaita Bodha Deepika, which teaches that the nondual Self is veiled by phenomenal existence, or existence in its dualistic aspect, and that this so-called illusion is dispelled principally by ‘direct knowledge’ gained by reflection.

In the following passage, Ramana Maharshi gives a pointed description of what is meant by realisation and the via negativa, which in Advaita Vedânta is the principal path to it:

What is there to realise? The real is as it is, ever. How to real-ise it? All that is required is this. We have real-ised the unreal i.e., regarded as real what is unreal. We have to give up this attitude. That is all that is

27 Sanskrit does not have capital letters; the meaning of words like âtman are given by the context only. I use Self-realisation throughout. 28 For the near-identity of Platonic and Indian conceptions of recollection see Recollection Indian and Platonic (Coomaraswamy 1944).

135 required for us to attain jñâna. We are not creating anything new or achieving something which we did not have before. The illustration given in books is this. We dig a well and create a huge pit. The akasa [space] in the pit or well has not been created by us. We have just removed the earth which was filling the akasa there. … (Ramana Maharshi 1968/77, p.88).

IN CONCLUSION

While the foregoing has been critical of the Deep Ecology interpretation of Self- realisation, I do not mean to imply that the Bhagavad Gîtâ and the Upanishads should not be studied for ecological insights, or that Naess has not obtained useful insights from Hindu and Buddhist doctrines. I only suggest that Deep Ecology has not inquired deeply into the metaphysic of these religio-philosophies. Perhaps this is because, as Mathews has pointed out, it has not been the practice of Deep Ecology to undertake a thoroughgoing justification for its metaphysic of interconnectedness (Mathews 1994, p.148). Instead, Deep Ecology appears to have skimmed the surface of Eastern and Western metaphysical traditions and abstracted from them what seemed to resonate with an ecological sensibility, at times creatively reinterpreting them (Jacobsen 1996, p.219). As a result, the literature is punctuated by statements similar to one made by Taylor who refers to the perennial philosophy simply, and I believe inadequately, as:

a variety of alternative, nature-beneficent ideals scattered globally and found especially in the world’s surviving indigenous peoples, religions originating in the Far East, and among Jewish, Christian, and Muslim contemplative mystics (Taylor 2000, p.271).

This statement gives nature-beneficent ideals more weight than they might have carried in their parent traditions, leaving the tenets in question unspecified. The following chapter attempts to redress this evident tendency towards generalisation.

136

Chapter 3 Perennial Philosophy and its Association with Deep Ecology

Philosophers and historians including Ananda Coomaraswamy, Huston Smith, Frithjof Schuon, and Aldous Huxley have discerned what they regard as a continuous stream of mainly nondualistic metaphysics running throughout philosophic writings in all epochs, and embedded in all the major religions in the form of what are sometimes described as “esoteric” doctrines. A principal argument of theirs is that there exists a perennial philosophy which has persisted from generation to generation, and will endure ‘long after ephemeral philosophical fads and fashions come and go’ (Schmitt 1966, p.505).

In his anthology The Perennial Philosophy (1947), Huxley mentioned that the phrase was coined by Leibniz (around 1714), but Schmitt established that Leibniz borrowed the term from the Bishop of Crete (1538) , whose book De perenni philosophia (1540), was published four times before the end of the sixteenth century (Schmitt 1966, p.506/15). Steuco was drawing upon a tradition that was already well established by the sixteenth century; so although he may have coined the phrase, the metaphysic, as Huxley pointed out, appears “always” to have existed.

Typically for his generation, the Renaissance Platonist believed that while the writings of Plato represented the basis of true philosophy, they were the culmination of a long development from more ancient times. For Ficino, the philosophy of the ancients was a “learned religion,” a sacred philosophy which achieved its apotheosis in Plato. A more appropriate descriptive term might be religio-philosophy. For the Platonist the ultimate goal of philosophy is the direct perception of God and union with Him, and so, in Platonic thought, ‘there is no real distinction between philosophy and religion’ (Schmitt 1966, p.519). Not all religious philosophers refer to

137 the Absolute as God, but the sentiment is the same across various descriptive terms, be it Brahman or the One. The provenance of this , according to Ficino, is as follows:

138 In those things which pertain to theology the six great theologians of former times concur. Of whom the first is said to have been Zoroaster, head of the magi; the second is Hermes Trismegistus, originator of the priests of Egypt. Orpheus succeeded Hermes. Aglaophemus29 was initiated to the sacred things of Orpheus. Pythagoras succeeded Aglaophemus in theology. To Pythagoras succeeded Plato, who in his writings encompassed those men’s universal wisdom, added to it, and elucidated it (from Ficino’s Opera: Basel, 1576 quoted in Schmitt 1966, p.508).

Schmitt lists Plutarch, Iamblichus, Diogenes Laertius, Augustine, Michael Psellus, and Georgius Gemistus Pletho among those who classify Plato and his precursors as above. To this list might be added , Henry More, and each of whom are on record as having believed much the same as Ficino and other compilers of such lists in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. In The Immortality of the Soul, More refers to Egypt as the ancient muse of all the ‘hidden Sciences’ which, he says, were known to the Brahmins of India, and the Magi of Babylon and Persia. Alongside Moses, believed by More to be the greatest philosopher who ever lived, he placed Zoroaster, Pythagoras, Plato, Empedocles, Euclid, Plotinus, Iamblichus, and Proclus (among others) as bearers and purveyors of (in Dobbs 1975/1983, p.106). Steuco followed the same scheme, though placing a greater emphasis on Hermes Trismegistus than did Ficino (Schmitt 1966, p.521).

PLATONISM

29 Schmitt notes, and I shall do likewise, that Aglaophemus is an obscure figure, with few mentions even in ancient writings. As indicated by Ficino, he is supposed to have passed the Orphic teachings on to Pythagoras. I might add that the word theology, in this context, should not be taken to mean knowledge of Church dogma concerning the nature of God, but a direct intuitive perception of divine wisdom. If not for the negative connotations with which the term has recently been loaded, theosophia would be the more apt term.

139 The entry on Perennial Philosophy in the Dictionary of the History of Ideas suggests that the characteristic doctrines of Platonic thought ‘point to Platonism as the tradition most adequate for a Perennial Philosophy’. These doctrines pertain to: (1) the existence of a Unity underlying the world of appearances; (2) the view that the aim of philosophy is the contemplation or knowledge of the world of universals, forms, or ideas; (3) the notion that philosophy is the “handmaiden of religion”; and 4) the general orientation towards the eternal (Loemker 1973, p.458/9). So far as ecophilosophy is concerned, Platonic thought has a number of negative features, among them that, allegedly, it is impractical and even dangerous in the context of eco-politics. In what follows, I would like to question some of the assumptions behind this view.

The Penguin Classics edition of The Laws characterises Plato as ‘probably the greatest and most influential political thinker of all time’ (Plato 1975). In The Open Society and Its Enemies Karl Popper argues the case for Plato as a politician corrupted by power, his totalitarian political theory based on spiritual authority (Popper 1945/1952). In Popper’s view, Plato’s state amounts to a dictatorship of the (very few) Enlightened. On the other hand, Platonists such as Ammonius Saccas, Plotinus and Iamblichus seemed to regard Plato primarily as a philosopher whose chief concern was the intelligible (but invisible) world, and the spiritual intuition that might apprehend it. Whether, in life, Plato was a manipulative politician would be difficult if not impossible to determine, but I argue that his works readily admit a religio-philosophical reading, and that it is in the context of self-transformation that Plato has much to contribute to ecophilosophy.

Even when dealing with matters such as justice Plato frequently crosses the line over to religio-philosophical speculation. He wrote, for example, that the real concern of justice:

is not with external actions, but with a man’s inward self, his true concern and interest. The just man will not allow the three elements

140 which make up his inward self to trespass on each other’s functions, but, by keeping all three in tune … will, in the truest sense, set his house to rights, attain self-mastery and order, and live on good terms with himself. When he has … so become fully one instead of many, he will be ready for action of any kind, whether it concerns his personal or financial welfare, whether it is political or private; and he will reckon and call any of these actions just and honourable if it contributes to and helps to maintain this disposition of mind, and will call the knowledge which controls such action wisdom. Similarly, he will call unjust any action destructive of this disposition, and the opinions which control such action ignorance (Plato 1955/1987, p.221).

The emphasis in the above is on the 'disposition of mind' and the 'inward self'; Plato argues that when these are in order, outward actions, be they financial, political or private, will also be in order. Both traditional and contemporary spiritual literature abounds with similar advice to set our own ‘house to rights’. When describing Buddhist politics William Ophuls remarked that:

[A Buddhist] must always remember that his primary duty is to bring about benign changes in himself; indeed, for a Buddhist this is the chief way in which society can be improved, because the good society can only be created from the bottom up not from the top down (Ophuls 1981, p.143).

At a public lecture held in Lismore, New South Wales, in 2002, the Buddhist monk Sulak Sivaraksa related a story about an activist who had been jailed and tortured. When asked what he had feared the most while in jail, the ex-captive remarked: ‘I was afraid that I would begin to hate my oppressor and lose my mental equilibrium’. Here we find two contemporary Buddhists expressing a common insight of the spiritual life, also to be found in the passage on justice quoted from The Republic: that the true concern and interest is with the inner state; right action comes from inner harmony and order. When, in the words of Plato, we have attained self-mastery and ‘become one

141 instead of many’ (or integrated with the universal Self), whatever actions may be performed, be they personal or political, they will be ‘just and honourable’.

As suggested earlier, Plato did not approach the problem of integration in the manner of the Katha Upanishad. Like Buddhism, both Vedânta and Yoga philosophy believe integration and self-mastery to be the result of understanding. In Phaedrus and other texts, Plato sometimes seems to be taking the path of self-control or suppression. Even so, it appears to me that Plato’s view of justice is predicated on a state of internal harmony and self-mastery, which, in my view, places him in philosophical rather than political company.

A translator and interpreter of the Yoga Sûtras once remarked that the serious pursuit of Yoga can only be undertaken on understanding ‘fully the nature of human life and the misery and suffering inherent in it’ (Taimni1961/1999, p.xii). Plato appears to be speaking from a similar position. This is indicated in the Seventh Letter in which he reflects back on his life, and discloses his rationale for founding the Academy, in which a would-be politician might be trained in philosophy. Though authorship of Plato’s letters is in dispute, the Seventh Letter is regarded as one of the two most likely to be authentic. In it he writes of his disillusionment with politics, fuelled by the fact that the restored democracy put Socrates to death on charges of impiety and corrupting the young (Introduction: Plato 1955/1987, p.14-16). As Plato writes:

When I considered all this, the more closely I studied the politicians and the laws and customs of the day, and the older I grew, the more difficult it seemed to govern rightly … law and morality were deteriorating at an alarming rate, with the result that though I had been full of eagerness for a political career … I came to the conclusion that all existing states were badly governed, and that their constitutions were incapable of reform without drastic treatment and a great deal of good luck. I was forced, in fact, to the belief that the only hope for finding justice for society or for the individual lay in true philosophy,

142 and that mankind will have no respite from trouble until either real philosophers gain political power or politicians become by some true philosophers (Plato 1955/1987, p.16).

In my view, Plato is here speaking from a position comparable to that of the serious student of Yoga, Buddhism, or Vedânta, a position that is based on understanding ‘the nature of human life and the misery and suffering inherent in it’ (Taimni 1961/1999, p.xii). That is not to say that the above sentiment is not capable of hegemonic (and political) interpretation: Popper and Plumwood have both accused Plato and Platonists of totalitarianism based on the mastery of “true philosophy”. Yet it also admits of a philosophic interpretation that is very much in line with Upanishadic thought, and with the profound discontent that is arguably the basis of all religio-philosophic systems.

In his introduction to the Select Works Of Plotinus, G.R.S. Mead writes of a twofold delineation of ethics in the system of Plotinus: an ethic for all, consisting of the ‘political ’, and another for the philosopher, consisting of the ‘higher’ virtues which assist in ‘the destruction of the passions’, and prepare the soul for mystic union with God (Mead 1895/1929, p.xxxii). The same ethical scheme can be found in The Republic, and much of what Plato wrote is concerned with the “higher virtues,” the ultimate aim of direct unitive perception, and various means to that end. Plato as I read him, and Plato as philosopher in the original meaning, was chiefly concerned with expounding the virtues pertinent to the ultimate ends of the spiritual life, virtues conducive to freedom from bondage to the passions. Politics is concerned with intermediate means to intermediate ends, not with the ‘higher virtues’.

The steady-state economist Herman E. Daly clearly distinguishes ultimate from intermediate ends, saying that:

143 In the largest sense, man’s ultimate economic problem is to use means wisely in the service of the Ultimate End … [defined as] that which is intrinsically good and does not derive its goodness from any instrumental relation to some (Daly 1979, p.70).

In his critique of “growth mania” Daly attempts to bring economics into line with the Ultimate End, which economics and politics are (ultimately) meant to serve (Daly 1979, p71). But generally speaking, neither politicians nor economists appear to be concerned with Ultimate Ends, at least not so that it is evident in their policies. Thus, given Plato's persistent attention to the ultimate Good, the image of Plato as politician might be regarded as questionable and ambiguous, at the very least.

Much of what Plato wrote is nonsense in terms of modern analytic philosophy, but sense in terms of non-analytic philosophy. Phaedrus, for example, is regarded as ‘unusually difficult to grasp’ (Introduction: Plato 1973, p.7). I suggest that it is difficult because it deals with matters long lost to view. Among other perplexities it contains a clear reference to the Mysteries,30 in the section in which Plato outlines his theory of reincarnation, and introduces the allegory of the charioteer. Having discussed the soul’s immortality, its reincarnation, and various means by which it recollects its knowledge of the Forms, Plato refers to participation in a festival as one of the surest means to recollection. He suggested that there are few who by their undeveloped faculties could discern the “originals” in justice, self-discipline, and ‘other forms which are precious to ’, but that such visions or recollections took place in the festivals (Plato 1973, p.50-61). In the following passage, I take it that Plato is, indeed, describing his

30 All the ancient cities of the world had temples for public worship and offering; but they were also home to what amounted to private philosophical and religious schools, sometimes known as the Mystery Schools. The Mysteries were the most important religious occasions or festivals in the ancient calendar, but as only the initiated could fully enter into them, they have always been veiled by secrecy (Guirand 1959/1986, p.155). However it is known that there were numerous throughout the Eastern and Western worlds, including the Druidic Mysteries of Britain and Gaul; the Rites of Mithras; Christian gnostic cults; the Druses of Lebanon; the Orphic Mysteries of Greece; and the Odinic Mysteries of Scandinavia. Most widely acclaimed were the Egyptian and the Eleusinian Mysteries, both of which were divided into the Lesser and the Greater.

144 participation in one of the Mysteries. He explained that the soul experiences recollection before taking birth, or in between lives, and, then goes on to describe a number of conditions under which recollection might take place within an incarnation. It is the most promising of these methods that Plato refers to when writing:

[B]eauty was once ours to see in all its brightness, when in the company of the blessed we followed Zeus as others followed some other of the Olympians, to enjoy the beatific vision and to be initiated into that mystery which brings, we may say with reverence, supreme felicity. Whole were we who celebrated that festival, unspotted by all the evils which awaited us in time to come, and whole and unspotted and changeless and serene were the objects revealed to us in the light of the mystic vision. Pure was the light and pure were we from pollution of the walking sepulchre31 which we call a body, to which we are bound like an oyster to its shell (Plato 1973, p.56/7).

The author is speaking about an experience available to participants in a festival dedicated to Zeus, the supreme God in the Greek pantheon. As Zeus was believed to reside in the ether and on mountain tops, and was considered to be the “All-high” (Guirand 1959/1986, p.98), it is plausible to suggest that Plato might be referring to one of the Greater Mysteries, the more so because this particular event carried the potential for ‘supreme felicity’.

Admittedly, some of the foregoing is guesswork on my part. The literary evidence does however suggest that the works of Plato might be regarded as religio-philosophical texts, and not just as self-serving political tracts. Plumwood and others argue that Plato is not much use to anybody hoping to construct a viable and robust environmental philosophy (especially Plumwood 1993 and Plumwood 1997). Perhaps they are right,

31 Quite predictably, this type of expression is offensive to feminists and ecophilosophers alike (see especially Plumwood 1997, p.157).

145 but not because Plato’s politics is awry, rather because he was primarily concerned with other things.32

There is much in Platonic and Neoplatonic thought that might be of relevance to ecophilosophy, such as the doctrine of correspondences, culminating in the notions of macrocosmos and microcosmos; the theory of successive emanations; and the idea that the world is ensouled. For one thing, nature is regarded as being alive. As Hilary Armstrong affirms, ‘all Platonists, following the Timaeus, believed that the physical world was an ensouled living being’ (Armstrong 1973, p.372). Walter Pagel has said of Platonism that nature is seen as a “sleeping spirit”. Part of this idea is problematic because nature is deemed to exist, ‘not by virtue of its coarse material body, but by its spiritual kernel, the spark that is invisible to the eye’ (Pagel 1985, p.128). But such problematic dualism is more apparent than real. Pagel stresses that whilst Platonism adhered to a dualism of sense objects on the one hand and Ideas on the other, it emphasised, ‘the principle of continuity in the cosmos’, encompassing the highest to the coarsest matter (Pagel 1985, p.127). Matter, he writes, was still considered to be spiritual, ‘though disguised by a thick material cover’ (Pagel 1985, p.128).

Platonism is undergirded by a radical nondualism in the conception of a primary unity overlaid by a series of emanations, or gradations, of ever decreasing unity. Platonists speak in terms of a hierarchy (a sacred order) and see reality as a series of emanations of the One or the Good. Armstrong remarks that for Plotinus and all later Platonists, the transcendent source:

produces a series of levels of being which are progressively less unified, more dispersed and separate and multiple, and

32 Timothy Mahoney also provides a non-political interpretation of Plato, on the basis of which he argues that Plato does have something useful to contribute to ecophilosophy (Mahoney 1997).

146 consequently weaker and more imperfect; though even the last and lowest, the physical universe, is held together and given a certain degree of unity which prevents it from vanishing altogether into nonbeing by the power of the One (Armstrong 1973, p.374).

This is rather close to Bohm’s view of reality discussed in chapter 6. Matter and consciousness, for Bohm, are both basically dynamic. The implicate order common to mind and matter is ‘in a constant process of change and development’, involving a ceaseless process of ‘unfoldment and re-enfoldment’ of potentialities, with the explicate order constantly reinjecting its experience into the implicate order (Bohm 1990, p.273). The theory of “enfoldment” embodies the principle described by Bruno and as “all things are in all things,” which in Bohm’s theory becomes, ‘the whole universe is in some way enfolded in everything and … each thing is enfolded in the whole’ (Bohm 1990, p.273).

THE THEORY OF SUCCESSIVE EMANATIONS RE-EVALUATED

A new framework in ecophilosophy might allow marginalised doctrines to be given another hearing. Although the notion of an intelligible/intelligent matter is likely to resonate positively with panpsychist doctrines, despite associations with Platonic thought, the twin doctrine of successive emanations is likely to meet with resistance. I argue, however, for a nondualist interpretation of the doctrine of successive emanations, and suggest that viewed against the background of nondualism it has something useful to contribute to ecophilosophy. Closer study might reveal that the doctrine of successive emanations explains the intelligibility of matter, and that if consistency and comprehensiveness are desired we cannot adopt one and discard the other.

McIntrye briefly outlines the (now) controversial and no doubt familiar Platonic doctrine as follows:

147

To Iamblichus, as to Plotinus, the Ideal world was a hierarchy of Gods, from the ineffable, unsearchable One, down, tier upon tier, through successive emanations, to the Gods that are immanent in the world we know and the things of the world (McIntyre 1903, p.129).

In my view, this theory might readily be updated without distorting the original meaning, simply by not taking literally the hierarchy of successive emanations from the One to the most material aspect of the Many. This would be an appropriate approach, because not literally is how Platonists would likely have treated the doctrine.

The word hierarchy need not carry elitist or bureaucratic connotations. When McIntyre writes of the One reaching down through successive emanations, the word “down” need not be taken as a value judgement or as a geographical indicator; indeed it should not. The One, in any traditional system in which it is contemplated, is not up north, or on high. Nor is the One “within” or “beyond” in any literal sense, but rather it is universally diffused. These are all metaphors, mere pointers away from the direction in which we generally look, away from the purely phenomenal or empirical aspect of reality. The hierarchy of successive emanations could be seen alongside Anaxagoras's and Bruno’s contention that “all things are in all things,” a notion which might now be augmented by the image of enfoldment as employed by Bohm in his theory of the implicate order.

The doctrine of successive emanations, the theory of enfoldment, and the notion that “all things are in all things” could be used to construct the analysis of mirroring that Naess has found wanting (Naess 1989, p.201). Bohm and Peat reconsidered the meaning of hierarchy in light of their work on generative orders. The generative order is ultimately something like the Ground of Being in which is enfolded the explicate order we see around us. As the co-authors define it:

148 This order is primarily concerned not with the outward side of development, and evolution in a sequence of successions, but with a deeper and more inward order out of which the manifest form of things can emerge creatively (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.151).

One example given of a generative order is Goethe's notion of the Urpflanze, the "original plant" which he conceived of as 'a generative principle or movement from which all plants of a particular kind emerged' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.162). This principle manifests as a dynamic movement leading to a series of transformations of form yielding the great variety of plants. Goethe conceived of a generative principle, an Urpflanze, for each species, but Bohm and Peat extend Goethe's notion to propose 'a still higher generative order of a wider range of species of plant, going on ultimately to the generative order of plants as a whole and even perhaps to life as a whole' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.163).

Bohm and Peat explain that 'Goethe was speaking of, not a beginning in time, but rather a source of order in the generative principle that implicitly contains a totality of structures and forms of a range of related species' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.202). There is room in such a notion for both chance and "design", for both randomness and order; but with order predominating. The explicate order arises out of a more fundamental field, the very nature of which might be described as Order:

149 It is clear that the implicate order [nearly synonymous with the generative order] ultimately prevails, although it is always in an essential relationship with the explicate order (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.180).

Returning to the notion of a hierarchy, then, Bohm and Peat re-define the term to include the idea that in a hierarchy,

the more general principle is immanent, that is, actively pervading and indwelling … hierarchies are no longer fixed and rigid structures, involving domination of lower levels by the higher. Rather, they develop out of an immanent generative principle, from the more general to the less general (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.164).

Whitehead holds a similar notion in the relationship of God, Creativity or Possibility to the actual, when he suggests: 'Eternal objects inform actual occasions with hierarchic patterns, included and excluded in every variety of discrimination' (Whitehead 1926/1985, p.216). This conforms to the general idea of proportion in the microcosm in relation to the macrocosm. In , Leibniz treated each monad as the whole universe or as 'a mirror of the universe' (Khoruzhii 1996, p.44). Similarly, Bohm and Peat describe the individual or the microcosm as an analogue of the whole:

[E]ach subject can be considered as a microcosm, who stands in relation to the whole as an inexhaustible source of . The observer and the observed are thus internally related to a totality of "ratios" or proportions, which are enfolded in both (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.196).

Augmented by the Buddhist image of the “Jewel Net of Indra,” this might yield what Francis H. Cook described as, 'vastly more pervasive and complicated interdependency than we have so far imagined’ (Cook 1989, p.213).

150 The Jewel Net of Indra is an image employed by Chinese Buddhists of the Hua-yen school to teach the doctrine of mutual co-arising, and to exemplify ‘the manner in which things exist’ (Cook 1989, p.214). The net of Indra stretches infinitely in all directions, as does existence, with each jewel reflecting all the other jewels, also infinite in number: 'it symbolizes a cosmos in which there is an infinitely repeated interrelationship among all the members of the cosmos’ (Cook 1989, p.214). It may seem contrived to bring together a hierarchical and teleological view of the cosmos, such as that embodied in the doctrine of successive emanations, with a Buddhist view of “what is,” which is thoroughly non-hierchical. But, in line with the foregoing discussion, I maintain that the word “successive” in the doctrine of successive emanations simply implies that the One is successively repeated in the Many, so that every instance of the Many is an equal (but not identical) expression of the One. The word “successive” in this case does much the same duty in the Platonic doctrine as the notion of an “infinitely repeated interrelationship” does in the jewel net image employed by Hua-yen Buddhism. It is true that succession implies a linearity absent in the image of the jewel net; but at another level, they both suggest that “all things are in all things,” and most certainly that the One is in all things.

It might be objected that while the One is in all things there remains something about the One that is apart or different from the Many, at least in the doctrine of successive emanations. When looked at closely, however, it will be found that what is different about the One is that it represents a purer embodiment of the unitive dimension, which also exists in the Many, albeit in an attenuated form. Besides, there is nothing in the image of the jewel net to say that each jewel reflects all the others in exactly the same way. That would make them identical copies or clones of each other, rather than reflections. Furthermore, the image of reflecting is not alien either to Platonism or to Hermetic philosophy, in both of which the One is seen as reflected in the Many, the Many as an “extension” of the One. This interpretation of successive emanations is consistent with a nondualistic interpretation of Platonic and Hermetic philosophy. As

151 pointed out above, Platonism appears to be dualistic but is underpinned by radical nonduality. A series of emanations overlays the primary unity, but a certain degree of “unity” is present in each emanation. The emanations might be viewed as the explicate unity, in the manner of Bruno and Bohm. The prime difference between the Jewel Net of Indra and the doctrine of successive emanations, in my view, is that the former tries to represent the “instant of eternity,” the latter, the “instants of time” - two expressions I owe to McIntyre, though I use them in a different context (McIntyre 1903, p.133). I have to admit that the jewel net image is also more eco-politically correct.

The idioms of Buddhism and Platonism appear to be vastly different, but the they describe have much in common. In his forward to the Tractatus Logico- Philosophicus said that Wittgenstein compared linguistic expression to ‘projection in geometry’:

A geometrical figure may be projected in many ways: each of these ways corresponds to a different language, but the projective properties of the original figure remain unchanged whichever of these ways is adopted (Forward to Wittgenstein 1921/2001, p.xi).

The ratio or proportions of a figure are maintained as the projective properties. “Identity” and “interdependence” might be considered the projective properties of the image of the jewel net (Cook 1989, p.215); and also that of the doctrine of successive emanations. The One is dependent on the Many, else it would have no form and be incapable of activity; at the same time, the Many share in the unitive dimension of the One. Matter and all its permutations is the explicate unity, the One is the intrinsic unity. In the doctrine of successive emanations there is less emphasis on interdependence and more emphasis on identity, but I argue that the difference between the two images is more one of degree or emphasis than of kind. Both doctrines reveal the ever-presence

152 and all-pervasiveness of the One, the unitive dimension in everything. Or in Bohm's idiom, both doctrines reveal the workings of the holomovement.

In the doctrine of successive emanations and the Jewel Net of Indra, Platonism and Buddhism offer culturally nuanced descriptions of the same order of reality, rather than diametrically opposed views of reality. In my view, they have a great deal more in common with each other than either have with modern evolutionary , or analytic philosophy, in which the unitive dimension is notably absent from consideration. Speaking about the idea of the microcosm mirroring the macrocosm, Naess once remarked that this Renaissance idea has now been revived in ‘hologram thinking’:

Each flower, each natural entity with the character of a whole (a gestalt) somehow mirrors or expresses the supreme whole. I say “somehow” because I do not know of any good analysis of what is called mirroring here. The microcosm is not apart from the whole … Microcosm is essential for the existence of macrocosm. Spinoza was influenced by the idea when demanding an immanent God, not a God apart (Naess 1989, p.201).

In the absence of a good analysis of mirroring or reflecting, we should not jump to conclusions about the doctrine of successive emanations. A good analysis of mirroring might reveal a more complex reality than previously conceived, one that encompasses the process of emanation along with that of reflection.

CENTRAL TENETS OF RELIGIO- PHILOSOPHY

153 What I clumsily call religio-philosophy Plato and others in the tradition have described merely as philosophy or true philosophy. Certainly, some distinction must be made between this religious or spiritual tradition/s and modern analytic philosophy, with its emphasis on language and logic. The latter seeks to know the world whereas the former seeks to overcome it, as it were. Various forms of nondualism are fundamental to this approach, so that Steuco could with some justification claim that there is ‘one principle of all things, of which there has always been one and the same knowledge among all peoples’ (in Schmitt 1966, p.520). That one principle is the One, the Absolute, or the Ground of Being, and the idea that the human being can attain insight into that principle, and also attain union with it. For Steuco, the most enduring quality of religio- philosophy ‘consists in the supposition that there is always a single sapientia knowable by all’ (Schmitt 1966, p.517). This wisdom, he believed, was attainable through study of one of the traditions in which it is embedded, or by direct contemplation (Schmitt 1966, p.522).

In his novel, Those Barren Leaves, Huxley disclosed a similar sentiment to the one just related, when he claimed:

[T]he axes chosen by the best observers have always been startlingly like one another; Gotama, Jesus, and Lao-tsze, for example. They lived sufficiently far from one another in space, time, and social position. But their pictures of reality resemble one another very closely. The nearer a man approaches these in penetration, the more nearly will his axes of moral reference approach to theirs (Huxley 1925/1950, p.377).33

What Huxley is suggesting here, if it needs any interpretation, is that the reason the Buddha (Gautama), Jesus, Lao-tse, and other spiritual figures were remarkably alike in the general orientation of their ‘pictures of reality’ is that they had in common a certain quality of perception by which each penetrated with insight into the nature of reality,

33 Cited also in Urban, 1929, p. 339.

154 into the essence of things. The further implication is that the nearer anyone approaches the same degree of insight, or direct unitive perception, the nearer their pictures of reality will conform to the common of religio-philosophy.

Equally widespread is the Platonic belief that wisdom is an innate power of the soul, and that ‘knowledge of God is somehow innate’ (Schmitt 1966, p.519). The Cambridge Platonist Henry More gave this conception a technical gloss in his arguments for “innate ideas”. In her outline of More’s philosophical theories, Flora Mackinnon, Assistant Professor of Philosophy and Psychology in Wellesley College, took the following statements to be indicative of his position. Referring to innate ideas, More had said:

I do not mean that there is a certain number of ideas flaring and shining to the animadversive faculty like so many torches or starres in the firmament to our outward sight … but I understand thereby a certain sagacity in the soul … (quoted in Mackinnon 1925, p.259).

The soul, More believed, housed a knowledge of things far more complete and ‘exquisite’ than matter could convey unaided:

Cause, effect, whole and part, like and unlike and the rest … equality and inequality … proportion and analogy, symmetry and asymmetry and such like [are] no material impresses from without upon the soul, but her own active conception proceeding from herself whilst she takes notice of external objects (quoted in Mackinnon 1925, p.259).

This is very like Kant's conception of representation, and constructivists might also agree that these sorts of notions are not given by the material world. However, More and other Platonists would not agree that these innate ideas are merely social (or mental) constructions with no objective reality. Platonists regard the interior world of the soul, including the innate ideas, as more deeply real (Schmitt 1966, p.508) than

155 either the phenomenal world or our representations of it. The various qualities, values, symmetries, ratios, and so on are knowable by reason because they exist as innate ideas, or, because of our innate capacity to perceive them (which in my view amounts to the same thing). The word ratio, from which reason derives, suggests a correspondence of proportions and symmetry. Vedânta would suggest that we are capable of contemplating God because we share the same nature. The human being is potentially an analogy, a microcosm, of the divine mind. The spiritual disciplines of Yoga and Vedânta are directed towards uncovering that potential, which could be described as universal Being.

Several common principles of religio-philosophy have been noted up to this point: it is a philosophy of the sacred; there is a widespread belief that it is universally diffused and dates back to ancient times; there is a premise of a single wisdom knowable by all who appropriately discipline themselves, and an assumption that this wisdom is an innate capacity of the soul. These characteristics are common to systems of thought as otherwise diverse as Platonism and Vedânta, hence the notion of a perennial philosophy. The chief idea, goal and method, however, would have to be direct intuitive perception and its potential as a tool for liberation, and a means to deliver insight into the nature of reality and consciousness. Among other things this faculty is known as intuition, unmediated perception and intelligence or intellectus, as distinct from reason, analysis, ratio, and thought.

DIRECT INTUITIVE PERCEPTION

The realm of experience, or technique, known as intuition or direct intuitive perception has been devalued since the rise to prominence of eighteenth-century ; nonetheless, it remains part of the Western philosophic canon. It features in the work of

156 the Presocratics, including Heraclitus and Parmenides, and in Plato and the Neoplatonists, but also more recently in the philosophy of Spinoza, Schelling, Bergson and Bohm. Intuitive insight and direct perception, in which there is no separation between the knower and the known, is also central to Vedânta, Buddhism, Taoism and Yoga psychology. The argument as to whether or not intuition is a higher faculty than reason receives much attention in studies of German idealism and in comparative studies of Eastern and Western religion and philosophy. Before suggesting some of the ways in which the notion of direct intuitive perception might be of use to ecophilosophy I would like to make a few points about the general discussion.

First, I think it is high time to question the usefulness of the category of Eastern philosophy, specifically the implied incommensurability of Eastern and Western thought. This is a point made by Paulos Mar Gregorios in his work on Neoplatonism and its Indian influences. In discussing the question of the 'oriental' influences on Plotinus he suggests we look at the question itself, rather than try to answer it unequivocally one way or the other (Gregorios 2002, p.13). For his part, Gregorios categorically states: 'There is no historical or philosophical ground whatsoever for the affirmation that the thought of Plotinus is totally free from all Oriental influence' (Gregorios 2002, p.14). But his basic question is that if 'philosophy is some form of universal truth why should geography condition it?' (Gregorios 2002). Gregorios suggests we put aside geographical and racial 'parochialisms' and see all philosophies as part of a common heritage. Concurring with this view, I suggest, further, that if we are going to drop categories such as "" and "perennial philosophy", then we might as well abandon the distinction between East and West in philosophy for the same reasons. What is useful is to evaluate the ideas in question, not to place them under umbrellas which then require a lot of effort, and many pages, to keep them from blowing away in the wind.

157 My second, and related point, is that Advaita Vedânta and the chief doctrines in the Upanishads are not as alien to the West as might be assumed. The earliest records of astronomy, mathematics, medicine and geometry have been found in South Asia, along with the earliest roots of English, which is an Indo-European language. Consequently, the German Sanskritist Max Müller once remarked: 'In so far as we are Aryans in speech, that is, in thought, so far the Rg Veda is our own oldest book … the first development of intellectual activity in our own race' (cited in Radhakrishnan 1939, p.119). In both these views, that of Gregorios and that of Müller, the Upanishads are part of our own tradition, representing an early part of our philosophic heritage, not just that of India. Indeed, when the metaphysics of the Upanishads is compared with the metaphysics of , Plato, Bruno, Schelling, Schopenhauer, Whitehead and Bohm, many ideas will be found in common.

The main differences between East and West, in many respects, arise only after the seventeenth century scientific revolution and the Enlightenment, when reason came to be regarded as our highest faculty and verifiability became the bottom line of knowledge. Furthermore, doctrines of intuition and liberation from the empirical self, central to the Upanishads, remain part of Western tradition not only among the German idealists but also in the works of Spinoza and Bohm, and among those concerned with religious or spiritual development. The real disjunction occurs when the metaphysics of the Upanishads is compared with modern ecological science or with classical physics. Comparisons with some interpretations of hold some water, but the point is that metaphysics should not be expected to yield empirically verifiable facts.

The perspective outlined above raises different questions than whether or not an 'ecological wisdom' is to be found in South Asia or the Far East (Hargrove 1989a, p.xii), or whether the East has anything at all to teach ecological science about valuing nature (Rolston III 1987). I would instead ask whether nondualistic metaphysical systems have anything to teach about psychological and social transformation. I would argue that our

158 state of mind has a direct bearing on whether or not we are able to value nature or care for other living beings, not as means to the fulfillment of our desires but as ends in themselves. South Asian traditions such as Vedânta and Buddhism clearly point to the urgency of psycho-spiritual change and the necessity of freedom from desire. The post- Enlightenment tradition of the West has valued freedom, but largely interpreted that idea as freedom from external constraint. Vedânta, Buddhism and Taoism stress the need for freedom from inner compulsion. In several papers and in his book In Search of Philosophic Understanding, E.A. Burtt sums up the two positions (Burtt 1953; Burtt 1959; Burtt 1965), for example in the following statements:

According to the dominant orientation of the East, one who is merely free from external constraint is by no means really free; for this he must be liberated from the internal forces that drive him to make wrong choices or are revealed in unrealistic and ego-centred desires (Burtt 1965, p.287).

159

Thinkers on both sides realize that ignorance means bondage, whereas knowledge spells freedom. From the Western viewpoint as to what is important, knowledge of the physical world brings man greater freedom in his relation to it; instead of being in bondage to its forces so that he must submit to whatever effects they produce, he can control nature's doings so that they will serve his ends as they otherwise would not … From the Eastern viewpoint, it is knowledge of one's self that brings true liberation. Nothing else can achieve this result, for the bondage the Eastern philosopher is concerned about is bondage to one's own inner drives and emotions. While ignorant of them one is inevitably their captive … (Burtt 1965, p.288).

In the Eastern point of view, freedom from external constraint is important but it is not the highest value. On its own, it can support a lack of concern for the welfare of others, and an unnecessary frustration with inevitable constraints (Burtt 1965, p.291). As Spinoza also pointed out, freedom is purely interior for the human being. Only the infinite or God is internally and externally free.

The difference in approaches to intuition appear to stem largely from differences in the primary orientation of philosophy in the East, and most certainly in India, that is, the attainment of a state of being which Burtt describes as 'happy self-realization' (Burtt 1953, p.288), and which might be thought of as liberation from the empirical self, or moksha. Since the seventeenth century, science (and to a great extent philosophy) has largely been concerned with obtaining knowledge of the world and freedom from, or control over, nature. Intuition is generally regarded as irrelevant to this exercise, and as 'an invalid method, because it appears incapable of being checked in any of the ways required by the developed Western sense of intellectual responsibility' (Burtt 1953, p.284). What is of most concern to philosophy in the East, on the other hand, are the necessary (internal) conditions for happiness, and the radical transformation of the self, so as to overcome 'paralyzing inner conflicts and the equally disturbing hostilities

160 between the self and others' (Burtt 1953, p.290). This tendency of thought is clearly reflected in the philosophy of the klesas or afflictions in the Yoga Sûtras. The word klesa is a technical term meaning, ‘to torment, annoy, trouble’ (Taimni 1961/1999, p.130). Thus, the klesas are hindrances or afflictions that annoy, torment or trouble us; but they are not external hindrances such as noisy neighbours or humid climates. The afflictions are all psychological: ignorance, I-am-ness, attractions and repulsions towards objects, clinging to life and fear of death.

The intellect is of limited use in the process of self-transformation, which involves the attenuation of these hindrances. Burtt points out that, in this field, the intellect is 'a treacherous guide - it is always ready to use its rationalizing power to block the process and maintain, if it can, the status quo' (Burtt 1953, p.290). Quoting an unnamed Eastern source, Burtt points out that inner freedom is also an important quality of leadership:

The freedom that is essential above all else is inner freedom; it is required if men are in truth to be outwardly free … Man's primary need is freedom from the forces within himself that tempt him to evade responsibility instead of fulfilling it, to remain the prey of dependence and fear … And the conclusion applies to those who wield political authority as much as to others. Without inner freedom, they are in bondage to forces that make their power a source of sorrow and calamity to their fellows and sooner or later to themselves. Only when liberated from that bondage can they become true democratic leaders, using their persuasive and organizing skill to establish conditions that foster increasing for all (Burtt 1965, p.291).

Another reason for the very limited role ascribed to the intellect in self-transformation 'is that the process involves the unification of everything in one's personality, and not just the cognitive mind, in the discharge of the latter's epistemological responsibilities' (Burtt 1953, p.290).

161 Schopenhauer's view of the intellect complements Burtt's on the above point. He regarded the intellect as 'nothing but a tool, an organ of the will, a means to the preservation of the individual and the species … limited to mere phenomena': not as 'primary, fundamental, the heart and essence of all things' (Frauenstädt cited in Lovejoy 1961, p.31).

162 CONSCIOUSNESS AND THE INTUITIVE FACULTY

Burtt also argues that the Westerner not only sees nothing of importance beyond the realm of objects:

[H]e even defines "consciousness" as always implying awareness of some object. By contrast, the Eastern thinker sees something of vital importance beyond and underlying all objects - namely, the universe that encompasses them, and the self that apprehends them - the knower, which by its very nature is the subject of consciousness and always eludes us when we try to make it an object. In fact, he is sure that when its essence as knower is fully realized … the separation between subject and object that is necessary for rational knowledge is transcended, and the self becomes aware of itself as a unity in which that separation has been overcome. He is likewise sure that consciousness - so far from disappearing in this realization - only then becomes freed from its prison and fulfills its intrinsic nature (Burtt 1965, p.286).

“Consciousness” carries different connotations in South Asian philosophical systems than in the West. Consciousness without an object, that is, contentless consciousness, is regarded as consciousness per se; thought and representation are not consciousness itself, but part of its content. In Sânkhya metaphysics, for example, the distinction is made between pure consciousness, purusa, and prakriti which is matter/nature, the metaphysical principle underlying all physical manifestations or phenomena (Schweizer 1993, p.847). This latter category includes all mentalistic qualities such as thought, desire, the sense of I-am-ness and so on. In Sânkhya, as discussed elsewhere in the present dissertation, the category of mind includes three distinct but related functions, buddhi, which is comparable to the Greek , and is responsible for 'higher level intellectual functions, which require intuition, insight and reflection'; manas, the organ of cognition as such; and ahamkâra, the I-making principle, which 'appropriates all mental experiences to itself' (Schweizer 1993, p.848). The realm of prakriti is regarded as inherently unconscious and devoid of awareness, but the site of all movement.

163 Purusa or consciousness, is 'the absolute, unconditioned self … described as pure and undifferentiated awareness … immutable and inactive' (Schweizer 1993, p.849). All activity takes place in prakriti or matter. As Schweizer put it:

Movement and form are characteristics of matter, and they are also characteristics of thought, which is a manifestation of matter, while consciousness is held to be intrinsically formless and unchanging (Schweizer 1993, p.849).

Traditionally the difference between the two, and their mutual dependence, is illustrated with the image of purusa being lame and prakriti being blind. The material principle is the site of all movement and generation, but the impetus and direction for that movement is given by spirit or consciousness. In Bohm's terminology, discussed later, purusa would be of the highest generative (implicate) order from which derive all the transformations of form.

One of the benefits of the mind/consciousness dualism of Sânkhya metaphysics is that it sheds light on the nature of consciousness. Consciousness is what remains after all the other categories of existence are negated or transcended. Consciousness is what underlies every object and every representation. It was present in the beginning and remains when all else has passed away. In Vedânta it is sometimes argued that only consciousness is real; all objects and all representations being transient, evanescent bubbles constantly coming to be and passing away in the field of consciousness. Plato shares this view, arguing that the most important distinction is between that which always becomes but never is, and that which never becomes but is always. Another way of putting the basic Vedantic position is to say that ultimately the phenomenal world is nothing but consciousness, there is no real substance to it, materiality is just a temporary appearance and consciousness is what is real. As it says in the Yoga Vâsistha, 'all these apparent manifestations are in reality not different from infinite consciousness' (Swami Venkatesananda 1984, p.145). Infinite consciousness appears as

164 the millions of species. But that appearance is not real, taking "real" to mean complete, whole, total, and the like:

[That] which was non-existent in the beginning, and that which shall cease to be in the end, is not real in the middle … either. That which exists in the beginning, and in the end, is the reality in the present too (Swami Venkatesananda 1984, p.146).

What Swami Venkatesananda refers to as being present in the beginning, the middle and the end, is pure consciousness or awareness; the light which makes everything visible and intelligible, or, in Plato's system, the Good.

There is a close relationship between pure or infinite consciousness, as just described, and direct intuitive perception. Both have to be distinguished from thought and representation, neither can be described or proscribed by any content. Both consciousness and direct perception illuminate what is. Pure consciousness seems to function something like the implicate or generative order from which both mind and matter and all its evolutes arise in Bohm's system. Perhaps pure consciousness is the holomovement, the highest of the generative orders, the totality. This would indicate a sound basis for Bohm's faith in the power of attention, a type of direct perception in which thought is suspended in favour of seeing and listening without moving away into descriptions and desires. Bohm described attention as unlimited in scope and possessing a power akin to that of a laser beam in which all the light waves are in phase with each other. He and Krishnamurti seemed to regard attention and awareness as having almost miraculous powers. Bohm, for instance, held that matter, far from being mechanical, is infinitely subtle with capacities to respond to perception in ways science could never measure. Thus, he believed that insight or perception can affect matter, not just our understanding and our consciousness, but 'the chemical level, the tacit level - everything' (Bohm 1996, p.83). Perhaps attention and awareness have the potential to

165 tap into pure consciousness or the holomovement, from which all that exists is generated and which holds everything that exists together in a state of order.

Professor Burtt's approach to the subject of intuition is a useful counterpoint to Lovejoy's in The Reason, The Understanding, and Time. Lovejoy offers an analysis of the notion of intuition chiefly through a study of the German idealists, leaving the reader in no doubt as to the authors position on the relative merits of reason and intuition (Lovejoy 1961). Burtt's work seems to undercut that of Lovejoy by making the comparison between reason and intuition seem redundant. In Burtt's eyes there is no real competition between reason and unitive perception, East and West, because philosophies which give importance to direct intuitive perception do not deny the importance of reason in its own sphere, which is that of the phenomena, the world of objects. As Burtt put it:

166 … whenever the question is one of testing the validity of a logical or the truth of an empirical statement, it is taken for granted that the accepted techniques should be applied and that no intuition claiming the right to dispense with them deserves credence. Eastern philosophers are just as eager as Western logicians to maintain objective standards here. But their primary concern with these matters … is different from that of the West … (Burtt 1953, p.288).

The persistent concern of the West (except during the medieval period) has been to understand the external world … In the East, especially in India, the controlling interest has been to comprehend the inner self of man, in its capacity for growth toward wholeness … (Burtt 1965, p.275).

When it comes to doctrines of direct intuitive perception in the West, we see at times a mixture of the two approaches above, for instance in the science of Goethe and the natural philosophy of Schelling. As Lovejoy writes:

But few Western philosophers have been satisfied with a flight from the Many to the One unless they could fly back again, bringing with them, so to say, some speculative or practical gains applicable in the world of plurality and becoming … (Lovejoy 1961, p.115).

GERMAN IDEALISM

Between 1795 and 1830 an influential strain of philosophy in Germany, and then, wider Europe, began to distinguish between two radically different modes of knowing: a “lower” and a “higher,” of which the former was said to constitute the method of science, the latter that of philosophy (Lovejoy 1961, p.1). This line of thinking was not new; it dates back at least to Plato and the Upanishads. In India, this distinction is made in numerous ways, for instance, between parâvidyâ and aparâvidyâ: a higher and a

167 lower knowledge. In terms of subject matter, parâvidyâ refers to "knowledge" of the eternal, the imperishable, the infinite; aparâvidyâ refers to the sciences and the Vedas (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.99). Vidyâ simply means knowledge, it is equivalent in meaning to scientia. Thus, for example, Âtmâ Vidyâ means science of the Self. In the , aparâvidyâ (or "not higher knowledge") refers to the four Vedas - Rig, Atharva, Yajur and Sama - as well as to ‘Phonetics, Ritual, Grammar, Etymology, Metrics and Astrology'. The higher knowledge, 'is that by which the Undecaying is apprehended’ (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.672). The prefix pra or para signifies that a transcendental mode of knowing, or transcendent subject matter, is indicated. Sometimes jñâna is contrasted with vidyâ; in which case vidyâ means aparâvidyâ (lower knowledge) and jñâna means parâvidyâ (the higher knowledge or wisdom). The higher knowledge or knowing is usually expressed as prajñâ, which means transcendental insight.

So there are a number of possibilities, depending on the context. These are outlined in the figure below, with the left-hand column representing higher-order knowing, insight or wisdom; the right-hand column showing various terms for the lower forms of knowledge, ending with avidyâ, the existential or primordial ignorance of our “true natures” as the universal Self or âtman, and consequent identification as “the me” or empirical self. The terms on the left are often paired with the terms on their direct right.

Parâvidyâ (higher knowledge, or Aparâvidyâ (lower knowledge such as of knowledge of higher things) texts and sciences) Prajñâ (transcendental wisdom or insight) Jñâna (knowledge) Jñâna (wisdom or direct knowledge) Vidyâ (knowledge, but not direct insight) Vidyâ (knowledge as opposed to opinion) Avidyâ (primordial ignorance)

168 In the Chândogya Upanishad a distinction is made between ‘the knower of texts and the knower of the self’ (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.99). Self here means âtman, the non- empirical self. This is a difference, not only in subject matter, but also in the mode of knowing. The non-empirical Self cannot be grasped by the senses. This matter was summed up in Swami Sivananda’s translation of the Mundaka Upanishad in the following saying (III. 1.8):

Brahman is not grasped by the senses as it is subtle and infinite, but is realised by the intellect purified through knowledge and meditation (Sivananda 1997, p.76).

In Radhakrishnan’s more literal translation:

He is not grasped by the eye nor even by speech nor by other sense- organs, nor by austerity nor by work, but when one’s (intellectual) nature is purified by the light of knowledge then alone he, by meditation, sees Him who is without parts (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.688).

Similarly, Wilder explains that Plotinus taught:

The Infinite is not known through the reason, which distinguishes and defines, but by a faculty superior to reason, by entering upon a state in which the individual, so to speak, ceases to be his finite self, in which state divine essence is communicated to him. This is ecstasy, which Plotinus defines to be the liberation of the mind from its finite consciousness, becoming one and identified with the Infinite (Wilder 1869/1975, p.13).

The Platonic and Upanishadic distinction was revived in Germany and North America by the interlinked movements of romanticism, idealism and . Following Friedrich Jacobi, the Understanding and the Reason was the terminology employed in Germany (Lovejoy 1961, p.2). Jacobi reversed the order in which the two

169 faculties were (and are) regarded in India and in Kantian thought. In Jacobi’s work reason was exalted above the understanding: it was the reason not the understanding which was capable of direct or immediate knowing. What Jacobi said of reason, however, is commensurate with what others have said of direct intuitive perception; only the terminology is different. In Lovejoy’s words, Jacobi regarded reason as the:

[P]ower, however seldom exercised, not merely to imagine, postulate or believe in, but to know, with the most indubitable kind of knowledge, a realm of realities other than that of sense- experience, and not subject to the categories and laws which hold good of the sensible world. This knowledge is not the result of any process of inference, it is not mediated through general concepts; it is a direct “intuiting” or “perceiving” of the “supersensible,” analogous, in its immediacy and indubitability, to physical vision, though differing from it utterly in the nature of that which it discloses (Lovejoy 1961, p.4).

Reason is normally equated with the analysis of sense experience, the exact opposite of the direct knowing suggested by Jacobi as the nature of reason. As generally conceived, reason is not direct perception or direct intuiting. But the important point here is not the name but the distinction between direct intuitive perception (called reason by Jacobi) and perception mediated by thought (called reason by Schelling and others). As Plotinus writes:

One kind of intelligence is the intellectual perception of another thing, but another is the perception of a thing by itself, or when a thing perceives itself … That … which intellectually perceives itself, is not separated essentially from the object of its perception, but being co-existent with it sees itself (Plotinus 1895/1929, p.290).

Direct intuitive perception, or unitive perception, is analogous to physical vision in its immediacy, that seems not to be disputed. What seems to be in dispute is whether or not

170 there is anything to disclose apart from objects. As Burtt pointed out, the prevailing tendency in the West since the seventeenth century has been to deny the existence of anything apart from or within the world of objects. In the East, generally, and in the West prior to the scientific revolution, it is believed that unitive perception can disclose the noumenal reality towards which the phenomena point. It does not, however, help to describe unitive perception as Eastern, because doctrines of unitive and direct perception exist in the West also. Kant repudiated the philosophy of intuition in an essay entitled ‘On a Certain Genteel Tone which has of late appeared in Philosophy’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.7-8). To him, the notion of a direct perception of truth, 'not gained through arduous and sustained efforts of the labouring intellect, seemed the very negation of philosophy’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.7-8). Among other things, Kant objected to the implication (and evidently so does Lovejoy) that:

[In] order to possess all philosophical wisdom, one has no need to work, but has only to listen to and enjoy the oracle that speaks within oneself … [and that the philosopher of intuition] discovers his own nature, not by the herculean labour of self-knowledge built up patiently from the foundations, but by a sort of self-apotheosis which enables him to soar above all this vulgar task-work. When he speaks, it is upon his own authority; and there is no one who is entitled to call him to account (Lovejoy 1961, p.9).

This is partly based on a misunderstanding, or a lack of knowledge, of what is involved in direct intuitive perception. There is work and method in Buddhist, Hindu, Yogic and Platonic systems. Uncovering the inner nature of self and world is the highly disciplined work of stilling the mind and its projections (representations). As Ravi Ravindra once put it:

When the mind is totally silent and totally alert, both the real subject () and the real object (Prakriti) are simultaneously present to it: the seer is there, what is to be seen is there, and the seeing takes place without distortion … That is the state of perfect and free attention … (Ravindra 1998, p.167).

171

Purusa or the inner person, the real subject, is the âtman or inner self. As already noted, purusa is the term used widely throughout the Yoga and Sânkhya traditions, where the Vedânta would speak of âtman or âtmâ. Prakriti is matter or nature. To still the mind is the definition given of yoga by Patañjali - citta vritti nirodhah - yoga is the cessation of the modifications of the mind. This is a 'herculean labour of self- knowledge', but self-knowledge of a different kind than Kant had in mind. Burtt's understanding of what is involved seems to closely reflect the ethos of Yoga and Vedânta. He writes:

Full self-knowledge involves an awareness of all the turbulent desires and passions stirring the soul, which are the source of inner conflict and which block the path toward the achievement of an integrated personality. Moreover, this is a practical and not just a theoretical awareness … To achieve this apprehension is a long and arduous process; it is a matter of persistent moral self-discipline as much as a matter of increasing intellectual insight. In this context, understanding and knowledge are no mere affairs of reason and logic as they are for the West - they involve much more than the gaining of information about formal structures or matters of fact (Burtt 1953, p.289).

Self-knowledge is that which is obtained from turning inward and studying the self, not with the view to expanding its knowledge, but more in keeping with the Taoist and Buddhist practice of simplifying and emptying it of conditioned content. Everything that is not pure consciousness or pure seeing is negated, until only the Subject, the Seer, or pure consciousness remains. That process results in a type of seeing which, in the Yoga tradition, is said to be truth-bearing, rtambhara. Another way of putting the same thing is to say, with Bohm and Krishnamurti, that self-knowledge, if it is to have any spiritual value, has to mean the observation and understanding of thought as a process, which is basically what self-understanding boils down to.

172

DEVELOPING THE FACULTIES

Lovejoy responds with sarcasm to the assumption that the appropriate faculty or organ must be developed before the intuition and what it reveals can be understood. He writes: 'The saving intuition is not to be reached by any process of intellection, but by a sudden revelation; and except a man be born again he cannot receive it’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.35). Minus the disparaging tone there is some truth in this. Intuition and what it reveals are not reached by any process of intellection, nor, as the Upanishads confirm, by austerities, by karma (action or work), or by the senses: but by the intellect purified through knowledge and meditation (Sivananda 1997, p.76), or by meditation preceded by the necessary purification (Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.688). It is by following a rigorous training that the person is “born again”. The revelation may be sudden, but the preparation is lengthy and determined, the result difficult to attain.

Lovejoy points out that another feature of this theory of knowledge ‘is the direction in which it bids us look if we are to find and grasp the true nature of reality. That direction is ”inward”…’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.42). What does it mean to look within? According to Schelling and Schleiermacher it means looking to our “real” or “deeper” selves (Lovejoy 1961, p.42). Lovejoy quotes the latter to say:

Whenever I turn my gaze upon the inner Self, I am forthwith in the realm of the eternal; I behold the activity of the Spirit, which the world cannot change, which time cannot destroy, but which, rather, creates both world and time (in Lovejoy 1961, p.42-3).

We may ask, what is the activity that the world cannot change? Representational mental activity constantly changes, but the act of watching, attention, awareness or

173 contemplation is prior to any representation of what is seen (it is “prior” both chronologically and in terms of importance), and may be described as an activity which the world does not change. This would be acceptable both to Krishnamurti and to Bohm, as well as to Plotinus and the authors of the Upanishads. Another way of looking at this unchanging "activity" is to see it as the Self or âtman, the inner being. Further, Schelling and others have argued that the Self cannot become an object but is seen directly, or intuitively. In seeing directly, thought is in abeyance; whenever thought is active there is always an object in view. Krishnamurti equated thought with time, so that when thought is in abeyance time is not active either. In this sense turning the attention (but not thought) to the inner Self places one in the realm of the eternal, which is not of thought and not of time. Thought is what moves away from the eternal present, and brings time into the equation.

Bergson has argued for a ‘reversal of the usual work of the intellect’ (Karen Stephen, The Misuse of Mind, 1922, p.15 Cited in Lovejoy 1961, p.37). The usual work or tendency of the intellect is to turn outward and to produce representations of what is presented to it. To reverse this is to turn inward and to be still (a state in which there is no movement of thought). The Patañjali Yoga system begins the training for meditation proper with pratyahâra, a reversal of the senses, which Ravindra has defined literally as not eating, not consuming, and not partaking. It is a reversal of the senses which not only turns the mind inward, but reverses the tendency to accumulate, to affirm, to analyse, to describe and to add to the conditioning of the mind. It leads ultimately to the stilling of the mind, a state which is precursor to the realisation of one’s true nature as unlimited, unconditioned consciousness. For Bergson, to “recall our perception to its original character” is the way to philosophic insight and to the attainment of the supreme Good (Lovejoy 1913, p.9). This “return to the immediate” gives not only supreme insight, ‘but the supremely desirable experience’ as well (Lovejoy 1913, p.9).

174 Bergson also describes this return to the immediate as bringing perception back to its source, and resuming possession of ourselves as we really are, in the present moment (in Lovejoy 1961, p.92). Lovejoy admits that these ‘strange and perplexing’ utterances are ‘attempts to report a kind of actual experience’ but he then suggests that we should try to understand the experience. and the state of consciousness to which it alludes, by finding ‘analogues or approximations to it in experiences with which we are acquainted’(Lovejoy 1961, p.93). But experiences with which we are acquainted, if they are not that experience, may not be of much help. Why not try to understand the experience by actually experiencing it, and as a first step, sit down for a few minutes and try to bring back the perception to its source. This is one of the first stages of meditation in the Yoga Sûtras. The movement of perception, or thought, is to go out into the external world and/or to move away from merely seeing “what is”. A little observation will reveal that if you try to concentrate on one thing, or to keep the mind still, it moves away. Let us call “the source” a still point of no movement, and each time there is a movement of thought, or as a thought arises, gently bring it back to that still point. There are numerous similar techniques in the Yoga/Vedânta tradition. taught his followers to distinguish between “I am” and “I am this body and this mind”, for instance, when he said: ‘Give up all questions except one “Who am I?” … The “I am” is certain. The “I am this” is not. Struggle to find out what you are in reality’ (Maharaj 1973/1981, p.81). In practice, it is possible to sit down quietly and discern the difference between the “I am” and all of the things with which it is identified. Just as it is possible to discern the difference between consciousness and its content, and between mediating thought and the immediate.

In The Âtman Project, transpersonal psychologist argues that the trajectory of life or existence describes an outward and an inward arc. Assuming for the sake of argument that the higher states of consciousness described by mystics are real, Wilber proposes a “life-cycle” which moves from subconsciousness to self-consciousness to superconsciousness (Wilber 1980, p.3). Instinctual and impulsive behaviour is typical of

175 the subconscious phase; self-consciousness is characterised by the development of the ego and the power of reason; superconsciousness is the domain of intuition, compassion, eternity and the âtman.

On the outward arc the movement is from subconsciousness to self-consciousness; the inward arc is a movement from self-consciousness to superconsciousness. In the Indian tradition these are known as the Pravritti Mârg and Nivritti Mârg. Coomaraswamy characterises the outgoing path as the path of pursuit and self-assertion. The path of return, Nivritti Mârg, is characterised as one of increasing Self-realisation (The Dance of 1957 cited in Wilber 1980, p.3-4). On the outgoing we take, we accumulate, we affirm and we build an identity. On the return we give, let go, divest, negate and de- construct, finally realising the impersonal, transcendent Self, the âtman that is Brahman (the Absolute).

Wilber draws on a variety of traditions including Platonism, Buddhism, Taoism and Vedânta to plot the human journey on the path of return to the Self or to the Godhead, a journey he describes as "the âtman project,” which he conceives as the development of higher states of unity, or a conscious awareness of unity. These stages of the life cycle can be seen in each human life:

ƒ First there is a movement away from a unity with the mother - which was a state of peace and wholeness ƒ Then the development of a strong (in the well-adjusted individual) ƒ Finally, all being well, the development of an equally strong sense of social responsibility, an ability to give of oneself, and thus participate fully in the many aspects of life which depend on interaction with others in a spirit of cooperation and dialogue.

176 We begin with an unconscious unity in the womb, then we gradually distance ourselves and create a strong individuality, and finally we learn to transcend that and achieve a higher or more conscious sense of unity. It should, however, be pointed out that not only the human being is on this journey, the whole universe including matter itself is in process of outgoing and return. The goal of natural evolution, argues Wilber, is also the development of ever-higher unities or wholes, a movement away from the One, and then a return to the source. In the human being this last involves the development of the "inner" intuitive faculties.

Like Wilber, Schelling sees egoity as ‘the universal expression of isolation, or separation from the totality … egoity is the general expression and highest principle of all finitude’ (Bowie 1993, p.59). Schelling, however, rejects ‘mystical immediacy’ (Bowie 1993, p.178), but at the same time writes of an ecstatic relationship between reason and being 'which is not preceded by any concept’ (Bowie 1993, p.179), and which, therefore, amounts to much the same thing as “mystical immediacy” as described in the foregoing. Combining some of the insights of Schelling and Wilber with Yoga and Vedânta, the development or unfoldment of consciousness might trace the following pattern:

ƒ emergence of the differentiated world of matter and the conditions for life ƒ the development of organic form ƒ a stage of subconscious awareness and unconscious unity ƒ leading to conscious awareness and development of a strong sense of identity ƒ and finally the development of Self-awareness by directed effort such as that of Yoga

The first stages in the development of self-consciousness happen to us, as it were, the last stages are devised and directed by us (either personally or by others like us such as spiritual advisers, religious leaders and so on). Put in terms of Hindu metaphysics: In

177 the beginning there was just pure consciousness or Parabrahm: one without a second. Then an out-breathing or a movement occurred which set in train a process, initially “unconscious”, in which matter was formed, and finally at a stage of sufficient complexity arose self-consciousness and then conscious unity. That aspect of universal consciousness which is unity, however, is present in and veiled by every stage of development and state of consciousness. It does not appear or arise merely at a certain stage of complexity, but rather gives rise to the complexity, diversity, and creativity necessary to reveal its richness; the true nature of unity or of reality, becoming apparent only with the development of the necessary faculties of perception.

SELF-KNOWLEDGE AND GERMAN IDEALISM

Many of the ideas discussed by Schopenhauer and other idealists trace back to the Upanishads. That was certainly Schopenhauer’s view. He is quoted to have said:

In the whole world … there is no study … so beneficial and so elevating as that of the Upanishads. They are the products of the highest wisdom. They are destined sooner or later to become the faith of the people (Cited in Radhakrishnan 1953/1990, p.1).

Schopenhauer's treatment of self-knowledge reflects that of the Upanishads. He speaks of a necessary connection between self-knowledge and the direct knowledge of reality. As Lovejoy writes:

Schopenhauer, too, assumed that, in contrast with the Understanding’s knowledge of objects, which can never give us more than an acquaintance with mere phenomena, there is available to man an immediate knowledge of the very heart of reality as it is in itself, and that this knowledge must necessarily be self-knowledge (Lovejoy 1961, p.43).

178

The reason given by Lovejoy for the primacy of self-knowledge in the thought of Schelling, Schleiermacher, Jacobi and Bergson is as follows:

[I]t seems to them evident that any certain knowledge must be direct, unmediated, an actual possession by the knower of that which is known. … and it was primarily because self-intuition seemed equivalent to immediate knowledge, a direct “acquaintance with” being, while the Understanding could at most profess only to yield “knowledge about” it, that the former was given the higher place (Lovejoy 1961, p.46).

I think that is misleading. In the Bhagavad Gîtâ it says that he who sees the Self sees the same everywhere. It all hinges on the quality of the seeing, of the observation. A mode of perception that is divisive, analytic, fuelled by desire and so forth, is necessarily indirect, having been deflected from “what is” by desire and projected either into the past or the future. Some possibilities for the intersection of Self-knowledge and knowledge of ultimate reality follow:

ƒ If there is something within us that is at one with ultimate reality, as the âtman doctrine suggests, then knowledge of the âtman (the Self) may well yield understanding of the ultimate reality. ƒ It is necessary to be aware of everything within oneself that veils direct perception of this reality. As Burtt put it, full self-knowledge implies 'awareness of all the turbulent desires and passions stirring the soul' (Burtt 1953, p.289). For this reason too, self-knowledge is a prerequisite to knowledge of ultimate reality. ƒ Many systems suggest that we have to negate indirect perception (thought) to come to the direct. So awareness of the movement of thought, of identification, of representation, of attachment and of desire (in short, self-knowledge) is a necessary prerequisite to direct, unmediated perception.

179 ƒ Just as indicated that the entire world is within us (Lovejoy 1961, p.42), so too have the Upanishads and Buddhist writings suggested that within us are all the gods and demons. Similarly Krishnamurti argued “you are the world”, and that if we could see the whole movement of just one thought we would understand the movement of thought completely. In part, this movement is the movement away from direct seeing, the movement away from “what is”, into either desire or aversion. So again, self-knowledge is necessary. ƒ What is immediately and most completely known to us is the subject matter of phenomenology and Yoga. In the final analysis, that which is most intimately and immediately known to us is consciousness itself, and anything at all perceived in the unitive state in which subject and object, knower and known, are one. This type of perception, however, must be discerned and developed.

If looking within only revealed the empirical self, it could not be a "knowledge of everything". Self-knowledge could only yield knowledge of everything if it were argued that the Self (or âtman) is everything in essence. It is because the Self is no-thing, but present equally everywhere, that Self-realisation gives a direct knowledge of that which having become known all else is known, which is the goal of the Upanishads. Lovejoy rightly points out, though disapprovingly, that this self-knowledge or ‘intuiting of the self’ is not what is generally ‘understood by ’. Introspection 'acquaints us only with what, in Kantian terminology, was called the empirical Ego’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.44).

Lovejoy defines introspection as the ‘observation of our fleeting and chaotic contents of consciousness, our sensations, concepts, desires, motives, moods’. What is at issue here is what is meant by observation, and what motivates the observation. Observation of the empirical self, of the content of consciousness, can indirectly lead to Self-knowledge if that observation is not merely of the “navel gazing” or self-obsessive variety. It is in fact necessary to become aware of the chaotic content of consciousness, because

180 without such awareness, and the understanding it brings, inner freedom is not possible. As Krishnamurti pointed out, any analysis of the content of consciousness, or suppression of it, or desire to change it, only serves to further entrench the observer in the content. It cannot lead to freedom. There is, however, another type of observation, which can lead to freedom from the content of consciousness in toto, and not just from any particular content such as a phobia or a neurosis. That too is an observation of the content of consciousness, the desires, the sensations, the motives and the moods; however it is not analysis, but an observation of the content as content, with a view to transcending it, rather than modifying it. The aim is not to analyse or to control but to negate everything that is not pure consciousness or pure observation, because the observer has become aware of the limitations of thought, and seen the importance of understanding its movements.

INTUITION DEFINED

Bergson developed a highly sophisticated analysis of intuition. In Introduction to Metaphysics he argues:

If we compare the various ways of defining metaphysics and of conceiving the absolute, we shall find, despite apparent discrepancies, that philosophers agree in making a deep distinction between two ways of knowing a thing. The first implies going all around it, the second entering into it. The first depends on the viewpoint chosen and the symbols employed, while the second is taken from no viewpoint and rests on no symbol. Of the first kind of knowledge we shall say that it stops at the relative; of the second that, wherever possible, it attains the absolute (Bergson 1961, p.1-2).

We call intuition here the sympathy by which one is transported into the interior of an object in order to coincide with what there is unique and consequently inexpressible in it. Analysis, on the contrary, is the operation which reduces the object to elements

181 already known, that is, common to that object and to others. Analyzing then consists in expressing a thing in terms of what is not it. All analysis is thus a translation, a development into symbols, a representation taken from successive points of view (Bergson 1961, p.6-7).

Similarly, Buddhist epistemology distinguishes two forms of knowledge, one that fulfils the functions of reason, the other, those of intuition. In Sanskrit, this latter form of knowledge is known as prajñâ, or transcendental knowledge, which is the equivalent of the highest form of Plato’s “knowledge proper”. Jñâna is defined as, ‘unvacilating and abiding self-knowledge and true knowledge by which truth and reality are apprehended’ (Dasgupta 1922/1975 a, p.499). Prajñâ is such knowledge of the highest order, as the prefix pra indicates. In line with Hindu and Platonic metaphysics, Suzuki explains that this transcendental wisdom is concerned with ‘the ultimate truth of things, it is no superficial knowledge dealing with particular objects and their relations’ (Suzuki 1932/1978, p.xxx).

A reader is free to argue that this type of perception is not possible, or that it is not, as Bergson assumes, a simple act; few of us would be in a position to establish the truth of the matter one way or the other. But it would be difficult to make the argument that analysis does not reduce objects of perception (or conception) to elements already known, or that it does not translate reality, or that it is not conditioned by the past. A simple act of self-observation would set the matter straight once and for all; analysis always interprets, and always projects. Thus, the emphasis in Buddhist epistemology and Yoga has always been on the limitations of thought per se, and not on the hazards of any particular train of thought. Not understanding the nature of thought, or the nature of the empirical self, is regarded by many religio-philosophers, and by Bohm, as the greatest hazard of all.

182 Regarding the subject matter discussed in this chapter, the gulf between conjecture and practice is wide. Intuitive knowledge, but not the theory of it, is affective as well as cognitive (to borrow an expression from Wienpahl). Academic knowledge is generally regarded as merely conceptual, and is perhaps not the best way to approach the subject of direct intuitive perception.

THE DEEP ECOLOGY VERSION OF "PERENNIAL PHILOSOPHY"

We have seen that a number of proto-Deep Ecology texts, Silent Spring, ‘The Historical Roots of our Ecologic Crisis’, ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’ and The Limits To Growth, raised issues taken up by Naess and others, as eco-political enquiry began to extend its reach beyond the physical problems engendered by excessive economic growth. In its critique of exponential growth and the underlying worldview, Deep Ecology has been situated in the ranks of the counterculture and the “minority tradition,” by its own theorists and detractors alike. In this context, Devall and Sessions make frequent reference to the Perennial Philosophy. In Deep Ecology - Living As If Nature Mattered, their survey of the sources of the Deep Ecology perspective begins with the explanation that Deep Ecology derives ‘its essence’ from:

[T]he Perennial Philosophy, the pastoral/naturalist literary tradition, the science of ecology, the “new physics,” some Christian sources, feminism, the philosophies of primal (or native) peoples, and some Eastern spiritual traditions. The writings of , Gary Snyder, Robinson Jeffers, , and David Brower have also contributed greatly to the Deep Ecology perspective (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.80).

It was in a review of Deep Ecology literature that Sessions described it as ‘the new Perennial Philosophy’ (Sessions 1981, p.417). Citing Anne Chisholm’s book,

183 Philosophers of the Earth: Conversations with Ecologists (1972), Sessions also remarked that Frank Fraser Darling, ‘who alerted Great Britain to the environmental crisis in his BBC Reith Lectures in 1969’, had a strong affinity for the Perennial Philosophy (Sessions 1981, p.395). Chisholm had already made the connection when she stated: he ‘inclines to "the Perennial Philosophy", regarding the search for truth by mystics as lying at the centre of all the great religions' (Chisholm 1972, p.52). Somewhat out of character perhaps, Val Plumwood once described Naess’s position as involving ‘politically useful alliances with the Perennial Philosophy and with Buddhist thought’ (Plumwood 2000, p.62). These are some, but not all, of the explicit references to Perennial Philosophy in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement.

Naess has made occasional elliptical references to Platonic doctrines. For instance, in an interview with Rothenberg, Naess mentions that he was:

… very impressed with the Renaissance doctrine of microcosmos and macrocosmos: that everything mirrors macrocosmos in one way that’s very difficult to make precise… I have this ontology of wholeness, where you have subordinate and superordinate wholes, like a movement within a symphony, partaking in the whole and nevertheless being something in itself... (in Rothenberg 1993, p.93).

Naess had earlier alluded to the idea of the microcosm in Ecology, Community and Lifestyle, but without adding much in the way of precision. I have already quoted him on this point elsewhere. I would argue that Naess’s loose hold on this central conception of Renaissance thought (indicated by his use of the word somehow), and an absence of enquiry into this pivotal doctrine, has left Deep Ecology in the position of advocating and aligning itself with a tradition that it seems to know very little about, and which on closer examination it might not find so appealing.34

34 Had he explored, further, the mechanisms by which the macrocosm and the microcosm might mirror each other, Naess may have come to the conclusion that this is not a useful direction in which to

184

Perhaps the boldest misrepresentation in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement is the Devall and Sessions version of Huxley’s summation of Perennial Philosophy, which significantly weakened Huxley’s statement. The co-authors wrote that when Huxley surveyed the world’s religions and philosophies:

He found that they characteristically began with a metaphysical account of the world or reality which placed humans in the wider scheme of things. Human psychology was then understood in terms of adjusting to this larger reality. Finally, a system of ethics or a way of life was the end result of the Perennial Philosophy approach (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.81).

Huxley, however, did not begin with an account of the world placing humans in the wider scheme of things; he began with an account of the reality positing a spiritual substance as absolutely fundamental to both world and consciousness. Wittingly or not, in the above statement, Sessions and Devall edited out the divine principle. They did this in spite of having quoted Huxley as saying: ‘In all the historic formulations of the Perennial Philosophy it is axiomatic that the end of human life ... is the direct and intuitive awareness of God; that action is the means to that end’ (in Devall and Sessions 1985, p.81).

The Perennial Philosophy of which Huxley, Smith and Schuon write, is thoroughly infused with a sense of the sacred or the divine. Here is Huxley’s version:

proceed. Positing such a model, Deep Ecology would be edging towards a radical form of holism or nondualism, in which consciousness is primary, and in which both macrocosm and microcosm, subject and object, are temporary appearances resolved in an underlying unity. This goes against the grain of modern evolutionary cosmology, with its purely physicalist model in which consciousness is, at best, secondary.

185 PHILOSOPHIA PERENNIS - the phrase was coined by Leibniz; but the thing - the metaphysic that recognizes a divine Reality substantial to the world of things and lives and minds; the psychology that finds in the soul something similar to, or even identical with, divine Reality; the ethic that places man’s final end in the knowledge of the immanent and transcendent Ground of all being - the thing is immemorial and universal (Huxley 1947, p.1).

It seems that the Sessions and Devall version of Perennial Philosophy wants to say that there is no divine Reality substantial to the world of things and lives and minds. This may be attractive to those who believe that there is nothing substantial to or embodied within matter/energy, but it does not reflect the position of any author or text identified with the tradition Huxley outlined. As already indicated, Platonists posit an intelligible world “beyond” or “within” the visible and sensible world, an intelligible world more deeply real than the phenomena (Urban 1929). This principle is also axiomatic in Upanishadic philosophy.

In keeping with nondualistic metaphysics Huxley then posits a psychology that finds in the soul something identical with this divine Reality, a view of the human condition that is prominent in Platonic philosophy, and in the Upanishads (in the form âtman = Brahman). On the other hand, in the Devall and Sessions version the soul merely accommodates itself, or ‘adjusts’ itself, to the ‘larger reality’ that is left undefined. The larger reality in their version may consist solely of matter/energy devoid of life, with no purpose of its own. Such imprecision leaves this system open to treating the soul as an epiphenomenon of matter, if matter is the larger reality to which the soul adjusts itself. But in Platonism, Vedânta and other traditions in which this psychology is to be found, the “larger reality” is very much alive; it is the Good, the Absolute, the Eternal, or the Ground of Being - the source and cause of all that exists, including matter/energy. Finally, in the absence of a divine Reality substantial to the world of things and lives and minds, what, for Devall and Sessions, could possibly replace the ethic which, in Huxley’s prose, ‘places man’s final end in the knowledge of the immanent and

186 transcendent Ground of all being’? They do not appear to know, and thus simply say that ‘a system of ethics or a way of life was the end result of the Perennial Philosophy approach’, which clearly is to say very little.

All in all, when looked at closely, it appears that the Devall and Sessions version of Perennial Philosophy differs little from modern analytic philosophy, which can equally be said to place humans in the wider scheme of things, and understand human psychology in terms of adjusting to the wider reality. What philosophy does not base itself upon some worldview or other? Sessions did not go into any detail in his comment that Deep Ecology is ‘the new Perennial Philosophy’ (Sessions 1981, p.417), nor did he enlarge on the theme in numerous statements in which he referred to the Presocratics and others having ‘developed perennial philosophies which were pantheistic and surprisingly ecological’ (Sessions 1985, p.236). Devall and Sessions did however acknowledge the ‘direct relevance’ of Perennial Philosophy to Deep Ecology. As the co-authors stated:

The Perennial Philosophy tradition has direct relevance for us today for several reasons. Modern Western academic philosophy in the twentieth century has become very wedded to mechanistic science as its touchstone for reality and knowledge, along with a narrow preoccupation with the analysis of language, and has all but lost sight of the wisdom tradition in philosophy. Specialists in philosophy now, for example, do ethical theory entirely divorced from its metaphysical underpinnings or an awareness of the deep assumptions they are making... (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.81).

The relevance of perennial philosophy to Deep Ecology, in their view, chiefly consists in its having achieved a coherent synthesis of metaphysics, psychology, epistemology, and ethics as well as social and political theory (this, especially the last, is highly debatable). As such, perennial philosophy, along with much of Eastern philosophy and

187 psychology, offers a useful alternative to the Western analytic tradition (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.81). With this last point I heartily concur.

A TRADITION OF PHILOSOPHIC DISSENT

Rather than speaking in terms of a link with perennial philosophy, perhaps Deep Ecology can be more usefully be regarded as part of a tradition of philosophic dissent which has been influenced by various South Asian philosophies and relatively neglected parts of the Western canon. In order to show what is meant by this, I refer to a paper by the science and development scholars Ashis Nandy and Shiv Visvanathan, ‘Modern Medicine and its Non-Modern Critics’, an exploration of the ‘dissenting western imagination in alliance with indigenous knowledge systems in India’ (Nandy and Visvanathan 1990, p.155). The notion of a “dissenting Western imagination” might mean many things, including forms of political dissent such as . But Nandy and Visvanathan were calling the reader’s attention to, ‘a deeper dialogical encounter’ between India and the West, an encounter in which Indian metaphysics, philosophy, and psychology were enlisted in the attempt to revive ‘the other West of and Paracelsus’ (Nandy and Visvanathan 1990, p.156). Deep Ecology has clear affinities with this counterculture, as Zimmerman argued in Contesting Earth’s Future (Zimmerman 1994). It has engaged in a dialogue with elements of Indian metaphysics, philosophy, and psychology (or at least dipped into them), and it has attempted to revive, or at least borrow from, relatively neglected modes of Western thought found in the writings of Blake and Paracelsus.35

35 The fact that Blake and Paracelsus may be of literary and historic interest in the faculties in which they are studied, may still leave their work neglected as viable descriptions of reality.

188 Devall and Sessions portrayed Deep Ecology along similar lines to those discussed by Nandy and Visvanathan, as entering into a dialogical encounter with Buddhism, Taoism, the Presocratics, and Eastern and Western forms of process philosophy. In such fashion, Deep Ecology has been associated with various traditions of dissent by its own theorists and detractors alike. An example of the latter is Peter van Wyck’s accusation that Deep Ecology has deployed scientific ecology as a ‘Trojan Horse containing dissenting ideas’, in philosophy, religion, and cosmology (van Wyck 1997, p.60/95).

To further illustrate what philosophic dissent might entail, I refer to a remark once made by the poet and occultist William Butler Yeats, who once described himself as a voice of a ‘greater renaissance’:

The mystical life is the centre of all that I do and all that I think and all that I write … and I have always considered myself a voice of what I believe to be a greater renaissance - the revolt of the soul against the intellect - now beginning in the world (from Letters, New York: Octagon 1953/74, quoted in Graf 2000, p.13).

The image of a revolt of the soul against the intellect resonates with Deep Ecology and Platonism; just as it clashes with modern analytic philosophy. On the one hand we are faced with a contemplative tradition in which soul, wisdom, Intellectus and value are central; and on the other we find an analytical tradition in which intellect, fact, logic and language predominate.

The image of a dissenting Western imagination in alliance with Indian knowledge systems, as well as Yeats’s revolt of the soul against the intellect, suggests a (supposedly) universal voice of dissent against reason or intellect divorced from intuition; against scientific materialism; and against , the notion that a totally transcendent, and now absent God, created a machine-like universe. In these

189 circumstances, it is not hard to see why alliances might have formed between Deep Ecology and some of these knowledge systems.

A counter-Enlightenment, counter-analytical theme runs throughout the literature of Deep Ecology, both pro and contra. A few examples follow. D.H. Lawrence is repeatedly listed among the resources of Deep Ecology. He is noted for his dissatisfaction with the anthropocentrism of , and its reliance on the rational intellect (Janik 1981, p.72). Sylvan made derogatory reference to what he called the ‘The Counter-Enlightenment antipathy to analytic and rational methods’, resurfacing in ‘Western Deep Ecology’ (Sylvan 1986, p.46). By Western Deep Ecology distinct from “authentic” Deep Ecology, he meant the writings of a number of North American and Australian theorists especially Sessions and Fox. Deep Ecology is frequently classified as the latest in a long line of (Romantic) counter-Enlightenment critiques, sometimes favourably and sometimes pejoratively. Sessions has described Romanticism as ‘a continuous Western counter-cultural force to the rise of the Western urban-industrial paradigm’ (Sessions 1981, p.439). A typical example of remarks made by critics of the movement is the following:

This individualistic romanticism is one that runs from Rousseau, through Wordsworth and the American [sic], and manifests itself in contemporary environmentalism in the form of movements such as Deep Ecology … (Szerszynski 1996, p.120).

Notwithstanding repeated endorsements, the romantics and transcendentalists are also criticised by Deep Ecology theorists on account of a perceived anthropocentrism and other-worldliness. Huxley, Lawrence, the Buddhist beat-poet Gary Snyder, and the poet Robinson Jeffers are treated as heirs to the romantic tradition who managed to overcome its ecologically negative tendencies. According to Del Ivan Janik, they exemplify, ‘a broader, biocentric view in which external nature is valued for its own sake and man is seen as one co-equal partner in the process of the whole’ (Janik 1981,

190 p.72). Janik introduces Lawrence as a mystic who never lost sight of ‘the independent and irreducible integrity of the “other”’ (Janik 1981, p.73).

The ecological-mystical sentiment which does not lose sight of the distinctiveness of "the other" is valued highly in the Deep Ecology movement. When the subject was raised at the Earth Philosophy Australia (EPA) camp held near Murwillumbah in New South Wales (2002), academic Kate Rigby quoted a poem by the Zen poet Basho: ‘The morning glory / another thing / that will never be my friend’. It was met with nods of approval. In an e-mail sent out to the EPA list after the camp, Rigby quoted Robert Bly’s comments about the poem in his book, The Morning Glory. Bly had written:

Where we first sense that a pine tree really doesn’t need us, that it has a physical life and a moral life and a spiritual life that is complete without us, we feel alienated and depressed. The second time we feel it, we feel joyful (in Rigby 2002).

This exchange is emblematic of the commitment to negotiate the line between “oneness” and “difference” evident in the work of several Deep Ecology, feminist, and postmodern theorists.

Janik has isolated three major sources of the romantic attitude toward nature in England and America in the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries. All of these are evident in the Deep Ecology movement: (1) a reaction against the negative impacts of the industrial revolution, ‘and a turning toward untouched natural settings as potential refuges from the ugliness and sordidness of industrialism’; (2) a reaction against Enlightenment rationality and a consequent attraction to primitivism; (3) in response to the waning of religious influence in the shadow of modern science, the romantics ‘drew not only on science and speculative pseudo-science, but also on German idealism and Oriental religion’ (Janik 1981, p.68).

191 In this chapter I have attempted to give a fuller hearing to a number of nondualistic doctrines, focussing mainly on direct intuitive perception. The potential of unitive perception and the limitations of thought will be further explored in chapter 6 in connection with Bohm and Krishnamurti. Some of the insights of the German idealists, Plato, and transpersonal psychologist Ken Wilber have been shown to converge on the potential for the evolution of consciousness towards a state of conscious unity, or higher order unity, which is the goal of Platonic thought as it is of Yoga and Vedânta. While conceived in a slightly different context, Bergson’s definition of intuition approaches the exactness of a technical definition applicable to all schools of thought discussed above. The next chapter examines the complaints that have been levelled against Deep Ecology, mainly on the grounds of its affiliation with some of these schools and doctrines.

192

Chapter 4 Deep Ecology Under Fire

Western Deep Ecology differs in important respects from the Deep Ecology originated and pursued by Naess, what I now call authentic Deep Ecology ... Western Deep Ecology, also known as transpersonal ecology (though the ecology has largely dropped out) … has been advanced primarily by West Coast Americans (Devall, Drengson, Sessions and others) and associated West Australians (Fox, now of Tasmania, also Hallem and others). Unlike authentic Deep Ecology, Western Deep Ecology is hostile to environmental ethics, which it tends to dismiss as mere axiology: and it is excessively enthusiastic about transpersonal experience, spiritual “paths” and “ways”, and unitarian metaphysics - in which there are no ontological divides, no dualisms (of subject/object, subjective/objective), and no separation of things (Sylvan 1986, p.1).

This chapter seeks to show that many of the existing complaints against Deep Ecology relate to its overt and tacit links with the Perennial Philosophy. Some of these linkages are evident in the above quotation in which Richard Sylvan refers to spiritual paths, nondualistic metaphysics, and transpersonal experience, all of which coalesce in the Deep Ecology interpretation of Self-realisation. The above quotation might almost be taken as emblematic of what has gone wrong with Deep Ecology, so far as several of its detractors are concerned; it has become far too spiritually oriented at the expense of the urgent need for the development of a new environmental ethic.

Although they read as if they had been written with a great deal of animus, it would be unwise to dismiss Sylvan’s 1985 and 1986 critiques. Sylvan (formerly Routley) was Senior Research Fellow at the Department of Philosophy, Research School of Social Sciences, Australian National University. Along with Val Plumwood (then Routley) he

193 was responsible for a great deal of the early development of ecophilosophy in Australia. Sylvan also worked in logic, metaphysics, and semantics; training that is evident in his critique of Deep Ecology. Moreover, as William Grey has noted, although Sylvan wrote in a distinctive "bare knuckles" style, his scepticism towards the religious or mystical orientation of Deep Ecology is typical of academics in Australia (Grey 1996).

It was evidently in characteristic Australian style, then, that Sylvan described what he called authentic Deep Ecology as, ‘a mundane, secular platform concerned with real environmental issues, which is not a predominantly human psychological exercise and which does not mention “self” or “Self” (Sylvan 1986, p.2). On the other hand, Western Deep Ecology presented itself to him as ‘an evangelic , much too incidentally coupled to deep environmentalism …’ (Sylvan 1986, p.3/4). He noted, with dismay, that Fox had suggested changing the name to transpersonal ecology, and that Devall had said Deep Ecology is concerned, above all, with discovering “an aspect of our self” that has been culturally neglected. This ‘reorientation’ Sylvan regarded as significantly at variance with Naess’s original program, 'which is ecologically focussed’, and ‘contains no allusion to self, ecological or other’ (Sylvan 1986, p.26).

Sylvan must have restricted the category of Naess’s original program to little more than his first mention of Deep Ecology (Naess 1973), for by 1977/8 Naess was routinely writing about Deep Ecology in connection with Spinoza and Mahâyâna Buddhism (Naess 1977; Naess 1978), and by 1985 he was consistently referring to the Bhagavad Gîtâ (Naess 1985a). Self-realisation features prominently in each of these bodies of thought. Nevertheless there clearly is a difference between Naess’s approach to Deep Ecology and that of Sessions, Devall, and Fox - a distinction noted by many critics aside from Sylvan.

In her book Environmentalism And Political Theory, Robyn Eckersley lists (then refutes) three major arguments against ecocentrism, an orientation that includes but also

194 goes beyond Deep Ecology; that it is impossible, misanthropic and impractical (Eckersley 1992, p.55). The literature raises other arguments, several of which might be categorised as follows: (1) Deep Ecology is confused and has lost its way (Sylvan 1986); (2) Deep Ecology is apolitical (Barry 1993; Dryzek and Lester 1989); (3) Deep Ecology is reactionary rather than revolutionary (Bradford 1987; Szerszynski 1996; van Wyck 1997); (4) Deep Ecology has little to contribute to the program of deliberative democracy (Barry 1993; Barry 1994; Dryzek 1990); (5) Deep Ecology is androcentric and fails to attack patriarchy (Cheney 1989; Plumwood 1993; Plumwood 1995); (6) Deep Ecology is unnecessary because an environmental ethic may be developed along other, less contentious lines (Barry 1999; Sylvan 1985); and finally (7) that Deep Ecology is a “totalising,” essentialist narrative which obliterates difference (Cheney 1989; Plumwood 2000; van Wyck 1997).

All these arguments could likewise be raised against Platonic thought, and largely have been. Critics would have it that Platonism represents an authoritarian, apolitical, reactionary, androcentric, and essentialist narrative which ignores difference, and has nothing to contribute to the project of democracy. It has also been described as impossible, impractical, and misanthropic - to borrow from Eckersley above. In this chapter I examine a number of these criticisms from the point of view the nondualistic doctrines under discussion.

PROBLEMS WITH THE DOCTRINE OF SELF-REALISATION

Several arguments against Deep Ecology have a bearing on its real or apparent kinship with nondualistic metaphysics, Buddhism, and Vedânta, including Sylvan’s central complaint, that in later (now dominant) variants there is more emphasis on self and Self than on environment. In his estimation, Deep Ecology was originally part of value

195 theory but has since ‘been presented as a metaphysics, as a consciousness movement … and even as a sort of (pantheistic) religion’ (Sylvan 1985, p.2).

I have already shown that Platonists make no real distinction between philosophy and religion, and that so far as they are concerned, the ultimate goal of metaphysics, philosophy, and religion is one - that is, the direct perception of God or nature, and union with that divine or absolute principle (see for example Schmitt 1966, and Urban, 1929 #1300). Under the circumstances, it is perhaps inevitable that having aligned itself along the axes of the traditions which treat of these doctrines, Deep Ecology should begin to treat eco-philosophical problems as religio-philosophical ones; or that it should be perceived to be doing so. To confuse matters, there seems to have been only a superficial engagement with Hindu, Buddhist, and Platonic metaphysics, the result being that in Deep Ecology, unassimilated elements of nondualistic religio-philosophies can be found sitting uncomfortably alongside elements of modern analytic philosophy such as value theory, with little indication if any as to how these disparate elements might be reconciled. It is therefore difficult to refute Sylvan’s judgement that the Deep Ecology theory of wider identification and Self-realisation is very poorly explained (Sylvan 1986, p.28).

In Sylvan’s view, Deep Ecology has fused three separable notions: ecological consciousness, wider identification and Self-realisation. I agree with him, and have already noted that although Self-realisation and ecological consciousness have tended to merge in Deep Ecology, traditional interpretations of the Self-realisation doctrine have not paid much attention to the human/nature relationship as such. Self-realisation and ecological consciousness should not then be conflated.

A general confusion surrounding the Deep Ecology/Perennial Philosophy connection is evident in Fox’s early work. While he was researching and writing his Ph.D. thesis, Fox wrote an article published in The Ecologist in 1984 as, ‘Deep Ecology: A New

196 Philosophy of our Time?’. The abstract stated that anyone who did not refer to ‘the parallels between Deep Ecology and the mystical traditions…’, might justifiably be accused of having missed the central intuition of Deep Ecology (Fox 1984, p.194). He described the mystical traditions in a note as follows:

Where I refer to the “mystical traditions”, Aldous Huxley uses the phrase “Perennial Philosophy”, while the neurophysiologist Roger Walsh refers to the “consciousness disciplines” … . Huxley, Walsh and I are referring to a similar, if not identical, corpus of knowledge, the authors of which are commonly referred to as “mystics” (Fox 1984, p.200).

The body of the article indicates more than a passing acquaintance with perennial or mystical philosophy (near-synonymous terms in the above quote). Fox refers to meditation and to the Vedantic adage That thou (Tat tvamasi), and draws parallels between the latter, Taoism, and Zen Buddhism (Fox 1984, p.196). Not specifically aligning himself with it, at no stage does he appear to distance himself in any way from this tradition. Nevertheless, in an e-mail response to a question of mine regarding the relationship between Deep Ecology and Perennial Philosophy, Fox pointedly remarked:

197 I do not advance, operate under, believe in, or wish to be associated with any “version of Perennial Philosophy” … (Moreover, I’m not convinced that there is a Perennial Philosophy). I was personally concerned in my TTE book [Toward A Transpersonal Ecology] - some time ago now, 1990 - with advancing a this-worldly, straight down the line scientifically informed approach to Deep Ecology (Fox 2003 c).

My question had been: I’m working on a Ph.D. … looking at the ways in which elements of the Perennial Philosophy have been incorporated into the philosophy of Deep Ecology, and how this has been received within the wider community of environmental philosophers and activists… .

This change of heart is consistent with a general vagueness about the Perennial Philosophy that has existed in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement, of which until the early 1990s Fox was a theorist.

As to wishing to advance a straight-down-the-line scientific justification for Deep Ecology, the line tended to waver in the metaphysical/spiritual direction. In Toward A Transpersonal Ecology, Fox referred to Deep Ecology as presenting ‘an ecumenical face’, while still possessing ‘a distinctive esoteric core’ (Fox 1990/1995, p.76). Such a ‘spiritual/religious metaphor is’, he said, appropriate, ‘in that .... the “esoteric core” of Deep Ecology is bound up with the psychological-spiritual-metaphysical idea of what Naess refers to as Self-realization’ (Fox 1990/1995, p.76). Further, when he quoted Devall describing Deep Ecology as being founded on a ‘metaphysical-spiritual’ basis (in Fox 1990/1995, p.332), Fox did not think to distance either himself or Deep Ecology from such associations at that time. He also took a stand against value theory, almost exclusively associating Deep Ecology with Naess’s model of Self-realisation, and his own version of the same, the wider identification thesis. In Naess’s hands, Self- realisation might have been an ultimate norm not to be taken dogmatically, but by the time this was endorsed and augmented in Toward A Transpersonal Ecology it had

198 become a distinctive and perhaps even dogmatic approach, eschewing axiology altogether (Fox 1990/1995, p.149).

Fox has since recanted his hard-line view that Deep Ecology mainly concerns itself with ontology and not with the question of values (a view expressed in Fox 1990/1995, p.150). He now regards ‘the Self- realization approach of Deep Ecology as a form of ’ (Fox 2003 a), a position outlined in Philosophy Now (Fox 2000, p.21). There, the Deep Ecology approach is still described as psychological: ‘it represents a psychological approach to the question of our relationship with the world around us’, and it is still, ‘primarily concerned with our way of being in the world, with the qualities of character that make us who we are’ (Fox 2000, p.22). Yet virtue ethics is no longer treated as antithetical to the Deep Ecology approach, a development which strikes me as promising.

Self-realisation is one of the themes of Deep Ecology that Sylvan would like to have seen abandoned altogether (Sylvan 1985, p.49). He was equally critical of Deep Ecology’s ‘extreme holism and cosmic identity’ 36 (Sylvan 1985, p.49). “Cosmic identity” is Sylvan’s not very apt phrase for what appears to be a conflation, by him, of the cosmological perspective and the ethos of biospherical egalitarianism, evident in the literature of the Deep Ecology movement. What Sylvan meant by cosmic identity he demonstrated with recourse to an oft-quoted statement made by Deep Ecology theorist and activist John Seed, when giving his reasons for defending intact rainforests: ‘Since I am the forest, the destruction of the forest is the destruction of me so, as a matter of self-interest, I resist the destruction’ (Seed 1985). To Sylvan, this has some ‘worthwhile applications’, however:

36 Fox’s able defence of this charge was as follows: ‘It is clear from his interpretation that he takes Naess and myself to be denying even relative autonomy to “things in the world,” whereas it should be clear from the immediate context of our remarks that what is being denied is absolute autonomy’ (Fox 1989, p14). This is an important distinction, relevant at more than one juncture in the present dissertation.

199 [T]he theme also has bizarre consequences. Since I am the forest, I cover several acres and comprise many mossy trees, but cannot significantly have, as I do have, a face or feet. Since you and I are one with the planet, and you thin and I fat, you are both fat and thin, old and young. And so on (Sylvan 1985, p.48).

It is perhaps needless to say that the above is a bizarre consequence of Sylvan’s thought processes, rather than of deep ecological reasoning. Vagueness on the part of Deep Ecology may have left it open to such retorts, but nowhere is it implied in the literature of either Deep Ecology or Platonism or Vedânta that an identification with either the One or the Many involves an identity or indistinguishability of form.37 True unity is considered to exist in a noumenal unitive dimension; the empirical world remains the field of multiplicity.

Barry and Dryzek share Sylvan’s abhorrence of the religious or psycho-spiritual orientation of Deep Ecology (Barry 1993; Dryzek 1990). Among other things discussed below, Jim Cheney also takes issue with the manner in which he believes Fox treated Naess’s norms of biocentric egalitarianism and Self-realisation as, ‘effectively a spiritual discipline’ (Cheney 1989, p.296). I would argue that although subsequent theorists may have gone further than Naess in treating Self-realisation in spiritual or religious terms, once he had introduced the doctrine of Self-realisation via the philosophy of M. K. Gandhi, the Bhagavad Gîtâ and Spinoza, Naess had already plunged Deep Ecology into a stream with very strong spiritual and other-worldly currents. Whatever Naess’s intentions may have been, in its parent traditions the doctrine of Self-realisation has always implied a spiritual orientation and discipline.

37 Although admittedly, unfortunate mistakes can be made. Peter van Wyck picked up on a nonsense in Fox’s statement that, ‘to the extent that we perceive boundaries, we fall short of deep ecological consciousness’. Van Wyck wondered whether Fox actually meant reify rather than perceive boundaries, suggesting that if we actually fail to perceive boundaries, ‘we slip into madness’ (van Wyck 1997, p.143). He compared Fox’s version of ecological consciousness, thus stated, to a condition known as psychaesthenia, in which the sufferer is incapable of delimiting his or her own body, eventually to vanish as a distinct entity.

200

There are other problems with the doctrine of Self-realisation as expounded in Deep Ecology, one of which casts doubt on the applicability of Self-realisation as an ethical norm under any interpretation. I refer to Katz’s assertion that Self-realisation is decidedly anthropocentric in its implications, ‘at least in Naess’s formulation’ (Katz 2000, p.33). Katz bases his argument on the fact that preservation of the natural world is being justified on the assumption of a self-realising universe, a notion he regards as anthropocentric (Katz 2000, p.34). Contrary to Katz’s argument, however, it may be pointed out that neither Naess, Mathews, nor Spinoza have treated Self-realisation (with or without the capital S) as a human projection; rather, they view Self-realisation as a cosmic process in which all living beings and the cosmos itself take part (I leave “living” undefined in the present context). Furthermore, in traditional systems, Self- realisation is regarded as a process that takes place in a state of consciousness in which much of what we identify as “human” is negated or transcended; including linear thought, societal conditioning, egoism, self-aggrandisement, all attachments, and everything else that makes up the empirical self. On both these accounts I would argue that Self-realisation should not be treated as an anthropocentric doctrine.

Traditionally viewed, Self-realisation involves a process of ceasing to identify with the body and the mind, with all that is normally considered to be human - that is, the self, as distinct from the Self. Taoist, Buddhist, and Hindu systems have concerned themselves with a number of related doctrines as well; with each given an impersonal, non- anthropocentric gloss. Among these are “selfless action” in the Bhagavad Gîtâ, “Right Action” as encountered in the Noble Eightfold Path of Mahâyâna Buddhism, and wei (action that is non-action) which features in some Taoist traditions.

It is a common conception that Deep Ecology has hardly at all addressed matters of policy (Katz 2000, p.37). But there are versions other than the Self-realisation approach, which are more engaged in the policy arena. A good example of an

201 alternative Deep Ecology approach, perhaps more in keeping with Naess’s original program, is the work of Harold Glasser who has been engaged in the translation of Naess’s complete works. Glasser’s attitude gives some indication of the way in which Deep Ecology might have evolved, had it not been derailed (as Sylvan has argued) by the psycho-spiritual approach of Fox and Sessions. Glasser sees Naess’s approach as: ‘helping individuals to develop more thoroughly reasoned, well-informed and consistent policy positions’ (Glasser 1996, p.158). This variant of Deep Ecology reflects the logical/ecological Naess rather than the psychological/ecological Sessions, Devall and Fox.

In the following statements, Glasser reflects the original Naessian Deep Ecology approach:

Although some will certainly take issue with the core premise underlying this goal; namely that thoroughly reasoned and consistent policy positions do lead to better policies, they should also take care to consider the indirect procedural benefits that may result from pursuing such a decision strategy (Glasser 1996, p.158).

202

The significance of Naess’s deep/shallow distinction rests not so much on the character of particular “deep” solutions, as on the fact that fundamental questions are taken seriously and raised, that the underlying and inter-linked causes are sought out, and that seemingly radical responses to surmounting the environmental crises are thoughtfully considered (Glasser 1996, p.166).

There is no mention of the Self and no reference to states of mind: simply policy positions carefully reasoned and cognisant of interlinked underlying causes (and in that sense “deep”). The above statements appear to be free of the Deep Ecology that has so irked Dryzek, Barry and Sylvan. Glasser is even able to draw a credible link between the Deep Ecology approach (as he has encountered it) and NEPA, the National Environmental Policy Act (Glasser 1996, p.170).

DEEP ECOLOGY RIDES ROUGH-SHOD OVER “DIFFERENCE”

Not only is Deep Ecology widely regarded as politically ineffective, as will be shown in the section following this, it has also been accused of political incorrectness in that it fails to respect difference. Jim Cheney teaches philosophy at the University of Wisconsin -Waukesha and is co-director of its Wilderness University Program. In his paper, ‘The Neo- of Radical Environmentalism’, Cheney takes issue with what he says Sessions and Devall have treated as the fundamentals of Deep Ecology, especially: (1) the so-called central intuition, ‘that we can make no firm ontological divide in the field of existence’; and (2) the “ultimate norms” of biocentric equality and Self-realization, the latter being treated by Fox as ‘effectively a spiritual discipline’ (Cheney 1989, p.296).

203 Cheney’s quarrel is not with the Deep Ecology platform but with the status of the “fundamentals” from which the platform is said to derive, the various religions and alternative Western philosophical traditions (Cheney 1989, p.296). His quarrel is not with Naess’s formulation, but with statements made by Devall, Sessions, and Fox about the “central intuition” of Deep Ecology, statements which, in his view, serve to colonise various traditions. As Cheney sees it, Deep Ecology as portrayed by Fox results in ‘a metaphysics claiming to be a privileged account of the experiences underlying a great multiplicity of widely differing voices’ (Cheney 1989, p.298). He highlights the manner in which Fox described the , American Indian, and Buddhist experience of the world as, ‘experiencing oneself as bound up with the rest of the world versus separate and alienated from it’ (Cheney 1989, p.297). This experience Fox then equated with his version of ecological consciousness: ‘the self is as comprehensive as the totality of our identifications’. According to Cheney, this sleight of hand had the effect of equating American Indian, ancient Greek, and Buddhist insights with Fox’s views on Self-realisation. Cheney argues that this approach is not only spurious, but also contrary to Naess’s original as it compromises the creation of a broad-based Deep Ecology movement (Cheney 1989, p.298).

Cheney also argues that perennial philosophy is “bootstrapped” to eternity, and divorced from the realm of discourse (Cheney 1989, p.307). His paper is a deep feminist critique of Deep Ecology, treating Deep Ecology as an essentialist and “totalising” narrative. The Self-realisation approach, he argues: ‘conceives of correct environmental practice as involving, in some fundamental way, an understanding of the cosmos and humanity’s place in the wider scheme of things’ (Cheney 1989, p.298). This suggests to Cheney that:

[A]lienation is to be overcome by, of all things, metaphysics, by the empathic internalization of a highly abstract, humanly constructed vision of wholeness, connectedness, and health … (Cheney 1989, p.301).

204 I regard this as a misreading of the Deep Ecology approach, to some extent at least, and perhaps also a misunderstanding of nondualistic metaphysics. Neither theorists associated with Deep Ecology, nor with Plato or the Upanishads, have claimed that alienation is to be overcome by metaphysics - that is by words and by thoughts - or by the vision of wholeness; if vision is taken to mean a , an image, a belief, or some other construct of thought. Instead, Deep Ecology has implied, and nondualistic metaphysics has affirmed, that alienation is overcome by wholeness itself and nothing short of wholeness; not by theories of wholeness, visions of wholeness, wishful projections of wholeness, but by the lived experience of wholeness (or unity). Alienation or separateness is to be overcome by Self-realisation, and not by abstraction, analysis, or positive thinking. The difference between the word and the thing can be subtle, but it is thorough.

Bergson’s understanding of intuitive perception raises the possibility that analysis, discursive reason, and presumably also the expanded form of communicative rationality envisaged by Dryzek and others will always “interpret” reality, translating it into symbols that speak to and from a particular conditioned point of view. It also raises the possibility that Deep Ecology, in its advocacy of Self-realisation, is not projecting a false type of unity and enslaving us in yet another hegemonic narrative, as Plumwood has supposed; at least not necessarily so; because the unity of Platonic and Upanishadic thought is not a mental projection, but rather is seen when all mental constructions are in abeyance (the citta-vritti-nirodhah of Yoga).

Self-realisation, as a matter of direct perception, does not superimpose itself on reality or project qualities it describes as wholeness or unity; it is a state of mind in which one sees things in their unitive aspect, or “as they are,” as the Vedânta would have it. In fact it is discursive reason and analysis that will always project things external to the thing itself. As Bergson indicates, analysis is a reductive process involving translation, projection, and comparison. That being the case, it could be argued that reason can do

205 nothing but yield a totalising narrative, a narrative superimposing itself on what is. Presumably that holds for the dialogical difference-conscious idiom of ecofeminism, as much as for the most intransigent forms of instrumental reason. Of course this makes no distinction at all between the general process of thinking, which always involves analysis and interpretation, and a type of thinking that is specifically hegemonic. Plainly there is a difference. Yet by the same token, there is a clear (and unacknowledged) difference between the assumption of unity and the experience of unity, a distinction Plumwood and Cheney seem to have ignored.

Quantum physics, ecology, and process metaphysics can each be understood to imply that wholeness and interconnectedness are facts in nature. In these systems, wholeness is not seen as a mental construct but as the truth about reality (see for example Bohm 1980/1997, p.7). At least that is true for what is known as the ontological interpretation of quantum theory. Some readings of the Copenhagen interpretation almost suggest that quantum theory does not apply to reality at all. Furthermore, for millennia the mystical traditions have affirmed the primacy of wholeness in the field of consciousness, a view now supported by contemporary consciousness research (for example Clarke 1995; Combs 1993; Combs and Krippner 1999; Forman 1994; Forman 1998 a; Grof 1998; Woodhouse 1990). The mental projection of wholeness is altogether another matter.

Cheney raises another perhaps more serious problem with the Self-realisation approach, that it is ‘insulated from contextual negotiation’ (Cheney 1989, p.305). This argument can be traced back to Popper’s two-volume testament to the piecemeal methods of the open society, The Open Society And Its Enemies, in which negotiation features prominently (Popper 1945/1952; Popper 1945/1984). According to Cheney, the “inner voice” that is to be trusted in Deep Ecology is one that has been purified by elimination of ‘self-centered thoughts’, and ‘bootstrapped to a new level of veridicality’ (Cheney 1989, p.306). It appears to Cheney that in this system, ‘connectedness is achieved by assimilation of the other by means of a totalizing discourse’, the imposition of unity; a

206 process which he says colonises other people and other minds (Cheney 1989, p.310). Thus, the Self-realisation approach of Deep Ecology results, he argues, in a pseudo- connectedness, ‘which subsumes (rather than hears) the voice of the other’ (Cheney 1989, p.310). This strikes me as just so much word play. In the one breath he says that Deep Ecology is to achieve “connectedness” by the imposition of unity, and the colonising of other minds; and that the “coloniser” is also been engaged in the elimination of self-centred thoughts. If self-centred thoughts were to be eliminated, however, there would be nothing to impose on another and no “ego” to do the imposing. It all sounds very politically correct but does not read as an argument based on an understanding of nonduality.

Cheney believes that the proper context for addressing ecological problems is ‘the project of the elimination of all oppression’, a project in which dialogue and negotiation are fundamental (Cheney 1989, p.316). He asks what are the politics behind the view that:

[W]e can make no firm ontological divide in the field of existence … as opposed, say, to the politics at work behind the view that …… there is no bifurcation in reality between white, middle-class environmentalists and the residents of Spanish barrios or black ghettoes? … Might we listen with the same ear to the residents of Harlem (or to the corporate executives engaged in the destruction of old-growth forests) with which we listen to the voices of a tall-grass prairie in southern Wisconsin? (Cheney 1989, p.317).

It seems to me that the pertinent question is how best to cultivate the capacity for listening, period; surely the listener hears whoever/whatever is communicating. If we do not listen with the same ear to the corporate executive, the resident of Harlem, and the tall-grass prairie then the Bhagavad Gîtâ, for one, might question whether we are listening at all. And so might the Deep Ecology approach, judging from Naess’s endorsement of the statement, “He whose self is harmonized by yoga seeth the Self

207 abiding in all beings and all beings in Self; everywhere he sees the same” (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.125), which surely would also mean: everywhere he listens the same.

As shown earlier, the Gîtâ characterises the sage as one who ‘sees with an equal eye, a learned and humble brâhmin, a cow, an elephant, or even a dog, or an outcaste’ (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.121). To Cheney’s question “what are the politics behind this view” I am forced to answer that there may be no politics behind this view, and possibly none directly generated by it either. But that is not to say that the cultivation of the capacity for listening, without judgement and without , has no role in the civil life of modern democracies. Indeed, as discussed in chapter 6, the creation of an ecologically enlightened culture may depend on communication across the overworked and exhausted divisions of Cheney’s example. Furthermore, the notion of seeing with an equal eye, in the manner described in the Bhagavad Gîtâ and the Yoga Sûtras, is a product of a worldview and a state of mind which prominently feature tolerance towards all but the intolerant (to borrow from Popper), simplicity of life, and compassion. The Gîtâ and the Yoga Sûtras hold that it is not possible to see with an equal eye, unless one has overcome (by understanding) the cause of all intolerance, excess, and selfishness. Therefore, although there may be no politics specifically behind this view, every aspect of life is implicated including the political. As Plato suggested, when there is integration within, there is justice without.

POPPER AND PLUMWOOD ON UNITY

Along similar lines to that of Cheney, Plumwood criticises the ‘unity of interests model’, favoured by Deep Ecology authors such as Naess and Fox (Plumwood 1993, chapter 7). In Feminism and the Mastery of Nature, as in subsequent work, Plumwood argues that Naess does not sufficiently engage with ‘the leading concept of solidarity’,

208 ultimately relying on ‘sameness and identity as the basis of the respect relationship’ (Plumwood 2000, p.61). As I understand it, it is not quite correct to say that Naess relies on identity as the basis of respect, certainly not as the basis for his own respect of nature. Rather, what appears to be the case is that Naess, feeling such respect, goes on to argue the case for respect on the basis of identity (but not sameness). Identification, he said, is a spontaneous response not a reasoned one. It is then given justification in various ways. Numerous times has he stated that the eight point platform can be derived from or justified on the basis of many different religious, spiritual, and secular orientations. What he hopes, and what Deep Ecology as a system relies on, is that each of us works out our own justification for the defence of nature.

Whether or not her critique of Naess is fully justified, Plumwood presents a strong case for an environmental ethic that provides an affirmation of both continuity and difference between humans and nature, whichever may be appropriate to the context (Plumwood 2000, p.64). She argues that Deep Ecology stresses continuity or unity, and thereby attempts to redress the ‘hyperseparation’ that characterises our culture, but it neglects an equally pernicious trend:

that further part of the colonizing dynamic that seeks to assimilate and instrumentalize the other, recognizing them and valuing them only as a part of self, alike to self, or as means to self’s ends (Plumwood 2000, p.64).

For Plumwood, affirming continuity should not require the assumption of identity (Plumwood 2000, p.64). Thus, the appropriate ethic of eco-activism should be solidarity rather than identity: ‘standing with the other in a supportive relationship in the political sense’ (Plumwood 2000, p.66). Plausible as this seems, I wonder whether, when looked at closely, the basis of “continuity” is not some form of identity after all, as it is in the Hua-Yen image of the Jewel Net and the Platonic theory of successive emanations. What is it that is “continuous” if not each individual’s internal relationship with the

209 One, or with the totality? We are all equal but not identical analogies or microcosms of the whole.

Plumwood goes on to argue that in the absence of ‘a critical analysis of power’ assumptions of unity are ‘liable to hegemonic interpretations’ (Plumwood 2000, p.67). That is doubtless true, and is a point raised by Popper, in effect, in his accusation that Plato, in contrast to Socrates, defined a philosopher not as, ‘the devoted seeker of wisdom, but its proud possessor’ (Popper 1945/1952, p.144). In Popper’s reading, Plato’s philosopher is more the adept than the aspirant; he has arrived and he knows truly. In Popper’s work, assumptions of intellectual intuition rather than of unity are given a hegemonic interpretation; Plato’s philosopher is ‘a lover and a seer of the divine world of Forms or Ideas’ (Popper 1945/1952, p.145). The effect, however, is the same. The philosopher becomes the prophet and ; the ones who do not see must do as they are told. Popper goes so far as to accuse Plato of referring to himself when writing of the philosopher/king (Popper 1945/1952, p.152/283). My refutation of this accusation can be found in chapter 3, in the argument that Plato should be seen chiefly as a philosopher not as a politician.

Plumwood’s notion that mutual adjustment, communication, and negotiation are the key to establishing ‘mutualistic ethical relationships’ (Plumwood 2000, p.66), also finds an early counterpart in Popper’s thought. In The Open Society mutual adjustment, negotiation, and communication are central; on the understanding that norms are human constructs subject to negotiation. The standards are not be found fixed in nature, or in a utopian ideal, or in a vision of wholeness - but in our imperfect selves (Popper 1945/1952, p.61).

In Popper’s view, the difference between utopian social engineering and the piecemeal methods of social reform characteristic of the open society:

210 … is the difference between a reasonable method of improving the lot of man, and a method which, if really tried, may easily lead to an intolerable increase in human suffering. It is the difference between a method which can be applied at any moment, and a method whose advocacy may easily become a means of continually postponing action until a later date … . And it is also the difference between the only method of improving matters which has so far been really successful … and a method which, wherever it has been tried, has led only to the use of violence in place of reason … (Popper 1945/1952, p.158).

Like Cheney, Peter Van Wyck argues that ‘Deep Ecology can all too easily amount to an ecological ’, with all other discourses being silenced (van Wyck 1997, p.12). And reminiscent of Popper, he avers:

The strategy of depth is always one of going beyond, of overcoming, of finding something more fundamental, more essential. Like theology, depth attempts to set the record straight, to replace error with truth, and in so doing, seeks to recover a lost authenticity (van Wyck 1997, p.13).

This for van Wyck, is the ‘ultimate melding of ideology and - we are all one’ (van Wyck 1997, p.76).

Along similar lines, Popper argued that Plato believed the task of knowledge to be the description of the true nature of things, based on the assumption that ‘the essence of sensible things can be found in other and more real things - in their primogenitors or Forms’ (Popper 1945/1952, p.31). Popper classified this trait as methodological essentialism, a phrase which resonates with contemporary cries of outrage against the essentialism of Deep Ecology. In the foregoing, van Wyck describes the strategy of depth as one of setting the record straight, replacing error with truth and recovering authenticity. Plato taught that the changing world is an illusion and that there is something more fundamental (and more authentic) that does not change (Popper 1945/1952, p.14). It was on this assumption that Plato based his notion of the ideal

211 State, in which change, seen as a corruption of the Idea, was arrested (Popper 1945/1952, p.21).

Naess’s response to critiques of essentialism and might be given in his words as follows:

If a person argues on the basis of a kind of personal life philosophy, it does not imply that this person pretends that his or her basic, or “fundamental”, views are absolutely certain and authoritative. On the contrary. … going deep from the point of view of premise/conclusion relations … does not imply absolutism and dogmatism. There is a tendency among some of those who favour a “postmodern” terminology to associate deepness of argumentation with “” in an odious sense. This is unfortunate (Naess 1996, p.115).

My response, as indicated above and further explained later, is to distinguish between a false unity that is imposed, and an intrinsic unity that is perceived by a mind free of the affects, passions or klesas (psychological hindrances).

DEEP ECOLOGY HAS NOTHING TO CONTRIBUTE TO THE PROJECT OF DELIBERATIVE DEMOCRACY: OR HAS IT?

As pointed out in chapter 2, the Deep Ecology approach has been challenged on many accounts, not the least of which is its perceived idealism and emphasis on psycho- spiritual transformation. The portrayal of Deep Ecology as a new perennial philosophy leaves it prone to the suspicion that it may share with Platonism the ultimate goal of union with God, nature, or the Absolute, and an ethic that is chiefly concerned with realising that union. If only because of the unlikelihood of success, this seems to be a highly unsuitable foundation on which to erect an environmental ethic. Added to that,

212 there is always the possibility of monistic doctrines being co-opted by totalitarian or essentialist systems.

I should point out that no theorist associated with Deep Ecology has stated the goal of Deep Ecology in terms of union with the Absolute or anything of the kind, but based on the implications of adopting Self-realisation as an ultimate norm, and on the metaphysical orientation of the Deep Ecology approach, a number of political scientists have accused Deep Ecology of spiritual totalitarianism. Certainly Barry has done so (Barry 1999, p.201), as has Dryzek, in connection with his program for an expanded model of communicative rationality or communicative ethics.

Rather than the cultivation of ecological “selves” or the creation of a new humanity of intuition, Barry suggests that what is required is the creation of a truly democratic society, a culture of democracy (Barry 1999, p.207). In support of his argument, he shows that the communicative or deliberative model of democracy is well supported in eco-political literature. It is already the case, he writes, that the deliberative model, ‘stresses the “community” over the “market” or the “state” as the appropriate location for first-order decisions concerning social-environmental relations’ (Barry 1999, p.215). Ulrich Beck is quoted in support of the view that many decisions affecting the environment belong in parliament:

The demand is that the consequences and organizational freedom of action of microelectronics or genetic technology belong in parliament before the fundamental decisions on their application have been taken (quoted in Barry 1999, p.202).

This is a view with which Deep Ecology theorists have no quarrel. Naess gives several examples from history of decisions taken against proposals of new technology, arguing that:

213 Those who maintain that technological development must run its course whether we like it or not are mistaken both historically and empirically. Why didn’t the advanced technical inventiveness of old change the social structure, for example? A society is capable of rejecting a more “advanced” or “higher” technique on account of its social and other consequences. The Chinese rejected banking and certain agricultural tools for this very reason. A lack of critical evaluation of technique is the harbinger of a society’s dissolution. A technique has to be culturally tested (Naess 1989, p.94).

Be that as it may, Barry suggests that the interests of the natural world and of future human generations can be brought to bear on the public sphere without the various forms of identification enjoined by Deep Ecology. The interests of future generations and the non-human natural world can be included in the democratic process by representative forms of democracy (Barry 1999, p.221). As he argues:

Even without separate representative measures, the interests of these groups can be brought to bear if there are citizens who incorporate and consider their interests in making decisions and / or are willing to defend these interests publicly in an attempt to persuade fellow citizens to think likewise … any interest can be brought to bear and have an effect on the democratic process (Barry 1999, p.221).

Popper pointed out that, in the 1940s, the open society was still in its infancy (Popper 1945/1952, p.175). Barry and others now suggest that the next stage might be the further development of deliberative democratic institutions, such as citizen’s juries, community participation in local government decision-making, environmental mediation, public inquiries, the Agenda 21 process and so on (Barry 1999, p.216). In consonance with critical communications theorists, Barry argues, further, that citizens are more likely to take the “public good” into consideration in deliberative or communicative contexts in which they are exposed to a wide range of views, and in which standards of communicative rationality apply (Barry 1999, p.217). These standards are listed by

214 Dryzek as including equality, noncoercion, and truthfulness (Dryzek 1990, p.204). And although he admits that Habermas’s notion of communicative rationality is anthropocentric, and that it denies all worth to nature (borrowing here from Joel Whitebook , Dryzek 1990, p.203), Dryzek nonetheless believes that communicative rationality can be expanded to take nature into account by supplementing it with ecological principles such as homeostasis and resilience that ‘would always be applied, debated, redeemed, or rejected’ (Dryzek 1990, p.204). Too bad for nature if the communicative process rejects ecological principles. In response to critical communications theorists who point out that this imposes an external and substantive pre-judgement (or agenda) onto human discourse, Dryzek points out that nature is always ‘a silent participant’ in human discourse, because communication takes place in an ecological system and not in a vacuum (Dryzek 1990, p.204/5).

In ‘Green Reason: Communicative Ethics for the Biosphere’, Dryzek posits a form of communicative rationality that attempts to incorporate the natural world into the discourse community, or at least expand Habermas’s notion of communicative rationality, which was concerned only with intrahuman relations. For Dryzek, this is enough to address the potential undermining of ethics by instrumental reason: a form of reason, that he maintains has survived intact, despite the vociferous criticisms of animal rights activists, ecofeminists, followers of Heidegger, and those in sympathy with Deep Ecology (Dryzek 1990, p.195/6). Dryzek argues that ‘Reason too can be green’:

There is no need here for mystical notions about spiritual communication with nature. Immersion in the world can be a thoroughly rational affair, provided we expand our notion of rationality in the appropriate directions (Dryzek 1990, p.210).

A CRITIQUE OF GREEN REASON

215 By way of counterargument to Dryzek’s thesis, I propose that in discussions of the potential totalitarianism of the Self-realisation approach, an important distinction must be made between nondualistic doctrines and the “idea” of unity on the one hand, and unity or wholeness itself on the other. As already pointed out, the difference is that between the word and the thing; between the imposition of unity, or the image of unity, and unity itself. And by way of counterargument to the Dryzek and Barry thesis, I would like to question whether reason can ever be really Green (in the sense of ecologically aware, or integrated with the environment), and whether a Green “identity” is little more than window-dressing.

In Wholeness and the Implicate Order, and in Changing Consciousness, Bohm makes a distinction between false and true unity in his discussion of “fragmentation,” a word he feels aptly describes the individual and society today. The verb “fragment,” he points out, means to smash or to break up - not to divide, as might be assumed. Thus, he explains, if you carefully take apart a watch you divide it, and you could then put it back together again because the parts of that watch make up the whole. On the other hand, if you smash it with a hammer it fragments and cannot be reassembled.

In terms of society and the individual psyche, Bohm argues that false division and false unity have resulted in the fragmentation of society (Bohm and Edwards 1991, p.6). The example he gives is of a nation, which he believes is never really united. A nation is a social construct, an arbitrary division, a fragment of what is really a whole (humanity). There is also conflict within each nation: ‘So it is a fiction that any nation is united and that one nation is sharply distinct from another’ (Bohm and Edwards 1991, p.6). Bohm points out that in response to fragmentation:

What is called for is not an integration of thought, or a kind of imposed unity, for any such imposed point of view would itself be merely another fragment (Bohm 1980/1997, p.7).

216

On the contrary, the fragmentation of thought is to be overcome by insight into the nature of thought. In Bohm’s view: ‘all our different ways of thinking are to be considered as different ways of looking at the one reality, each with some domain in which it is clear and adequate’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.8). This is consistent with the Upanishadic and Buddhist view that thought, or the empirical self, is always limited and can never be “whole,” infinite, or free; it is always a point of view. According to the âtman doctrine, freedom, wholeness, and infiniteness are qualities of the universally diffused Self, the innermost essence of the human being (and of every atom); false divisions and fragmentary ways of thinking must be given up in order for the Self to be revealed. In both Bohm and Vedânta, not to forget Spinoza, this is a way or approach involving awareness and negation; the false being negated, rather than the “true” being imposed or affirmed.

There is a contradiction inherent in Green reason that is evident in Dryzek’s call for an expanded ‘notion of rationality’ that would achieve an immersion in the world without recourse to any type of ‘spiritual communication with nature’. With this proposal, he seems to imply that we are to be saved by a new notion of rationality. What Vedânta, Buddhism, and now Bohm have suggested is that the colour, shape, and texture of our “notions” have very little to do with whether or not we are fully present in the world, or relating with the world (rather than our ideas of it). Thought by its nature is an abstraction; the empirical self is, by definition, alienated from the world. It appears to be doubtful, then, that a new notion of rationality could, unaided, lead to our immersion in the world unless that notion were to throw light on the thought processes which alienate us from the world. Not reason, but intellectus, insight, or intuition have been defined in ways that indicate an immersion in the world, a communion with “what is”. Consequently I maintain that ethics (Green or otherwise) would be undermined by thought even if outright instrumental reason was kept in check.

217 In his work on world risk society, Beck proposed a framework for the sociological analysis of environmental or ecological problems: ‘a conceptual framework which allows us to grasp them as problems not of the environment or surrounding world, but of the inner world of society’ (Beck 1996, p.1). This seems to be a development of the insight of the 1970s that there exists a class of problems for which there is no (solely) technical solution, and that “the environment” is one such problem. However, Beck’s statement opens a door to the possibility that there might be a further step to take in this direction inwards, another level of causation beneath the social construction of discourse coalitions that, for him, represents the “inner” world of society. There might be some other (more) interior dimension to this problem which analysis has so far overlooked, the central hub of which the ecological problem and its social construction are effects. So far as Bohm is concerned, that central hub is thought itself, not specific trains of thought. In this he is at one with the metaphysics, psychology, and ethics of the Upanishads and the Yoga Sûtras.

One serious problem with Barry’s notion of Green citizenship is that rejection of ecological principles, or adoption of ecologically destructive proposals, would always be a possibility. As Barry explains:

The view of green citizenship developed here, while stressing the importance of duties and obligations, is not premised on non-humans having rights … The emphasis on rights talk within green moral theory expresses a proprietarian view of morality which is problematic (Barry 1999, p.234).

It does appear to be premised on non-humans having a voice, however, which amounts to much the same thing, except that the voice, once noticed, is free to be ignored. As Barry is forced to admit:

While there is a greater chance that the quality of social-environmental decisions will be better in terms of ecological rationality under

218 deliberative democratic conditions than under liberal democracy … there is no guarantee of this (Barry 1999, p.232).

The problem with discursive democracy, then, is that there are no guarantees of its attentiveness to the environment, as is evident from the cultural politics perspective as analysed by Maarten Hajer:

[T]he ecological crisis would, potentially, be put upside down: the debate would no longer be on the protection of nature but would focus on the choice of what sort of nature and society we want … once the of, say, the biospheric discourse has exposed its naturalist and realist assumptions, the debate might take a different turn. If people have become aware of the political and economic motivations behind biospherical discourse, and have come to grips with the backgrounds of their own … the debate would no longer necessarily focus on environmental matters… (Hajer 1996, p.259).

This speaks to one of the central arguments informing the Deep Ecology doctrine of ecological consciousness, that it takes more than “doctrines” to sustain the focus on environmental matters. In the absence of any guarantees that might result from an increase in Self-realisation, or the cultivation of ecological consciousness, in the perspective of cultural politics the protection of nature shifts to the periphery, having been supplanted by the freedom of choice, or the freedom to negotiate the form and content of society.

OF WHAT USE IS A GREEN IDENTITY?

It might be recalled that in Environmentalism and Political Theory, Eckersley suggested that we have entered a third wave of environmental concern in which the need for cultural change is implicit. It was at this stage that the long-range Deep Ecology

219 movement was born. Eder and others, however, suggested that we have already entered a period in which insistent calls for sociocultural change have been stifled (Eder 1996). It has been argued by a number of sociologists, including Hajer, Eder, and Szerszynski that environmentalism has been co-opted, with the result that Deep Ecology, conservation, and political ecology ‘are today struggling for survival in public discourse’ (Eder 1996, p.206). They argue that the greening of technologically developed modern societies has resulted in environmentalism becoming part and parcel of mainstream public discourse. As a consequence, environmental discourse has lost its distinctiveness, and lost its bite. It is against this background, I believe, that emerging doctrines of communicative rationality should be evaluated. They need to be assessed alongside the possibility that ecological discourse has already been co-opted, and against the technocracy critique which challenges the assumption that our ‘dominant institutions can learn’ (Hajer 1996, p.254).

Eder argues that environmentalism is now the “masterframe” in public discourse, addressed by eco-activists and ‘non-protest actors’ alike (Eder 1996, p.206/7). He refers to this stage as post-environmentalism, and believes that it represents the end of environmentalism as a ‘counterdiscourse’ (Eder 1996, p.207). As far as Eder is concerned, a Green identity has become a ‘symbolic asset that contributes to the further individualisation of the self in modern society’ (Eder 1996, p.209). If the Greening of society in the post-environmental phase entails ‘further individualisation’, as Eder suggests, then it would seem logical to propose that post-environmentalism entails the eclipse of Deep Ecology and other eco-philosophies which posit as fundamental some form of wholeness, unity, solidarity, or identity that de-emphasise the individualisation of the isolated atomic self.

Individualisation need not entail isolation or alienation, but in the development of modern Western society atomic conceptions of the self have gone hand-in-hand with increasing individualisation. If the atomic self equals the individual then

220 individualisation must be the antithesis of the sense of community, and of the continuity, unity, and solidarity spoken of in eco-philosophical literature. It would therefore seem to be the case that a Green identity, in the sense spoken of by Eder, would have an effect opposite to that of ecological consciousness. A Green identity would be more likely to mask an alienation from nature than to erode or challenge it, and the same is likely to be true of assumptions of Green reason. According to Eder, environmentalism began as an attack on the legitimacy of social and political institutions, but as ecological discourse has become the new masterframe those very institutions have been re-legitimised (Eder 1996, p.210). In his view, Deep Ecology has become integrated into the mainstream, and effectively emasculated in the process (Eder 1996, p.216). I believe that assumptions of a Green identity and of Green reason aid and accompany the cooption of ecological discourse.

Hajer has noted a break from the radical tendencies of the 1970s, when the prevailing mood seemed to have been that only through social change would the ecological crisis be averted. As recalled in chapter 2, this was the era that witnessed the publishing sensation of The Limits to Growth, and the wide appeal of Garret Hardin’s essay, ‘The Tragedy of the Commons’, whose critique of the technological fix was to resonate through the literature of the environmental movement for decades to come. As Hajer sees it, the present mood reflects quite a different belief: that ‘economic growth and the resolution of ecological problems can, in principle, be reconciled’ (Hajer 1996). In the 1970s and early 1980s, writes Hajer, the radical Green movement argued that the ecological crisis would only be overcome if society moved away from industrial modernity. In contrast, the new trend towards ecological modernisation:

starts from the conviction that the ecological crisis can be overcome by technical and procedural innovation … [indeed] it makes the “ecological deficiency” of industrial society into the driving force for a new round of industrial innovation. As before, society has to modernise itself out of

221 the crisis … environmental damage … is the new impetus for growth (Hajer 1996, p.248/99).

For Hajer, the ascension of ecological modernisation as a dominant doctrine in public discourse is evident in the World Bank’s ‘ecomodernist stand’, and the general acceptance of Agenda 21 (Hajer 1996, p.249/52). To Hajer, these trends foretell the potential marginalisation of deeper ecological concerns, not the flowering of eco- enlightenment.

Szerszynski has also remarked on the demise of radicalism in environmental discourse, noting that in the early days environmentalism inspired the development of ‘alternative cosmologies’, and ‘counter-systemic utopian experiments’, but now it speaks in the language of the economy (Szerszynski 1996, p.105). Szerszynski accepts that ‘romanticist discourses’ (such as Deep Ecology) still have relevance and continue to flourish, but in the main he agrees with Hajer and Eder that the radical phase has passed and the issue been ‘taken off the streets’ (Hajer 1996, p.251).

The technocracy and post-environmental critique outlined above would seem to cast some doubt on the prospects of communicative rationality incorporating nature or the biosphere. If a Green identity has become a (merely) symbolic or nominal asset, the latest accessory, then what is to prevent nature from being objectified, colonised and exploited under the guise of a deliberative democracy that has expanded to include nature as a silent partner in dialogue? A silent voice is always open to exploitation.

An expanded form of communicative rationality has been proposed as a sounder, more reasonable approach, than that of Deep Ecology with its insistence on ecological consciousness and Self-realisation. Dryzek argues that ‘although the right kind of spirituality may be one answer ... the right kind of rationality is a better one’ (Dryzek 1990, p.199). Not defining the word “spiritual” enables Dryzek to state his view, without

222 justifying it in any way, that the ‘emphasis on spirit’ is ‘regressive’. Nowhere does he define spirituality or elaborate on the ‘right kind’, but instead conflates spirituality and holistic thinking with totalitarianism (Dryzek 1990, p.200). Had he attempted to define spirituality, admittedly not an easy task, Dryzek might not have been able to remark that spirituality cannot speak to the differences between a Nuremburg rally and an earth ceremony, which is patently not true. Numerous examples can be found in the Hermetic philosophy, Platonism, and the Upanishads of a clear directive on what is to be regarded as spiritual. The Yoga Sûtras go into great detail concerning the necessary preparation for a life made spiritual, beginning with purification, detachment, absolute honesty, harmlessness, and study. The section on how to practice yoga opens with the statement: ‘Austerity, self-study and resignation to Isvara (God) constitute preliminary Yoga’ [Taimni, 1961/1999 #685, p.127]. The necessary self-restraints include non-violence, harmlessness, truthfulness, non-possessiveness, abstaining from misappropriation of all kinds, sexual continence or at the very least chastity in sexual relations, and non- attachment. The development of powers, or of power generally, does not require the high order of morality underpinning the Yoga Sûtras. But as the Yoga expounded by Patañjali has as its goal spiritual liberation, Enlightenment, or Self-Realisation, the foundation of that Yoga is a rigorous moral training [Taimni, 1961/1999 #685, p.206/7], which would most likely preclude the development of anything like Nazi tendencies.

Dryzek’s unawareness of the relevant resources of spiritual traditions is more than just an unstated omission; it renders his program of communicative rationality far less effective than it might be. The expanded, ‘non-hierarchical’, form of reason he has in mind is not much expanded at all. Dryzek acknowledges that Habermas’s perspective, ‘may be limited by what bourgeois society currently allows and encourages in the way of individual development’, and he concedes that ‘one can imagine moral development that proceeds further’ (Dryzek 1990, p.210). But he does not say how moral development might be taken further, limiting himself to the discrediting of any ‘mystical notions about spiritual communion with nature’ (Dryzek 1990, p.210). What Dryzek apparently cannot

223 concede is that, minus the pejorative tone, ‘mystical notions’ about communing with nature might represent the best chance of achieving the expanded rationality of which he speaks. Such a rational mysticism informs the writings of Spinoza, Bruno, Bohm, and Plato.

Another problem with communicative rationality or Green reason is that, although it may offer a corrective to instrumental rationality, it may be unaware of or silent on the subject of reason’s remaining limitations. Barry argues that the ecological crisis is not the result of rationality per se, but of a one-sided development of reason which ‘has become almost ubiquitous’ (Barry 1993, p.52). After all it is knowledge, in the form of scientific understanding, which brings to our notice just how dependent we are on the world (Barry 1993, p.53). Barry claims that in recent decades, scientific knowledge has led us to acknowledge ‘our complete dependence’ on the world, and ‘our pressing need to find some harmony with it’. He believes it also demonstrates ‘that what unites us with nature is prior to what separates us’ (Barry 1993, p.53). Yet this would appear to paint an overly optimistic view of the effect on us of scientific knowledge. Bohm has made it plain that although science may inform us about the state of natural systems, scientific knowledge cannot unite us with nature. Zimmerman makes a similar point when he argues that: ‘humanity's treatment of nature will become respectful only as humanity's awareness evolves toward nondualism, and that such nondualistic awareness will not be produced by changes in scientific theory alone’ [Zimmerman, 1988 #77, p.3]. Barry has claimed only that scientific knowledge discloses to us the fact that we are united with nature, not that it actually unites us with nature. However, as this type of indirect knowledge leaves us no closer to the realisation of unity, the remark would appear to be of limited value. Furthermore, contrary to Barry’s claim, in Australia at least, the majority of politicians, economists, journalists, and scientists do not show any signs of acknowledging a ‘complete dependence’ on nature, or a pressing need to harmonise with it, which Barry has claimed is the result of the scientific knowledge of our dependence on the natural world (Barry 1993, p.53).

224

As indicated in previous chapters, unmediated direct perception, and not thought, brings us closer to both nature and world. Analytical reason, scientific knowledge, or fear for that matter, do not (and perhaps by definition cannot) bring us close to nature. If Barry were to have said that scientific knowledge, coupled with mounting evidence of ecological devastation, has brought with it an understanding that our behaviour must change, then he would have been right. But neither that, nor any other knowledge brings us close to nature, unless it brings us closer to direct perception or the experience of unity. The most that can be said along these lines, is that a realisation of the limits of discursive reasoning, and a sense of the potential of direct intuitive perception, may inspire someone to take up the demanding task of developing the faculty of intuitive insight, which both Bergson and Spinoza described as difficult and rare.

225 DIRECT ACTION AND NONVIOLENCE

Naess has more than once attempted to clarify the Deep Ecology stance on political engagement, or rather, answer critics who express the view that Deep Ecology is apolitical and even reactionary. His position might be summed up as follows: although Deep Ecology is not uncommitted to political praxis, it does not ‘prescribe any kind of governmental form’ (Naess 1996, p.112). At the same time: ‘In principle, it is desirable that everyone in the ecological movement engage in political activity’ (Naess 1989, p.131). Despite protestations to the contrary, however, Deep Ecology has the reputation of being politically ineffective, and even of undermining green politics (Dryzek 1990).

Plumwood maintains that Deep Ecology began, and has remained, essentially undeveloped in the political field. From her perspective, political philosophy was ‘a significant omission from Naess’s philosophical concerns’ (Plumwood 2000, p.60). She feels that this oversight, coupled with an otherwise admirable tolerance for diverse views, leaves Deep Ecology not only politically immature, but also subject to misappropriation. Barry also criticises Deep Ecology for being essentially apolitical: ‘viewing the issue of how to achieve the sustainable society as … parasitically dependent on specific forms of consciousness’ (Barry 1993, p.48). Seeing consciousness as the problem as well as the solution, Deep Ecology denies the importance of political strategy: ‘and the need to confront the state and vested interests in the transition to a sustainable society’ (Barry 1993, p.48). Similar views have been expressed by Dryzek, Bookchin, and others. In fact one would be hard-pressed to find a suggestion that Deep Ecology has been politically engaged or particularly astute.

One defence of Deep Ecology as praxis would be to show the many ways in which supporters of the Deep Ecology movement act in defence of nature. Contrary to Deep Ecology’s reputation for political reticence, in practice many individuals who subscribe

226 to the Deep Ecology platform do confront dominant institutions, in actions and protests against logging companies, mining companies, and multinational corporations. It can be argued that Deep Ecology also confronts dominant modes of thought, such as anthropocentrism, parochialism, and consumerism. A stance against the tendency to either ignore or co-opt the ecological crisis was implied in the naming of Deep Ecology, and is in part what distinguishes Deep Ecology from reform environmentalism. Nor does Deep Ecology refrain from confronting unequal social relations.

However for its part, Deep Ecology has elected to fight what it sees as the most direct immediate threat, and that is the physical threat to the natural environment. As Naess sees it, there are three interrelated goals of Green societies: peace, social justice, and ecological integrity. But in view of the accelerating rate of ecological destruction, Naess has elected to concentrate on the fight against ecological unsustainability (cited in Sessions 1994, p.213). His peace and social justice credentials are scattered throughout the literature. Plumwood’s assessment of the person will perhaps suffice. She has described Naess as:

[A] man of the peace movement and of deep practical commitment to nature, who sought a philosophical basis for that commitment and for developing a historic shift in human consciousness away from the dominant instrumental relationship and toward one based on respect and communicative virtues (Plumwood 2000, p.59).

Both direct action in defence of nature and political engagement are reflected in the eight point platform, for example in the following objects:

ƒ The flourishing of human life and cultures is compatible with a substantial decrease of the human population. The flourishing of nonhuman life requires such a decrease (Sessions 1994, p.212).

227 ƒ Policies must therefore be changed. These policies affect basic economic, technological, and ideological structures… (Sessions 1994, p.212). ƒ Those who subscribe to the foregoing points have an obligation directly or indirectly to try to implement the necessary changes (Naess 1984, p.266).

Environmental groups have adopted numerous practices of resistance and defence. One of these is the practice of “adopting” a wilderness area, visiting it regularly, getting to know it personally, and then undertaking its defence against those who would destroy its habitat and other natural values (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.31). As Devall has explained, this is partly what ecological resistance consists of in the Deep Ecology movement:

In a real sense, ecological resistance involves becoming friends with another species or a river or a mountain … . In general, the resister takes up the burden of responsibility, the burden of witnessing for the other as Self (Devall and Sessions 1985, p.197).

This attitude of getting to know a place, acting in its defence, and bearing witness to what befalls it, is embraced by eco-activists Seed and Rosenhek of the Rainforest Information Centre in Lismore, in the Northern Rivers region of New South Wales (Australia). Seed and Rosenhek organise Deep Ecology retreats, seminars, and experiential workshops in Australia and abroad, and campaign to save (primarily) intact rainforests in Australia, Ecuador and Papua New Guinea.

RIC PROJECTS

Rainforest Information Centre (RIC) work began in Ecuador in 1986, following a request from the Awa people, an indigenous community in western Ecuador who required assistance in the protection of their lands. RIC volunteers assisted the Awa:

228

to negotiate for their land rights, to demarcate their lands through establishing a productive border that would provide food and fiber for the Awa, and clearly and permanently show the boundaries of their lands. The Awa now have title to 247,000 acres (Rainforest Information Centre 2002).

Since that time 2.4 million acres of rainforest have been protected. Other work has included assisting the Awa People with the demarcation of their 100,000 hectare Ethnic Forest Reserve, supporting the first black community in Ecuador in their campaign to receive communal legal title on ethnic grounds, and creating sustainable timber management plans in conjunction with the communities of El Pan and Arenales. Seed reports that the sustainable timber project 'is now managed and funded by the British Overseas Development and the Unidad Tecnica Ecuatoriana del Plan Awa with the Ministry of Exterior Relations’ (Rainforest Information Centre 2002). RIC has also been involved in the establishment of the 15,800 acre Los Cedros Biological Reserve, and assisted the Huaorani to demarcate and gain title to over 1.5 million acres of virgin rainforest, more than one third of their ancestral lands (Rainforest Information Centre 2002). Full details of RIC projects in Ecuador are available on its website.

When in 1982 RIC began working with the Solomon Islands and Papua New Guinea (PNG), it immediately became apparent that rainforests in these extremely poor countries:

could not be protected without addressing the legitimate aspirations of the traditional landowners for economic development. Unless benign, sustainable economic alternatives could be created, the forests would surely be destroyed by industrial logging and mining interests (RIC 2001).

229 RIC noticed that communities who had obtained a small portable sawmill, known as the Wokabout Sawmill (WS), were able to resist the advances of multinational loggers who were eager to exploit their timber resources. The Papuans were able to get much higher prices for sawn timber using the Wokabout than the loggers were willing to pay. In 1990, on the strength of this observation, RIC (funded by AusAid) conducted an ecological audit of Wokabout Sawmills and found that:

[E]ven the worst operated WS was less environmentally destructive than the best of the large industrial logging operations. When accompanied by sound forest management, WS's were among the best tools in the world for sensitive harvesting of trees (Rainforest Information Centre 2001).

Then in 1991, RIC was funded by the Australian Council of Churches to undertake its first intervention using the portable sawmills. This was to help the Zia tribe in Morobe province PNG to resist signing a contract with a large logging company, that would have resulted in the clear-felling of about 100,000 acres of virgin rainforest. Instead, the Zia signed a contract with RIC and the local non-governmental organisation, Village Development Trust (VDT). Under this contract, VDT and RIC undertook to provide three Wokabout Sawmills, a boat to transport sawn timber, and training in ecological forest management. The Zia agreed not to allow any logging or mining companies onto their land, to abide by the eco-forestry management plan, and to ‘equitably share all proceeds from the sale of timber throughout the whole community’. The management plan, ‘allows careful logging on 1000 acres (about 20 acres/year over a 50 year rotation) leaving the vast majority of the land untouched’ (Rainforest Information Centre 2001).

Since 1988 Rainforest Information Centre has supported a reforestation project on one of India’s most sacred sites, Arunachala mountain in Tamil Nadu (Thiruvanamalai), South India. The project was initiated by an Australian nun, Apeetha Arunagiri, who had been living at the foot of the mountain, in the Ramana Maharshi ashram for many

230 years. During Ramana’s lifetime wild tigers roamed Arunachala, but by the middle of the twentieth century the ashram sat at the foot of a barren mountain. She asked RIC to support the newly established Annamalai Reforestation Society (ARS). Though Arunachala is classified as semi-arid, and RIC had until then concerned itself only with protecting rainforests, Seed and his colleagues did not ignore her plea. Initial funding was obtained from AusAID, the Threshold Foundation, and others sources. The results have been quite spectacular.

John Button, a RIC volunteer, coordinated Project Arunachala for eight years. His report demonstrates the practical sensibility also evident in RIC's work in Ecuador and PNG. Button writes:

While the long term aim is to reforest Arunachala, if the surrounding area is not abundant enough to support the people, then all resources from the mountain would rapidly be exploited. So, apart from planting and seeding the barren slopes of Arunachala, the project has focussed on environmental education, establishment of nurseries, skills training and credit schemes in villages, [and] the refurbishment of traditional gardens in the main temple (Rainforest Information Centre no date).

Button’s report states that the temple garden is now the largest in India, and the temple lands provide food, fodder, and timber from regenerated wastelands. With the help of a donation of land, a Permaculture Demonstration Farm and Educational Centre has also been established on wasteland. Project Arunachala promises to be viable well into the future as local volunteers have taken on the running of Arunachala Reforestation Society and secured funding from diverse local sources, including visitors to this sacred region of South India.

If practical results such as the foregoing can be attributed to an involvement with the Deep Ecology movement - as can the work of the Rainforest Information Centre - then this should suggest that Deep Ecology is not entirely uncommitted to political praxis.

231 No doubt similar illustrative cases could be sketched of the practical commitment of Deep Ecology to the defence of nature in Europe and North America. Of course, that still leaves open the possibility that Deep Ecology is undeveloped in the political arena, as Plumwood has suggested. The contribution that Deep Ecology has made to eco- politics is to focus attention on some of the psychological, social, and spiritual indicators relevant to long-term ecological integrity. On its own, ecological consciousness may not serve as an effective eco-political agenda, but Deep Ecology has argued that in the long run it is, nonetheless, necessary.

INSPIRED ACTIVISM

Sessions has pointed out that, distinctively, Deep Ecology advocates ‘activism on a “spiritual” basis - that is, acting from the basis of a fundamental philosophic/religious ecosophy (or total view) and acting nonviolently’ (Sessions 1995, p.191). A recent local example of the spiritual basis of activism in the Deep Ecology movement, and its nonviolence, was a “Fast for the Forests” organised by Ruth Rosenhek. As the media releases indicate, the purpose of the fast was to strengthen and deepen the understanding, commitment, and efficacy of those working to save the forests. The text below displays a non-violent sensibility in its willingness to treat with respect those holding opposing views (for this aspect of non-violence see Naess 1974). The fast was not used as a device to threaten, bribe, or in any way coerce opponents but rather as a means of self-purification and sacrifice, a way of getting closer to the nature the participants wish to defend. There is also an air of celebration evoked by the prospect of meditation, walks, study, and music enjoyed in the company of human and non- human friends.

232 Fast For The Forests Media Release 1

MEDIA RELEASE August 2, 2002 LOCAL ACTIVISTS BRING GANDHI TO THE FORESTS A five day Fast for Forests will commence on August 12th outside the Coffs Harbour State Forest office (Jetty office). Ruth Rosenhek, Director of the Rainforest Information Centre is organising the event including morning meditation, walks and morning study groups of Gandhi's Experiments with Truth.

"The purpose of the Fast is to find deeper understanding into the difficulties that forest conservationists and government bodies face in trying to resolve the issue of logging of remaining native forests of New South Wales" says Ms. Rosenhek. "Time and time again we end up facing off with each other in the forests and around the negotiation table and yet still old growth and high conservation value forests are being logged, still the timber industry is suffering from downsizing and still the State Forest department is expending lots of time and money dealing with forest protests”. "Right now we are facing the imminent logging of two old growth forests: Sheas Nob and Chaelundi. However, the purpose of the fast is not to pressure government but rather to strengthen ourselves and others who want the trees to stand. As Gandhi said, We have no right by fasts to convert people to our ideals. That would be a species of violence. But it is our duty to strengthen by fasting those who hold the same ideals, but are likely to weaken under pressure”.

"We are inviting people of all viewpoints to join us on the fourth day of the fast, Thursday, August 15th to join us in deep reflection. Meditators, , religious people, loggers, State Forest … all are welcome as we sincerely wish to make way for possible solutions that are mutually beneficial. While some of us will be fasting, others are very welcome to come and sit and walk with us, dialogue and play music”.

233 The fast will run from August 12th through August 16th outside the Coffs Harbour State Forest office by the Jetty. Musicians, poets and performers are invited for Tuesday's "Creative Inspiration" day. The fast will end festively with a parade to celebrate the Chaelundi Forest …

234 Fast For The Forests Media Release 2 MEDIA RELEASE - August 11, 2002 Contact: Ruth Rosenhek, Rainforest Information Centre … FAST FOR THE FORESTS HIGHLIGHTS CRISIS Today, August 12, several Forest Defenders will be fasting outside the Coffs Harbour State Forest office at the Coffs Harbour Jetty as part of the week long Fast for Forests. "There is a crisis in the forests!" says Ruth Rosenhek, organiser of the Fast and Director of the Rainforest Information Centre. "Loggers are out of jobs, the timber supply is dwindling, many species are endangered and on the brink of extinction and yet still old growth and conservation value forests are being logged right here on the North Coast.

"Last week protesters defended the old growth forests of Sheas Nob, and next week we will be heading to the well known icon forest of Chaelundi. Although we are standing up for the trees, they still they keep falling." "According to , if we wish to protect those who are helpless to protect themselves, we need to go through self-purification ourselves. By fasting we hope to strengthen and purify ourselves to better save the lives of innocent creatures and their forest homes."

"We are fasting for clarity, insight and stillness," says Catherine, a local citizen who will also be fasting. "Living in the industrial growth society, we have developed a thick armour around ourselves that prohibits us from connecting with each other and ourselves. I often feel really powerless as if there is nothing that I can do. Fasting is something deeper that I can do." …

235

IN CONCLUSION

Perhaps part of the problem with Deep Ecology theory having embraced Self-realisation as an ultimate norm, is that in traditional systems of thought Self-realisation has been conceived as the ultimate end, complete liberation (moksha). Self-realisation is a doctrine that exists in a system of thought which assumes all living beings are evolving to a “higher” state in which their spiritual, universal, or transcendent natures will be realised or awakened as a matter of course. It is inseparable from the âtman = Brahman doctrine, and premised on a belief in the potential divinity of the human being (Heard 1948/1975). Exemplars such as the Buddha and Jesus are seen as having attained to an advanced state, in which self-transcendence, Self-realisation, and Enlightenment have become natural and choiceless, a necessity of being for those who keenly feel the suffering of others.

The Yoga Sûtras, the Upanishads, and the Bhagavad Gîtâ speak of transcendent realities, ultimate truths, and final liberation, each of which appear to be incommensurate to political praxis. This perhaps need not be the case. One who is engaged in practices leading to Self-realisation may be involved in politics at the same time, as was M.K. Gandhi. However, it seems to be self-evident that the ecological crisis cannot be put on hold until enough of us happen to reach that stage of life in which Self-realisation (in the traditional usage) would be a real goal. Political praxis suggests that we have to work with the consciousness that we actually have. The doctrines of Self-realisation and the oneness of life may in the end yield a new kind of politics, but to date they have not.

At the same time, the techniques, insights, and teachings embodied in texts such as the Bhagavad Gîtâ are regarded by their adherents as relevant to living in a state of creativity, freedom, and flourishing now; and not only to final liberation. The structures

236 of consciousness into which Hindu, Buddhist, and Yoga texts provide insight, not only hinder Self-realisation or final liberation, they also make us dysfunctional (and afflicted) in the ordinary sense. The Gîtâ and the Yoga Sûtras suggest that attachment and lack of awareness are the twin causes of misery. If their assumption is correct, then the psychology, epistemology, and ethic of those seemingly exotic texts would acquire renewed relevance. Similarly, while Platonic doctrines concern themselves with the rarefied goal of union with God or Life or the Absolute, they also reveal the limitations of discursive thought. As Whicher points out in his study of the Yoga system, the mind is the source of the afflictions that hinder the goal of union, and the (same) afflictions ‘that permeate our everyday modes of perception’ (Whicher 1998, p.151). A mind that is “afflicted” in the yogic and Spinozan sense is rendered less coherent, less subtle, and less creative than it might be.

Calls for an expanded form of communicative rationality have arisen partly in response to the perceived anti-rational bias of Deep Ecology, but as indicated in the foregoing, doctrines of communicative rationality and Green reason leave critical assumptions about reason unexplored. I have argued here, and intend to later, that this inattentiveness to the nature and limitations of thought renders doubtful the prospects of communicative rationality. I have also put forward a brief defence of Deep Ecology’s political engagement, based on Naess’s stated commitment to political praxis, and the practical work of Seed and colleagues at the Rainforest Information Centre. Though this overview can only be taken as illustrative of practices and stances taken by Deep Ecology activists, I intend to go no further with my defence of Deep Ecology at this level, the emphasis in the present thesis being on its philosophical successes and failures. It is to the latter I now turn.

237

Chapter 5 Panpsychism and other attempts at Inclusiveness

In this and the following chapter, I would like to focus on the metaphysical inadequacies of Deep Ecology and draw attention to what could possibly be regarded as a "third way", which takes neither a typically materialistic nor a typically spiritual approach, but one that I regard as nondualistic and all-inclusive. My critique is based on (1) the doctrine of panpsychism, a metaphysic in which ‘mentality is in some sense restored to materiality’ (Mathews 2003a, p.4); (2) the Sânkhya system, a dominant Hindu metaphysic in which mentality is regarded as a component of matter or nature; (3) Giordano Bruno’s dialogues in which matter is regarded as both intelligible and intelligent; and (4) Bohm’s theory of the implicate or generative order, encompassing both matter and mind. Bohm’s work will be treated along with that of J. Krishnamurti in chapter 6.

A nondualistic view of mind and matter presents many reasons why we cannot abuse matter and expect impunity. It also suggests that in connection with issues such as global warming we might have been having the wrong debate. Perhaps the question should not be whether human activity is causing the planet to heat up, but why it is that even as the early effects of global warming are acknowledged world-wide, decisive action is not forthcoming. What is it about human consciousness that makes it dull, unreceptive, resistant to change and intractably stubborn, even when survival may be at stake? An answer is given in the analysis of thought in the Yoga Sûtras and in the works of Krishnamurti and Bohm. It is in the nature of thought to conceal from itself its capacity for deception, avoidance, and persistence in whatever it has been conditioned to think will bring it security and happiness. It is all implicit in the ignorance, I-am- ness, attractions and repulsions towards objects and the clinging to life and fear of death which constitute the nature of thought in the Yoga Sûtras.

238 I argue that, at present, our view of mind, thought and consciousness is excessively fragmented, and that what appears to be called for is a new view of human consciousness which reveals its inherent limitations and, on the other hand, discloses its infinite potential. As a result of the general fragmentation of disciplines, the nature of thought and the human condition are treated as separate problems to the problem of the environment; related at best only incidentally, or addressed in a sub-discipline. Chapter 7 attempts to outline what a more integrated metaphysic might look like. It also presents a nondualistic view of action and its consequences. Thus with (some) recourse to Spinoza’s Ethics, the Patañjali Yoga Sûtras. Bohm's dialogue work, and the doctrine of karma, I attempt to round out the Deep Ecology Self-realisation approach, focussing on the constraints to freedom, wholeness and creativity.

Before proceeding with the above, it is necessary to first understand something of the transformation that took place in the science and philosophy of the seventeenth century, for it was in the gradual development of the mechanical paradigm that many of the relevant issues were addressed. According to Leclerc, there has not been a comparable framework to match that of mechanism. An intrinsic part of that framework, as of any metaphysic, concerns the place and nature of the ultimate category, whether conceived as a theistic God, an impersonal Absolute, an immanent Self or a material principle; and whether pro or contra. Of course there are many other elements of metaphysics to be addressed in the formulation of a new ethic, but it would certainly seem that understanding God / the Absolute and His / Its relation to the world is as necessary now as it was in the seventeenth century. Additionally, in this and the following chapters, I examine changing views of order, the relative values of time and the eternal, the limitations of thought, the significance of process, and the nature of freedom, all of which relate to a nondualistic framework in which the One and the Many co-exist and amplify each other.

ORGANISM AND SOUL

239

In the literature on the scientific revolution we find a recurring theme in the transition from some form of organic or organismic order (as in the Great Chain of Being), to a denatured, secularised, reduced and mechanical one. An example of this genre is Carolyn Merchant's The Death of Nature, which not only shows how the Newtonian paradigm deviated from a long-standing and pervasive organicism, but also places gender issues in the context of a reductionist, technocentric paradigm which has legitimated the exploitation of nature and women (Merchant 1989). Aristotle's philosophy was based on an organic model of growth and development within nature, and the metaphor of organism continued to bind together the individual, the community and the cosmos well into the sixteenth century (Merchant 1989, p.11/1). Merchant discusses three variations of the organic theory of society: that of medieval society as a highly stratified hierarchy, with each part, whatever its status, regarded as indispensable to the whole; another model which stressed community over status and regarded the parts of society as (almost) equal; and a system which stressed the need for social revolution and the establishment of a more egalitarian communal society, as in Campanella's City of the Sun, with its emphasis on holistic health, sharing of resources and worship (Merchant 1989, p.69-84).

The organicism of the Renaissance was based on the Greek conception of the cosmos as an intelligent organism. Elements of Platonism, , and Stoicism combined in different proportions with elements of Hermeticism, Gnosticism and Christianity to produce a variety of organismic philosophies, each regarding the parts of the cosmos as interconnected 'in a living unity' (Merchant 1989, p.103). As already shown, Platonists regarded the physical world as ensouled. Similarly, the Hermetic philosophy conceived nature as active and psychic, with the physical and the spiritual thoroughly interpenetrating each other (Westfall 1972, p.184). Individual bodies were seen to exert an influence over each other in the form of sympathies and antipathies, each body possessing the sources of its own activity: 'active principles whereby they set themselves in operation and perform their specific acts' (Westfall 1972, p.184). The

240 doctrine of correspondences, culminating in the notions of macrocosmos and microcosmos, is to be found in both Platonism and Hermeticism.

The Neoplatonic scheme held that the world soul was the source of life and activity, immanent within nature, 'vivifying it like a cosmic animal' (Merchant 1989, p.107). In the of Paracelsus and Van Helmont, matter and spirit were unified into a single, active vital substance, of which the 'spiritual kernel is considered the real substance and the material "cover" a mere phenomenon' (Merchant 1989, p.117). The word phenomenon implies something of which the phenomena are appearances or expressions. Renaissance naturalism offered another variant of organicism, laying stress on the concept of change, 'rather than the principles of matter' (Merchant 1989, p.112).

The two fundamental principles of change were heat and cold, also conceived as sun and earth; light and dark; and immobility. These principles or qualities appeared in all things: 'In generated objects, the opposites interpenetrated and caused change, while in the sun and earth they were primary …' (Merchant 1989, p.112). A comparable notion in Hindu metaphysics is the triguna theory, subscribed to by most, if not all, Hindu systems. All things are constituted of the three gunas or qualities: sattva, and tamas. As Dasgupta explains:

[A]ll things (mental or material) except the pure self are made up of an admixture, or rather a combination in different proportions, of three classes of reals technically called gunas. The word guna in Sanskrit means (1) qualities, (2) subordinate or inferior and (3) string. Later commentators have tried to justify the use of the term from the point of view of all the three meanings (Dasgupta 1930, p.70).

Sattva is light, balance, and harmony; rajas is movement and activity; tamas is the principle of inertia. In matter the quality of inertia or tamas is primary. Different foods are regarded as sattvic, rajasic or tamasic. Sattvic foods are pure, fresh and not over- stimulating such as vegetables, fruits and nuts; rajasic foods such as spices excite the rajasic qualities in us such as restlessness and desire; tamasic foods are stale, heavy, or

241 impure such as tinned food, left-overs, and meat. Individuals can also embody one quality more than another.

CHANGE IN VALUES

In the pre-Renaissance eternal order, the highest value was that which never changed. But in the Renaissance the way things changed and the power to change them became the highest value. For example, 'Galileo argued that it is precisely the transformations of nature that are the most interesting.' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.207). It was believed that through understanding natural processes 'humanity could dominate nature for the general good' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.208). This development amounted to ' a whole new spirit of the age' which Bohm characterised as the "new secular order". At the same time, the image of nature changed from one of organic order pervading cosmos, self, and society to that of a disorderly chaos which needed to be controlled and subdued (Merchant 1989, p.27). The early modern period saw the release of a number of worrisome tendencies towards radical social change, tendencies brought to the fore in the Civil War decade of the 1640s, during which period the social dissent already evident in Francis Bacon's lifetime came to a head. As Brian Easlea put it:

242 The Parliament of men of had just executed the King of England in the name of the people … The people of England - or at least too many of them for the liking of Parliament - now wished to see the construction of a "truly" Christian society, each according to its own special divine illuminations (Easlea 1980, p.131).

This discloses some of the extra-scientific factors that helped shape the response of Enlightenment ideology to the growing popularity of Hermeticism and various religious . The triumphant historiography which once characterised treatments of the Scientific Revolution, took it for granted that modern Western science rose to prominence on the basis of empirical rigour and superior logic. In the last three or four decades, however, the poverty of this view has come to light. It now seems that it was by no means inevitable that Enlightenment ideology would win out over competing claims about, 'the aims, the contents, the methods, and the ownership of natural knowledge' (Martin 1991, p.100). In a small note in The Essential Tension, Thomas Kuhn mentions two articles which suggested that Hermeticism and competed for social and intellectual status (Kuhn 1977, p.57). This remark suggests that in the seventeenth century Hermeticism could be regarded as a mainstream body of thought competing with the atomic model which soon came to define and dominate science.

The Oxford Companion to Philosophy writes of Francis Bacon (1561-1626) that he had two great ambitions. One was political, in which, as Lord Chancellor, as well as lawyer, politician and philosopher at the Courts of Elizabeth Tudor and James Stuart he certainly succeeded. The other was philosophical, 'to refound human knowledge on the basis of a systematic for scientific enquiry' (Honderich 1995, p.75). The Oxford view, in which Bacon's political and philosophical ambitions can be treated as discrete traits, is certainly questionable. It is likely that political ambitions, and reasons of state, played no small part in the fashioning of Enlightenment ideology for which Bacon was largely responsible. As Julian Martin argues, Bacon's 'overriding ambition was the augmentation of the powers of the Crown in the state'; his refashioning of

243 philosophy was but one instrument by which to achieve this political aim (Martin 1991, p.105).

It is not surprising that given the socio-political implications of Puritan and Hermetic thought, Bacon viewed epistemology as a political problem. The Hermetic view presented sufficient danger in situating the human being at the centre of an enchanted cosmos that was imbued with a world soul deserving of utmost respect and alive with all manner of sympathies and antipathies amenable to the influence of the natural magician. But prior to Bacon's birth, the alchemist and popular healer Paracelsus had already added to the Hermetic mix a volatile element of social dissent, seeking to reform religion and society and redistribute wealth (Easlea 1980, p.100). Parliament and the Crown viewed such aims with alarm, and Bacon's response was to appropriate epistemology in the service of the state by casting all knowledge in the mould of his re- fashioned system, equating "knowledge" with the centrally controlled experimental method, thereby marginalising the natural magician. It was stipulated that only those officially licensed by the state could practice in the politically sensitive arena of natural philosophy (Martin 1991, p.109-113). The socially stratified community of natural philosophers in Bacon's New was the logical result. Elite "Brethren" devised the experiments, considered the results, uncovered the principles, and devised useful technologies assisted by a huge force of under-labourers (Martin 1991, p.111). In short, both Martin and Easlea argue that the mechanical philosophy owed its ready acceptance (and much of its form) to the fact that, in declaring matter to be dead and devoid of intrinsic value, it served to leave firmly in the hands of God, legitimate the exploitation of matter or nature, and shore up the powers of the state.

Merchant describes the new order emerging in sixteenth and seventeenth century Europe as one which emphasised the 'concepts of passivity and control in the spheres of production and reproduction' (Merchant 1989, p.149). The mechanical model incorporated elements of Renaissance organicism compatible with control and manipulation, but rejected ideas 'associated with change, uncertainty, and

244 unpredictability' (Merchant 1989, p.195). The passivity and plasticity of matter were carried over into the new scheme; vitalistic elements were rejected (Merchant 1989, p.195). As indicated above, this was not always on purely philosophic, logical, or scientific grounds. The end result was a mechanistic framework for a new social order in which,

[C]osmos, society and the human being [were] construed as ordered systems of mechanical parts subject to governance by law and to predictability through deductive reasoning. A new concept of the self as a rational master of the passions housed in a machinelike body began to replace the concept of the self as an integral part of a close-knit harmony of organic parts united to the cosmos and society (Merchant 1989, p.214).

Bohm and Peat have argued that the change from the old eternal order brought with it the idea that things are inherently relative and that everything is transient (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.109). Furthermore they point out that these changes swept into every sphere of life and led to rapid developments in science and technology, the scale of industry, 'the growth of nationalism', and a decline in the importance of religion (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.109). On the positive side, Ken Wilber has argued that the clear differentiation of religion, science and art, which secularisation entailed, allowed each sphere to pursue its own truths, and to make its own discoveries, without fear of attack from other quarters. As Wilber expressed it:

You could look through Galileo's telescope without being hauled before the Inquisition. You could paint the human body in a natural setting without being tried for against God and Pope. You could espouse the universal moral rights of humans without being charged with treason against King or Queen (Wilber 1998, p.49).

This segregation he described as the great dignity and the great disaster of modernity. Disaster lies in the fact that the three previously interrelated domains of learning - art, religion, and science - were soon reduced to the one "real" domain, the one legitimate

245 way of knowing, namely, empirical science segregated from the other cultural spheres. Material success in science served to de-legitimise other ways of knowing and marginalise spiritual values, resulting in a one-dimensional, unidirectional field described by Wilber as "flatland".

MATTER AS PURELY MATERIAL

Fundamental to the new conception of nature and the new secular order was a new conception of matter, which Leclerc describes as the outcome of a gradual change, 'from the concept of matter as the Aristotelian correlative of form to that of a self- subsistent actuality’ (Leclerc 1972, p.35). Matter came to be identified and defined by 'the physical as such', the ultimate physical existent being “material substance”. In Leclerc's opinion, the 'subsequent philosophical thought of the seventeenth century was in its fundamental aspect the struggle with the implications of this new conception’ (Leclerc 1972, p.35).

Reducing the category of matter to that of material substance devoid of consciousness or life (the forms) is a departure from earlier notions of matter as a metaphysical principle, such as that found in Sânkhya which treats prakriti (matter or nature) as the ‘metaphysical principle which underlies physical manifestation’ (Schweizer 1993, p.847) and which includes within its characteristics all mentalistic elements including intellect and the sense of identity. Leclerc points out that, since the Milesians, Greek thought held that all physical existence is ‘necessarily extensive and thus bodily’, but body was not conceived as “material” in the sense that has dominated thought since the seventeenth century (Leclerc 1972, p.44-5). Prior to the seventeenth century the physical existent was generally regarded either as the correlative of form or the intrinsic possessor of form and movement.

Bruno conceived the totality of matter as 'God manifested’ so that universal matter necessarily has ‘its inherent principle of agency, the spiritus mundi' (Leclerc 1972,

246 p.189). Matter, being ensouled, has its 'own inner power of being and living, so that the sources of change are to be found in bodies themselves, in their own inner power and activity’ (Leclerc 1972, p.139). Descartes conceived of matter as physical, but not essentially corporeal. For him matter was mathematical (as it was also to Bruno): a single, homogenous, boundless, indefinite res extensa itself undivided but capable of infinite division, a process through which all bodies come into existence (Leclerc 1972, p.187). Since, by the seventeenth century, the idea of the world soul had been abandoned, soul had to be given an independent status, res cogitantes, and matter was left without agency (Leclerc 1972, p.189). Thus, in the seventeenth century matter was regarded as extensive, 'fully actual and devoid of any change in itself ' (Leclerc 1972, p.222/243). The notion that matter is fully actual denies its processual nature. It is what it is, a finished product; and by the seventeenth century universal matter is a finished product without either soul or inherent purpose. Inherent forming activity being absent from matter, it also came to be seen as lacking inherent purpose or value, and could be shaped and exploited at will.

The idea of matter as fully actual, bodily, and lacking the source of change in itself, was a gradual development outlined in detail in Leclerc's The Nature of Physical Existence (1972). In the Neoplatonic system, and in the thought of Nicholas of Cusa, the source of activity was the world soul, an emanation of God:

The infinite being of God is contracted to the universe; in this contraction, form, which in God is infinite, is contracted to the spiritus mundi, the world soul. The world soul is individualized by further contractions to the souls of the individual existents. So in this doctrine all individual existents are ensouled (Leclerc 1972, p.130-1).

This laid the foundation for ‘the conception of matter as an independent existent or substance’; a line of thought developed most fully in the Renaissance by Bruno, building on the ideas of Cusanus (Leclerc 1972, p.131).

247 Developing Cusanus’s doctrine of the coincidence of opposites, which included matter and potentiality (the forms) in God, Bruno went on to argue that matter itself contained the forms. Aristotle posited a universe consisting of two distinct principles: matter and form. Cusanus and the Neoplatonists then “ensouled” universal matter with a universal form, placing greater emphasis on matter than hitherto. It was in matter that 'all potency', the principle or source of activity (archê) was to be found: ‘Thus in Bruno matter, ontologically, takes the place previously occupied by form’ (Leclerc 1972, p.133). This primary matter, however, is no "stuff". It was regarded as neither corporeal nor incorporeal, but as "contracted being," (Leclerc 1972, p.133). However, once matter had been conceived as an independent existent, (contracted being, or a microcosm), soul was then taken out of matter in the seventeenth century, leaving matter as an independent existent without a soul, so to speak. Gone was the idea of contracted being, with its emphasis on God as the infinite being. What remained was the highly manipulable and superbly exploitable material for the fulfillment of all our desires, which we know as matter or nature.

One important implication of this new conception was that ‘since all perceptible bodies are aggregate compounds of changeless elements', the fundamental change they can undergo became locomotion or change of place (Leclerc 1972, p.146). Motion was 'arbitrarily introduced’ to account for diversity and change in a material substance devoid of any inner forming activity. New groupings of elements occur through locomotion; and that is how new compounds are generated. ‘Here we have the basic position of the mechanistic conception of nature as it came to be developed during the rest of the century’ (Leclerc 1972, p.146). Aristotle had maintained that physis is that which has the source of movement, kinêsis, in itself; and that this involved the ‘transition from potentiality to actuality. Now on the new conception of material substance … the substances are in themselves entirely changeless … and they accordingly cannot involve any Aristotelian process of attaining actuality’ (Leclerc 1972, p.147). Gone with the Neoplatonic idea of ensouled matter and the Aristotelian

248 notion of an inner source of movement (albeit in eidos or form) was any idea of telos or purpose.

This new physics, philosophically unappealing as it may now seem, rapidly became ‘immensely successful’ (Leclerc 1972, p.148). Continuing success not withstanding, both Bohm and Leclerc have argued that the twentieth-century concept of matter, considerably altered of late by relativity and quantum physics, is unclear. As Bohm has argued, physics retains assumptions of Cartesian dualism in spite of the fact that quantum theory appears to imply wholeness, unity and radical interrelatedness. Leclerc believes this lack of clarity or consistency is largely due to the patent neglect of philosophical issues such as the ontological status of the various existents in question such as space, particles and motion (Leclerc 1972, p.242). Bohm also decries the general lack of interest in philosophical questions within the scientific community, and sees the "non-realism" of quantum physics as keeping alive the 'mechanistic vision'. As Griffin expresses Bohm's view: a 'realistic physics … which will once again intend to express the truth about the world (however partial this truth may be), will point to a vision of wholeness in which all things are seen as internally related to other things' (Griffin 1986, p.127-8). Such a vision is encountered in Bruno’s works.

BRUNO ON MATTER

Spinoza’s view of self-realisation and conatus, imported into panpsychism, receives a similar (and perhaps more extensive) treatment in the four dialogues of Bruno’s Cause, Principle, and Unity. Panpsychism is clearly supported by Bruno’s cosmology and it is hard not to see in his system a presentiment of contemporary panpsychism. This “lineage” should not be surprising, given that Bruno exerted a great influence on Spinoza (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.41), and Spinoza on Mathews (Mathews 2003a, p.3). According to Lindsay, Bruno drew his inspiration, and his starting point, from Pythagoras and Anaxagoras. McIntyre mentions Xenophanes and Heraclitus as

249 other influences. During his trial in Venice (1592) Bruno testified that ‘he wrote as a philosopher and believed “in the Pythagorean manner”’, quoting in his defence , Virgil’s Aeneid and the Wisdom of Solomon (Singer 1968, p.165).

Much of Bruno’s work is regarded as a critique of Aristotle, who, as we have seen, divided being into matter and form. In his introduction to Cause, Principle, and Unity Lindsay explains that Aristotle considered matter to be pure nothingness, pure potentiality, with form being external to matter, which it actualised by way of material, efficient, formal and final causes (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.13). Bruno had little in common with Aristotle’s way of thinking. Instead, he drew on Xenophanes, Heraclitus, and Anaxagoras to conceive a dynamic version of panentheism. It consisted of the Absolute or the One, existing ‘apart from all reference to the finite’, an idea encountered in Xenophanes, but at the same time ‘unfolding, revealing itself, “appearing” in and through the finite’, as taught by Heraclitus (McIntyre 1903, p.125- 6). In Anaxagoras Bruno found a like mind, one for whom nature was divine, and who clearly demonstrated to him that, ‘all things are in all things’ (from the three volume Italian edition of Bruno’s Latin works: 1879-1891 quoted in McIntyre 1903, p.126). Following Bernardino Telesio, Bruno attributed consciousness to matter: ‘since he could not understand how it could appear in animals unless primary matter already owned it’ (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.22). As already mentioned, Bruno argued that matter itself contained the forms.

McIntyre regards the Neoplatonists, via Ficino’s translations, as the greatest influence on Bruno’s thought. Writing in 1903, in one of the first assessment’s of Bruno’s thought, McIntyre shows that Bruno adopted the typical Neoplatonic frequently noted in connection with Ficino, Steuco, and More; mixing the teachings of Plato with those of Plotinus, Iamblichus, the , Hindu sages and Egyptian hierophants (McIntyre 1903, p.128).

250 Lindsay points out that terms such as explication, implication, and complexity found in Bruno’s treatment of form and matter derive from Neoplatonic ideas (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.171). Explication and implication later found their way into Bohm’s theoretical work. Bruno’s conception of matter is given in point form below.

ƒ Like Plotinus and Plato before him, and Spinoza and Bohm after him, Bruno speaks of two matters, the one intelligible, the other sensible. The first, Lindsay describes as ‘containing all beings in a uniting and intensive sense’, the second contains all beings ‘in their separate specific aspects, extensively’ (in Bruno 1962/1976, p.27). McIntyre regards this notion of two matters as the most significant contribution of Plotinus to the development of Bruno’s philosophy (McIntyre 1903, p.132). Along the lines of Bruno’s notion of two matters, the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad treats of two forms of Brahman (the ultimate reality): ‘the formed and the formless, the mortal and the immortal, the stationary and the moving, the actual and the yon’ (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.79). As McIntyre expresses it:

[T[he matter underlying the intelligible world is all things and all together … there is nothing into which it may change: whereas the matter of the sensible world becomes all by change in its parts … and is therefore at all times in diversity, change movement (McIntyre 1903, p.133).

The difference between intelligible matter, which is incorporeal, and brute matter which is observable, is the difference between the eternal and the ever-changing. Sensible matter is the unity of all; intelligible (incorporeal) matter is the unity in all. ƒ Various versions of spirit / matter nondualism are evident in Bruno’s work: (1) spirit and matter are co-eternal, existing ‘permanently together’, and both are ‘indissoluble’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.49); (2) this unity of spirit and matter is ‘neither corporeal nor spiritual, yet in its different aspects … both at once’ (McIntyre 1903, p.135); and (3) the One is both principle and cause. As Teofilo puts it in the second dialogue (speaking on behalf of Bruno and his philosophy):

251 [T]he soul of the universe, insofar as it animates and informs, comes to be an intrinsic and formal part of the universe; yet insofar as it directs and governs … it does not rank as a principle, but as a cause (Bruno 1962/1976, p.84).

ƒ The One is also the world soul, which Bruno describes as the world-artificer: ‘the inner craftsman, since it forms matter and shapes if from within …’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.82). This idea bears a striking similarity to the terminology of the Brihadâranyaka Upanishad which describes the universal Self as the Inner Controller dwelling in all things (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.84). ƒ Diversity and multiplicity are explained in terms of complexity and structure. Although the soul is one in all things, it comes to produce diverse entities possessing different faculties according to structure, the more complex the structure, the more “conscious” they appear to be. Or in Bruno’s words, things vary:

according to the diversity of matter’s dispositions and the power of the material principles, active and passive, sometimes showing the effect of life without sense, sometimes the effect of life and sense without intellect, and at other times achieving an appearance of the total suppression of the faculties, their repression by weakness or some other condition of matter (Bruno 1962/1976, p.89).

Following Bruno, Spinoza similarly argued that the various manifestations of the one substance are the result of the level of complexity of a given structure. As Mathews explains, for Spinoza: ‘The level of organization of a given structure dictates the level of “mind” which it attains’ (Mathews 1994, p.111).

ƒ Much is the result of accident or chance, or as McIntyre expresses it: ‘all that makes difference and number is pure accident … pure “complexion”; every creation … is an alteration, the substance remaining always the same…’ (McIntyre 1903, p.175). The Emerald Tablet says much the same, but speaking in terms of adaptation rather than alteration: ‘And as all things have been and arose from one by the mediation of one: so all things have their birth from this one thing by adaptation’ (quoted in

252 Dobbs 1988). In a similar vein the Viveka Cûdâmani maintains: ‘The distinction is created by conditions’ (verse 245 Sri Samkaracharya 1973, p.95). ƒ A tenet very much like the Deep Ecology notion of biospherical egalitarianism is evident in Bruno’s egalitarian conception of matter. As Teofilo says in the fifth dialogue:

You do not come any nearer to proportion, likeness, union, and identity with the infinite by being a man then by being an ant, by being a star than by being a man … in the infinite these things are indifferent (Bruno 1962/1976, p.136).

Bruno suggests that in the eyes of the infinite all finite things are equal: all finite things in the natural order equally manifest, unfold, and reflect the infinite. When asked, “why do things then change?” Teofilo then replies: ‘there is not a change which seeks another being, but a change which seeks another mode of being’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.137). There is only one Being existing in various modi. Bruno argues that all the differences that we see are ‘the varying face of the same substance’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.140). In my view, this is true biospheric egalitarianism: the one Life is in everything and everything is in the one Life. Or as Bruno put it: ‘all things are in the universe and the universe is in all things … all things concur in a perfect unity’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.138/9). When asked whether he thought ‘the soul of man is substantially the same as that of beasts and that the only difference was one of form’? Bruno replied:

253

That of man is the same in its specific and generic essence with that of flies, oysters, plants, and everything which lives, or has a soul; it is not matter which it possesses in a more or less lively way - there is a thorough permeation of spirit in itself. Now, the aforesaid spirit, by fate or providence, order or chance, unites itself to this or that kind of body, and, by reason of difference in structure or members, reaches different grades and of faculty and act. Hence, that spirit or soul, which was in the spider, and possessed its industry, claws, and members of a certain number, mass, and shape, united with human seed, acquires another intelligence, instruments, postures, and deeds (Bruno 1962/1976, p.160/1).

Aptly, Lindsay remarks that Bruno, ‘always insists on the community of intellect between men and animals’; certain that mental functioning is merely the result of physical structure, and that in all cases whether human or animal, it is the One, ‘manifesting now in this now in that specific form’ (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.161). In Bruno’s radically nondualistic system, everything in the universe:

has in itself that which is entire everywhere; and so it comprehends in its mode the whole world-soul … we are not to believe there is in this world a plurality of substance and of that which is truly being (Bruno 1962/1976, p.139).

ƒ In a very modern attitude, Bruno does not hold with either Aristotle’s or Plato’s conception of matter as woman - with woman being imperfect, inconstant, petty, vain, ignoble, capricious and so on (Bruno 1962/1976, p.119). He makes that quite clear in the Fourth Dialogue and in the First (Bruno 1962/1976, p.75/117-9).

ƒ A sentiment approaching that of cultural pluralism can be seen in the third dialogue, when Bruno avers that it is possible to give various definitions of matter which do not contradict one another, but look at the same thing from different perspectives (Bruno 1962/1976, p.110). He argues that there is not just ‘a single road for investigating and reaching the cognition of nature’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.108). This not only allows for a plurality of views it also leaves the field open for the

254 application of mechanistic explanations where appropriate in the world of observation, without necessarily denying the existence or relevance of other orders in which mechanistic explanations would not apply.

ƒ Intelligible matter being incorporeal and dimensionless, the question arises how is it to be known? Matter as a unity, ever at one with spirit or consciousness, is not amenable to either sense perception or analysis. In the second dialogue, Teofilo explains:

[I]f the world-soul and the universal form are said to be everywhere, we do not mean in a corporeal and dimensional sense; for such they are not, and such they cannot be in any part. But they are spiritually everywhere in their wholeness (Bruno 1962/1976, p.93).

As Bruno understood it, ‘This natural matter is … not as perceptible as artificial matter’; so that when in dialogue 3, Gervase asks, ‘Is it then possible for us to know the substratum of nature?’, Teofilo replies:

Teo: Assuredly, but with different principles of cognition. In the same way as we don’t know colours and sounds by the same sense, so we cannot see the substratum of the and that of nature with the same eye.

Gerv: You mean that we see the first with the eyes of sense and the second with the eye of reason [contemplation]?

Teo: Exactly (Bruno 1962/1976, p.102).

Furthermore, in the character of Dicson, Bruno points out that matter as a unity, ‘cannot be comprehended by the intellect, except by way of negation’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.114). It may be concluded then, that intelligible matter is to be known by way of negation, and by the contemplation and direct intuitive perception that is central both to Platonism and to .

255

Bruno’s thought is in line with Hindu metaphysics in many respects. His view of the unity being ‘the world-soul from a special point of view’ (McIntyre 1903, p.171) coincides with the âtman doctrine, particularly as Bruno identifies the innermost essence of the human being with God (McIntyre 1903, p.316). McIntyre writes that for Bruno: ‘God, the Monad, or Mind, is the true, innermost nature of things’ (McIntyre 1903, p.317). I presume that Mind with a capital “M” is not to be confused with linear thought, but refers to something more like consciousness in the Sânkhya or intelligence in Krishnamurti and Bohm. In Bruno’s system, as in that of Plotinus, the universal intelligence is ‘the soul of the world and the source of the forms of material things’ (McIntyre 1903, p.132). Just as in the Aitareya Upanishad universal intelligence is viewed as the basis and guiding force of all creation (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.63-4). Thus, Teofilo maintains that life is found in all things, and that the soul, or the intellect (in the Platonic sense) ‘presides throughout over matter, holds sway over composite things, and determines the composition and consistency of their parts’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.89). The Intellect is ‘the formative and organising force which operates from the depths of nature…’ (in Bruno 1962/1976, p.24).

As the universal intellect is not external to the world, Bruno avoided all transcendental positions. Matter is not seen as inert or passive, but as identical with the inner forming activity (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.25). Cause and principle, spirit and matter, are essentially one substance. They may be separated for the purposes of analysis: ‘but in fact they are … different aspects of a unitary substance’ (Lindsay in Bruno 1962/1976, p.25). He also taught that matter is ‘indivisibly extended’ (Bruno 1962/1976, p.127). The intriguing possibility exists that Descartes, among others, adopted Bruno’s idea of matter as indivisibly extended, without seeing, as Spinoza did, that if something was indivisible then it must encompass spirit as well as matter. For Bruno, matter encompassed act and potency, principle and cause, in one indivisible unity that might be regarded as spirit/matter. Descartes, on the other hand, went on to develop a de- animated version of matter as extension. That which is itself undivided, but capable of

256 infinite division (res extensa), might just as well be conceived as the Absolute, or the generative order. Thus, res extensa would equal res cogitantes, and matter equal consciousness.

THE PRIMACY OF UNITY

The problems engaging eco-philosophers today are reminiscent of issues raised in the three-way debate between the Aristotelians, Hermeticists, and atomists in the seventeenth century. These were summarised by the historian Brian Easlea as follows:

What kind of world is this? What kinds of things and entities populate it? Are there sympathies and antipathies between different material entities? Is all matter sentient and conscious to some extent? Or is all matter passive, inert and lifeless? What is the relationship between matter and life? Is control of the material world legitimate and, if so, how is it to be acquired? Is there a world soul? Is man’s soul immortal? … And finally … does God exist? (Easlea 1980, p.88).

On all such matters most forms of traditional metaphysics take a view that is diametrically opposed to that of modern analytic philosophy. Where it treats of such things at all analytic philosophy posits matter/energy as the fundamental substance, the source of all that is; and in keeping with the dominant scientific view it assumes that the philosophy of dualism closely models reality. In terms of this model, matter and consciousness, life and non-life, self and non-self can remain conceptually distinct without fear of contradiction. The dualist or pluralist theory that has been dominant since the seventeenth century is atomism (Mathews 1994, p.10). Where modern cosmology admits to some sort of (materialistic) substance monism, it is, from the viewpoint of a nondualistic metaphysics such as Advaita Vedânta, a pseudo-monism, to borrow a phrase from the physicist Amit Goswami (Goswami 2001, p.535).

257 It is widely held that modern evolutionary cosmology has returned the verdict that there is nothing substantial to matter/energy: that essence, if it can be said to exist at all, emerges from substance at a certain stage of complexity, as do all forms of subjectivity and consciousness. This is a form of monism which, it might be argued, does not adequately account for consciousness and spirit. Most nondualistic and Platonic systems hold that essence precedes substance, that essence is the greater or higher entity from which substance emerges. So far as modern evolutionary cosmology is concerned, if there is a world soul (to revisit the seventeenth-century question), it would have to be an epiphenomenon of matter, because matter not consciousness is primary. But in nondualistic traditions matter is more likely to be regarded as an epiphenomenon of consciousness. Ravi Ravindra, Professor of Comparative Religion and Adjunct Professor of Physics at Dalhousie University Nova Scotia, drew attention to this as the absolutely fundamental distinction between spiritual and analytic philosophies when he stated:

In general, the East thinks, as do all spiritual traditions, that it is the spirit that has the body. On the other hand, from the scientific (western?) point of view, if Spirit can be spoken of at all, it can only be that it is the body that has the spirit. Vast philosophic and cultural differences are implied in these expressions (Ravindra 2000, p.6).

Nondualists hold that some form or other of nondualism closely models reality, and that one or more of the following applies: (1) matter/energy possesses only relative autonomy, being phenomenal of something else; (2) spirit and matter are equal effects of an underlying cause that is extremely subtle in nature; and (3) mind, consciousness or life is always implicated in matter. These positions are resolved in a nondualistic cosmological framework in which “the whole” or unity is primary and active in every sphere. Duality exists, but the analysis of reality into parts breaks down at a certain point. Such a framework is evident in Platonism, Hermeticism, and the Upanishads, along with the writings of Bruno and Bohm. The version of qualified nondualism being advanced in this thesis would argue that the field of duality, or manifestation, may

258 ultimately be secondary, but it is nonetheless important; not only in its own right, but also in that it lends meaning to the ultimate reality or the One. The importance of dipolarity, or the coexistence of the One and the Many, is highlighted by process philosophers influenced by Whitehead.38 Is it possible to speak in terms of the primacy of the One and still maintain the importance of change, difference, plurality and the Many? As shown in the following chapter, Bohm regards the One, the deepest layer of the implicate order, as primary, without taking any importance away from the explicate order. Ultimately there is no distinction or separation between the implicate and the explicate, matter and consciousness.

What is meant by the primacy of unity or nonduality in a world that is clearly under the sway of pluralism, multiplicity, change, and time? Dualism appears to be the way we experience the world. There are, however, counter-arguments to this view, including the argument that although nondualism is counterintuitive it has been demonstrated that dualism is untenable. Goswami explains this with reference to the problem of interaction between consciousness and matter, when he writes:

If consciousness and matter are truly dualistic, that is, made of two entirely different substances, then how do they interact? Their interaction requires a mediator. The obvious absence of a mediator speaks in favor of a monism (Goswami 2001, p.535).

The dualism inherent in thought, logic, and material existence has been noted since before Upanishadic times, and stressed by Hegel in terms of the dialectic of thought. Predating the Upanishads, the creation hymn of the Rig Veda treats duality as fundamental to manifestation. Vedic scholar Wendy O’Flaherty notes that in the Vedas creation begins with the churning of the ocean, the classic image depicting creation. The ‘serene primeval

38 The doctrine of dipolarity, discussed in chapter 7, seeks to treat all aspects of reality equally, while advocating a necessary relationship with the eternal, God, or the One. It is thus thoroughly non- reductionistic.

259 waters’ are disrupted by chaos, ‘in order that all the oppositional pairs may emerge and meet in creative conflict’ (O'Flaherty 1975/1984, p.273). This ancient image of oppositional pairs meeting in creative conflict is an apt description of the dialectic of thought, and its resolution in ever-new syntheses. After discussing Hegel with the philosopher Mashulan Groll in 1956, Bohm came to see the dialectic as the basic movement of thought, and ‘the basic movement of reality’ (Peat 1997, p.180). If paid sustained attention, the oppositional pairs or dualisms of spirit and matter, relationship and oneness, pluralism and nonduality may prove to be immensely creative in the field of ecophilosophy. As Bohm and Peat have argued in other contexts, creativity lies in new areas between fixed extremes of thought.

Dialectics are resolved in higher order unities. The higher order unity in which mind and matter are resolved, or in which mind and matter are enfolded complicans, is what in Sânkhya, Vedânta, and Yoga is pure consciousness, not to be confused with thought, I-am-ness, intellect, or any other mentalistic quality. All mentalistic qualities are subsumed under the category of matter in systems of thought/consciousness duality. Consciousness is that which remains when all qualities are transcended, negated, or set aside either in meditation, or in macrocosmic terms, prior to and following periods of manifestation. Another point that needs to be made as clearly as possible is that when speaking in terms of the primacy of unity, or the Absolute (One) that exists prior to manifestation, prior means not only prior in time but also prior in significance. The One is more significant or primary because it contains the Many complicans (enfolded). Without the One, the Many would not exist; which is not to say that the Many have no meaning for the One. One argument is that the Many must exist, but that the exact make-up of the Many is not fixed. This allows for the interplay of chance and design in manifestation, a dynamic that holds in Bohm's descriptions of the relative importance of the generative and explicate order, and in Birch and Cobb’s emphasis on purpose interacting with chance, in The Liberation of Life (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981).

260 A nondualistic framework can account for and resolve various dichotomies, including mind-matter dualism, in a higher or more subtle order that has largely been lost to view in analytic philosophy and empirical science, but re-visited in the revived doctrine of panpsychism.

TOWARDS A RE-EVALUATION OF MATTER

In chapter 1, I included Mathews in my list of second-generation Deep Ecology theorists. Indeed, The Ecological Self (Mathews 1994) is regarded by Eric Katz as ‘the most explicitly metaphysical version of the philosophy of Deep Ecology’ (Katz 2000, p.32). It soon became apparent to Mathews, however, that Deep Ecology did not sufficiently explore the metaphysical implications of ecophilosophy. The following description of her enchantment and then disillusionment with Deep Ecology traces the trajectory of her involvement. As Mathews relates:

all the ideas with which I had been working were pulled together, and their normative implications drawn out in some detail. It was thereafter a relief to have a label to attach to my research: when people asked me what I was working on, I could say “the foundations of Deep Ecology”! However, in Deep Ecology the notions of interconnectedness, and of our identification with other beings and with wider wholes in Nature, tended to be highly schematic, and to be presented as axiomatic. So although my work had found a kind of intuitive and spiritual resting place in Deep Ecology, this new area of thinking had not provided me with a significant articulation and justification of a metaphysic of interconnectedness (Mathews 1994, p.3).

Unlike previous Deep Ecology theorists Mathews has, in effect, undertaken to answer the questions debated in the seventeenth century; what kind of world this is, what kinds of entities populate it, are there sympathies and antipathies between different material entities, is all matter sentient and conscious to some extent, what is the relationship

261 between matter and life, and finally, is control of the material world legitimate?39 (Easlea 1980, p.88). Having attempted to answer these questions, Mathews has gone a considerable way towards formulating the metaphysical foundations of Deep Ecology.

Until recently it seemed that the had sealed the fate of any immanentistic or panentheist notions of God, leaving the deity as a totally transcendent being. And as far as the sentience of matter is concerned, it has been assumed for the past four centuries or so that matter is lifeless and inert, with no purpose or telos of its own, and possessing no intrinsic or inherent value. On these latter points, Mathews quotes from Easlea’s Liberation and the Aims of Science (1973) to say:

a nature of mere matter in motion has no rights. It is not a nature that rational men, after liberating themselves from its domination, will seek to communicate with … will seek to love through ever greater understanding of its ways. It is a nature there for men to use as they will (in Mathews 1994, p.32).

At least three centuries of accelerating ecological devastation would seem to testify to the intimate connection between our attitudes to matter and our attitudes to “the environment”. Not surprisingly then all the issues raised above which seemed to have been decided in the seventeenth century in favour of a mechanical, atomistic, secularised model of reality have been brought into question once again in eco- philosophical debates.

THE WHOLE IS A “SPIRIT-THING”

39 On this last question Mathews has stated that although panpsychism must be consistent with the truths of science, it can still question ‘the moral legitimacy of the scientific project’ (Mathews 2003a, p.9). Must the world be known, must it be investigated, must one retain a sense of objectivity and a distance from what is observed, must we expect life to remain silent while we go about investigating it?

262 Quoting the German philosopher Wilhelm Wundt (1832-1900),40 Urban once claimed: ‘the world must be cogitated either as a material or a spiritual unity, in so far as it is to be a unity at all. There is no third way’ (Urban 1929, p.296). As we have seen, based on a variety of scientific and philosophic insights, Deep Ecology has claimed for the world the status of unity, and the status of Self. Yet, it has remained largely silent on the matter of whether the world is to be regarded as a material or a spiritual unity. In view of Wundt’s claim, it seems that unless Deep Ecology wishes to maintain a dualistic cosmology, metaphysic and ethic it has to decide whether the world is a material or a spiritual entity. From the perspective of Platonism and Vedânta, there is no contest; if it is to make any sense, the world must be conceived as a spiritual unity. In Urban’s words: ‘The development of matter from spirit is intelligible, the development of spirit from matter is not’ (Urban 1929, p.297). Spirit cannot develop out of matter, just as the whole cannot develop from the part, so far as Hermetic philosophy, Platonism, and Vedânta are concerned - if for no other reason than the dicta, ex minimo maximum non fit and ex nihilo nihil fit: the greater cannot come out of the smaller, and nothing comes out of nothing. Analytic philosophy and modern evolutionary cosmology may see this matter otherwise. Much of general systems theory is an attempt to show precisely how the whole develops from the part. In Platonic philosophy, on the other hand, the whole is always primary, the formative cause of all that is.

Mathews has inadvertently lent credence to the Wundt/Urban thesis that if it is to be considered a unity, the world must be conceived as either a spiritual or a material unity. She has paid considerable attention to the nature of the One; and having explored that terrain has arrived at a metaphysic in which, if the choice had to be made, the world would be conceived as a spiritual unity. When pushed, as at the Philosophy, Science and Theology Festival in Grafton, Mathews was heard to say, ‘The world is a “spirit- thing,” a field of subjectivity potentially responsive to us’ (Mathews 2003b). She did not say, as she might have done, that the world is a “material-thing” responsive to us.

40 Dr. Wundt was Professor of Physiology in Heidelberg, and then Professor of Philosophy in Leipzig. While in Leipzig, he instituted psychology as a separate discipline. Wundt held that mind has primacy over body, and that spirit is fundamental to matter (Reese 1980, p.634-5).

263 Generally, Mathews has avoided theorising panpsychism on the basis of ‘any abstract concept of the divine, or ideality, or spirituality’ (Mathews 2003b). Nevertheless, while panpsychism points the way towards an end to spirit-matter dualism, clearly it is not at the expense of spirit.

In her speculations Mathews began with ‘the world that is at our feet’, but the tenor of those speculations both inspires and demands a redefinition of that world, a redefinition of matter that does not exclude from its parameters most of what exists.41 As both Spinoza and Bohm have pointed out, the last word has not been said on the nature of matter. In Bohm’s view:

Matter may be infinitely subtle. Science doesn’t know all about it, and probably never will. But matter is not just mechanical. Therefore, it could respond to perception in very deep and subtle ways which may be beyond what science could even trace … That’s the notion: that insight or perception will affect the whole thing. It not only affects the inferential understanding, but it also affects the chemical level, the tacit level - everything (Bohm 1996, p.83).

In a similar vein Spinoza once wrote: ‘nobody has known yet the frame of the body so thoroughly as to explain all its operations’ (cited in Hessing 1977, p.38). The same might be said of matter; no one has yet known matter so thoroughly as to explain all its operations, and some of those operations may be indistinguishable from what are generally regarded as magical or divine.

What Bohm and Spinoza reflect on in the above statements calls to mind a number of aphorisms, each of which in my view amounts to the same thing, namely: (1) “It isn’t over until the fat lady sings”; (2) “The story isn’t told until the last line is written”; and (3) an epigram of Wittgenstein’s, ‘the totality of facts determines what is the case, and

41 This would perhaps enable a redefinition of the divine along the impersonal lines of Platonism and Vedânta, so that we end up with a more rational conception of the spiritual, and a more spiritual conception of matter.

264 also whatever is not the case’ (Wittgenstein 1921/2001, p.5). Until the totality of facts is known about matter we cannot truthfully say, as many scientists have said, that matter is inanimate and devoid of mental attributes or that there is nothing substantial to or more fundamental than matter/energy. The story of matter will not be told until all the facts are known and the last line written.

It can be understood then, that the treatment of panpsychism, and the tenets explored in For Love Of Matter, admit the possibility that the world is a spiritual unity, a Self with a soul so to speak,42 if for no other reason than, as Mathews expresses it, we cannot make sense of the physical world if we ‘remain within the parameters of materialism’ (Mathews 2003a, p.8).

MATTER AS A UNITY

Panpsychism as elucidated in For Love of Matter attributes subjectivity, mentality, purpose, and meaning to ‘the material world at large,’ to matter as a whole, but not to individual objects such as lamp-posts:

Although all material objects can be said, from a panpsychist perspective, to have a subjectival dimension, it is not true to say of all objects that they are subjects, at least according to the present version of panpsychism (Mathews 2003a, p.28/33).

It is matter as a unity, matter as substance, that is seen as conative, and as possessing psychic or mental qualities (Mathews 2003a, p.33). This implies that the natural world is conative and mentalistic, but that hand-made or machine-made objects are not. This saves us from having to explain why it is not necessary to speak kindly to our desk lamps as we sit and type. Actually it may not be a bad idea to do so, but not because

42 Having said that, I should point out that Mathews has in no way allied herself with any notion of a divine principle substantial to the phenomenal world, as is fundamental to Platonism and perennialist philosophy.

265 desk lamps have feelings; rather it is the Universe in toto that may be sensitive, responding unerringly to our states of mind.

Physical reality as a whole is an indivisible unity, a self-realising system, which Mathews regards as the Subject. The empirical world is the ‘exoskeleton of subjectival process’, or the ‘external aspect of subjectival movements’ (Mathews 2003a, p.47/41- 2). In other words it might be said that the One is the subject which experiences life through the Many, which is its body. The obvious comparison with Sânkhya metaphysics is that purusa is regarded as the knowing subject, incapable of activity, while matter or prakriti is the field of all activity including the mentalistic.

In place of the divine, but in many respects commensurate with Upanishadic conceptions of the universal Self (âtman/Brahman) and Sânkhyan notions of purusa, Mathews posits a subjectival dimension and a communicative order well outside the parameters of materialism, a self-realising system comprising the One and the Many (its derivative sub-totalities). Consequently, panpsychism can be seen to overlap with Platonism and Vedânta in some respects. For example, Coomaraswamy opens his essay ‘On the One and Only Transmigrant’ with a statement by Sankarâcârya: ‘Verily, there is no other transmigrant but the Lord’ (Coomaraswamy 1977, p.66). He then quotes Hermes Trismegistus as saying: ‘He who does all these things is One … bodiless and having many bodies, or rather present in all bodies’ (Coomaraswamy 1977, p.66-7). Coomaraswamy shows that it is a basic tenet of Advaita Vedânta and of the Bhagavad Gîtâ that there is only One Transmigrant, incarnating (and reincarnating) in the Many (Coomaraswamy 1977, p.82). In the idiom of panpsychism this becomes “there is only one Subject”. Panpsychism refers to a universal Self rather than to universal selves, suggesting that there is no other Subject but the One, or that there is only one Subject. Whether or not panpsychism supports the doctrine of reincarnation (or transmigration) is secondary. Whether the one Subject transmigrates is irrelevant to the question of how many subjects are experiencing or witnessing the world. Either way, this brief

266 exposition should indicate that panpsychism is amply supported by Advaita Vedânta, Platonism, and Sânkhya.

267 THE ESSENCE OF MATTER

Rather than speak in terms of a divine reality, as is customary in many nondualistic systems, Mathews instead refers to ‘the inner presence of the world’, and to the interiority of matter: to ‘mental attributes such as consciousness, purpose, subjectivity, meaning and awareness’ (Mathews 2003a, p.21/26). Along with Spinoza, she holds that there is an “impulse” which permeates the universe, the impulse for self-realisation. Spinoza referred to the desire for ‘existential increase’ and ‘self-preservation’ as the conatus. Mathews quotes Spinoza to say that this endeavour is the actual essence of things (Mathews 1994, p.109). As such, it must also be seen as the actual essence of matter. Here too, panpsychism coincides with the âtman doctrine for, in Hindu systems of thought, the âtman is not attributed solely to what we think of as living beings, but, as indicated in the Aitareya Upanishad, the Self or consciousness is in every atom.

The Brihadâranyaka Upanishad describes the universal Self in terms redolent of subjectival process in the non-anthropomorphic sense indicated above:

15. He who, dwelling in all things, yet is other than all things, whom all things do not know, whose body all things are, who controls all things from within - He is your Self, the Inner Controller, the Immortal …

23. He is the unseen Seer, the unheard Hearer, the unthought Thinker, the ununderstood Understander. Other than He there is no seer. Other than He there is no hearer. Other than He there is no thinker. Other than He there is no Understander. He is your Self, the Inner Controller, the Immortal (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.84).

Numerous other passages throughout the Upanishads attest to the proposition that some sort of “endeavour” or “experiencer” is the essence of things, and that the Self that is consciousness is in every living being and in universal matter on the whole.

268 269 A COMMUNICATIVE ORDER

Developing her earlier work, and clearly not without precedent, Mathews builds up to a view of the universe:

as a conative unity, a self-realizing system that counts as a locus of subjectivity in its own right. This universal system/subject (the One) realizes itself through its creation, via self-differentiation of a manifold of conative sub-systems that possess a relative unity of their own, and hence qualify as derivative subjects (the Many) (Mathews 2003a, p.9).

Attributing a subjectival attribute to reality, Mathews then argues for a ‘communicative order’ inherent in the material world, rather than a divine order apart from it, arguing that we cannot know that the world is real unless it communicates that fact to us (Mathews 2003a, p.8/9). Being a self not only implies conatus, the desire for self- realisation, but also orexis, ‘the impulse to reach out to the world’ (Mathews 2003a, p.73). There are two ways of looking at this latter impulse that are of relevance to the present discussion. First, there is the simple fact that we as selves possess the impulse to reach out to the world. (The spiritual traditions suggest that the purest form of this is love or compassion.) Then there is an added dimension present in panpsychism, of the world as self, possessing both conatus and orexis. This implies that the world is also reaching out to us, and consequently, that in reaching out to the world we reach out to a responsive, communicative, living being: our equal. This has led Mathews to speak in terms of a communicative order, a field in which communication takes place, or perhaps better still, a field which is communication. Bohm's definition of communication as the creation of shared meaning (discussed in the Dialogue section below) is useful in this context. The communicative order is that in which meaning is created in the interplay of self and world.

Breakdown can occur in the communicative order for various reasons, particularly when either the One as world and subject, or the Many selves, are not able to ‘follow

270 their inmost promptings to engage mutualistically with one another’ (Mathews 2003a, p.74). Then, ‘the pattern of mutualistic self-articulation’ breaks down. When the One or the world is conceived as an inanimate entity (or as nonexistent), communication with it is not possible, because communication from it is not expected. Communication is mutual or it is nothing at all. Panpsychism therefore reverses the centuries-long trend of alienation, and enables mutual orexis, mutual reaching out, to take place. The notion of world as infinitely exploitable object is replaced with the world as subject, along with all that the term implies, including the possession of intrinsic and inherent value, purpose, telos and availability as a partner in dialogue.

MIND IN MATTER

AN ANCIENT PRECEDENT IN THE SÂNKHYA

It was said earlier that panpsychism takes neither a typically materialistic, nor a typically spiritual approach. Instead, panpsychism considerably broadens the category of matter and calls into question important elements of materialism in the process. Mathews has stated that so far as she is concerned, idealism and materialism are two sides of the one dualistic coin. Materialism explains reality in terms exclusive of mind or mentality; idealism explains (the same) reality without any reference to materiality. In her view:

The true converse of mind-matter dualism is neither materialism nor idealism but a position that posits some form of nonduality or mind- matter unity, implicating mentality in the definition of matter and materiality in the definition of mind (Mathews 2003a, p.27).

Panpsychism does not distance itself from matter but instead implicates the mentalistic and the subjectival in the material world. Consequently, it achieves results that are commensurate with a “spiritual” approach but perhaps without the same potential for

271 alienation from the physical and the natural. With some justification, Mathews sees panpsychism as ‘a truly nondualist view of matter’ (Mathews 2003a, p.27).

In a previous chapter it was shown that in dominant interpretations of the âtman doctrine, as found in the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gîtâ, the innermost self of all is at one with the innermost essence of the universe, the Ground of Being. A regular corollary of the âtman doctrine is a metaphysic which posits a material reality (prakriti) that includes within its constitution not only all of physical reality but all psychological or mentalistic elements as well. As already shown, these include manas or mind; ahamkâra, the “I-maker” or ego; and buddhi or intellect (Forman 1998 b, p.10; Pflueger 1998, p.48-51). The category of prakriti, matter or nature, includes everything that is, other than purusa which is pure consciousness, or consciousness itself.43 This is the basis of the Sânkhya system, dated to around the third century A.D. (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.425). As Feuerstein points out Sânkhya means “number,” and the system is so-called because it enumerates the categories of existence into either twenty-five major categories (twenty-four material categories plus pure consciousness), or two principal categories, purusa and prakriti (Feuerstein 2000, p.254). Purusa is the ‘knowing subject’; prakriti the ‘known object … the basis of all objective existence, physical and psychical’ (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.424).

The Sânkhya treatment of prakriti is of interest as a precursor to panpsychist doctrines chiefly because matter in the Sânkhya is nondualistic in the same manner as is panpsychism: it implicates the mentalistic in the material, and materiality in the mentalistic. As Pflueger44 remarks: ‘This is not the garden variety mind/body dualism encountered in Western philosophy! Here both body and mind are seen as unequivocally material’ (Pflueger 1998, p.49). Sânkhya “dualism” achieves what Mathews sought and found in panpsychism, the ‘true converse of mind-matter dualism’ which is neither idealism nor materialism (Mathews 2003a, p.27). Dasgupta describes

43 As may have been mentioned, purusa is known in the Vedânta as âtman (Feuerstein 2000, p.236). It is sometimes translated as “spirit”.

272 Sânkhya as a system characterised by, ‘the union of transcendentalism in realism and realism in transcendentalism (Dasgupta 1930, p.110-11). At the very least, the foregoing comparison indicates that further research into panpsychism, and its potential contribution to ecophilosophy, might profit from a close study of Hindu metaphysics. To the âtman doctrine may now be added the purusa/prakriti doctrine, as part of eco- philosophic discourse. In systems drawing the line between thought and consciousness, rather than thought and matter, thought is treated as a material process and consciousness (certainly in its deeper reaches) is regarded as beyond time and thought. As discussed in the following chapter, Bohm and Krishnamurti follow up some of the implications of this line of thinking.

The metaphysic briefly outlined above is generally described as Sânkhyan dualism, but it possesses many nondualistic elements. One has already been noted; the mentalistic is implicated in matter. Then there is a further level of nonduality consisting of the fact that although the world is neatly divided into all phenomena on the one hand, and pure consciousness which is its witness or background on the other, nothing can exist even for a moment without the active involvement of the implicit unity that is purusa or consciousness. The category of consciousness itself, purusa, is the unitive dimension of material reality, the substance that is in every part of reality, its innermost essence. It is not consciousness in any personal sense. Neither purusa nor âtman is consciousness or subjectivity as normally conceived. This is quite clear if we recall the fact that, in this system, the psychological or mentalistic qualities we generally associate with “consciousness,” “awareness,” or “intelligence” belong to the twenty-four categories of matter. What is left after the categories are negated is pure consciousness, regarded as the substratum and ultimate source of matter. Consciousness is thus the “witness” of matter, or the “subject,” in nothing like an anthropomorphic sense. To quote Pflueger again: ‘The eternal subject, the silent, inactive, sentient witness of all mental events, is not a personal subject’ (Pflueger 1998, p.55).

44 Lloyd Pflueger is Assistant Professor of Philosophy and Religion at Truman State University.

273 Finally, the Sânkhya holds that there is a manifest and an unmanifest prakriti or material reality, the latter being almost indistinguishable from pure consciousness. The unmanifest material reality is known as mulaprakriti, primordial root matter, from mula meaning “root” and prakriti meaning matter or nature (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.360). This root matter is the undifferentiated unitary substance out of which the cosmos and everything within it is spun or differentiated. Its existence represents another order of nondualism, with unmanifest prakriti sharing many qualities with pure consciousness or purusa. Both the unmanifest prakriti and purusa are described as uncaused, non-temporal, non-spatial, stable, simple, unsupported, without parts, and independent (Pflueger 1998, p.49). All that is unique to purusa is (1) its nature as the eternal witness of all manifestation; (2) that it is possessed of perfect freedom, known in the Yoga and Sânkhya as isolation or kaivalya; (3) that it is indifferent; and (4) that it is incapable of activity. As Pflueger sums up:

[P]urusa is consciousness itself, without intention or process, the indifferent witness of all mental activity … pure sentient presence without any contents, a “principle” but never a thing (Pflueger 1998, p.50).

The notion of purusa as perfect freedom relates to the Cusanus/Bruno doctrine of universal matter as the contracted infinite: only God or the totality is inwardly and outwardly free.

To summarise, then, the Sânkhya is a system that posits pure consciousness on the one hand and all qualities and categories on the other. The first thing to manifest itself is root matter. Most Hindu and early Buddhist systems share the view that primordial matter was born or emanated from its own nature, svabhâva (from sva “own” or “self” and bhâva “being” or states of being). Out of this self-existent plastic essence the universe and everything in the universe is formed. It is important to keep in mind, however, that this root matter is not devoid of or alienated from purusa or pure consciousness with which it shares many qualities. It is “matter “in that it is the material from which everything is formed, but that material is more like spirit-matter than like

274 matter as generally conceived since the seventeenth century. It possesses an inner forming activity, and is, in that sense, comparable with physis in Aristotle's system, which likewise contains within itself the source of movement or kinêsis.

In a similar vein, the Hermetic tradition holds that spirit and matter are the twin effects of one underlying cause from which they are never entirely apart. For evidence of this tenet we need look no further than the Emerald Tablet. According to Vedânta and Sânkhya, the nature of this universal material substance or principle is pure consciousness, just as consciousness is the nature of the Self. This latter point is most explicit in the Aitareya Upanishad where, with reference to all of creation including the elements, it says: ‘All this is guided by intelligence, is based on intelligence. The world is guided by intelligence. The basis is intelligence. Brahman is intelligence’ (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.63-4).

I hardly think that Mathews had the Sânkhya in mind when she formulated panpsychist doctrines in the terms that she did, but her version of panpsychism conforms to this dominant system45 of Hindu metaphysics in many respects. As already shown, the mentalistic/nondualistic view of matter characteristic of panpsychism also has precedence in the work of Bruno, Bohm, and Spinoza.

45 I say that Sânkhya is a dominant system of Hindu metaphysics because its view of consciousness and matter (with the category of matter encompassing mind) is shared by almost all Hindu systems, including Yoga and Vedânta (Dasgupta 1930, p.70-111; Feuerstein 2000, p.236/254; Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.424).

275 TOWARDS A RATIONAL MYSTICISM

Both Mathews and Bohm went on to discuss the implications for mind of their respective theories of matter, and to formulate new models within the field of consciousness. In the context of panpsychism, Mathews proposes an ethos of encounter in a dialogical relationship of mind with matter, and self with nature. Bohm has focussed on participation, process, and wholeness in the context of quantum theory. Both theorists pave the way for a reappraisal of what have generally been regarded as “mystical” texts, and consequently disregarded by all but those working in the field of religion studies. Spinoza had already significantly de-mystified mysticism, showing that it is as much the preserve of epistemology and psychology as it is of religion (as evident in Wetlesen 1978; Wetlesen 1979; Wienpahl 1978; Wienpahl 1979). According to Wienpahl, as the result of Spinoza’s work we are now able to:

see mysticism as less esoteric and more down-to-earth than is customary, and … we are given a better understanding of human nature than that provided in the definition of the human as the rational animal (Wienpahl 1978, p.211).

Therefore, it may now be easier to import into ecophilosophy the psychological insights of sources such as the Yoga Sûtras and the Bhagavad Gîtâ.

Robert Forman46 coined the phrase “perennial psychology” in an effort to sum up the attitude to consciousness or awareness evident in the Upanishads, Yoga, and Sânkhya, traditions addressing the ‘fundamental human psychophysiological structure’ (Forman 1998 b, p.27). Two claims of Forman’s system are of interest to the present thesis: that there exist in the human psyche universal psychological structures, Forman calls them “consistent” structures; and that the capacity for unitive perception or mystical

46 Robert K. C. Forman is an Associate Professor in the Program in Religion at the City University of New York’s Hunter College. He is the founder of the Journal of Consciousness Studies and the founder-director of the Forge Institute for Spirituality and Social Change.

276 experience is innate (Forman 1998 b, p.28). In several papers and books he argues that the unitive mystical state is not socially constructed, but is tapped into, largely as the result of de-constructing the empirical self (my words but his argument Forman 1998 b, p.28). In “Language, Epistemology, and Mysticism”, Steven Katz has troubled the notion of unmediated experience, to say the least, and seriously questioned the idea of any kind of non-constructed, innate state; arguing that ‘all experience is processed through, organized by, and makes itself available to us in extremely complex epistemological ways’ (Katz 1978, p.26). Though Katz does not see it that way, in my view, this still leaves a given experience separate from the processing, organising and leading up to it.

That all experience is organised and processed by conditioned thought may be indisputable, but that is not to deny the possibility of unmediated experience, especially if we agree that in all cases the word is not the thing. Words are descriptions of something, whether an object, a state, or an experience. The word chair is not a chair; the word God, if God exists, is not God. Words can describe, point towards, categorise and even suggest that one look in a particular direction or in a particular manner: but what is seen exists independently of words and thoughts (unless we wish to argue that only words and thoughts exist). This leaves open the possibility that what is seen in the meditative state, in which thought is silent, is something other than thought. Krishnamurti would argue that the instance of awareness, looking, meditation, is not shaped by conditioned consciousness, but that there is a very fine line, crossed in a nanosecond, between the experience and the memory and naming of it; or between the act and the “experience” of it. It might even be argued, as it often is, that where there is an experiencer and an experience thought has already entered into it: and brought along with it all the baggage Katz has so eloquently described in the above named article. Katz believes that there is epistemological activity in all mystical experience (Katz 1978, p.60). Patañjali defines mystical experience or yoga (union or integration) as the end of all epistemological activity, the cessation of all the movements of thought (citta- vritti-nirodhah).

277

Krishnamurti was well aware of the insidious nature of thought in the spiritual or mystical life, as evident in the joke with which he opened the Truth is a Pathless Land speech that is discussed later. The devil and a friend of his were walking down the street. Ahead of them they saw a man stoop down, pick something up from the ground, and put it away in his pocket. The friend said to the devil: What did he pick up? A piece of truth, replied the devil. That is a very bad business for you, then, said the friend. Oh no, not at all, said the devil: I’m going to let him organise it (Krishnamurti 1929/2000). Krishnamurti does not, however, deny the possibility of direct unmediated experience.

Katz, on the other hand, argues that not only the subsequent reports of mystics, but also their experiences, are ‘shaped by concepts which the mystic brings to, and which shape, his experience’ (Katz 1978, p.26). Thus, the Hindu does not have an unmediated experience of Brahman, he has a “Hindu” experience. Similarly, the Christian mystic ‘does not experience some unidentifed reality, which he then conveniently labels God, but rather has the at least partially prefigured Christian experience of God, or Jesus, or the like’. Furthermore, ‘the Hindu experience of Brahman and the Christian experience of God are not the same’ (Katz 1978, p.26). My argument is that although the Hindu does not generally have an unmediated or unconditioned experience of Brahman, this should not mean that there is no such thing as unmediated experience. In fact, my basic argument would be that the key distinction is not between Hindu and Christian, but between mediated and unmediated experience: the former remains in the field of the known, no matter what shape thought might give it (Hindu or Christian); whereas unmediated experience is an experience of the “unknown”, that which is unconstructed by thought.

Unmediated experience is a possibility for the human being, even though all experience is organised and processed by thought. What the mystic says about what was seen or experienced is irrelevant. What he or she says is always going to be processed and

278 conditioned by thought. The simple formula might read: where thought is, direct perception is not; where thought is, meditation is not. There is nothing in Katz’s argument to prove otherwise. Katz points out that not all “mystics” think in terms of unity. The Jewish mystical experience, for example, is not one of unity with God and loss of self. Katz regards this as strong evidence in support of the argument for ‘pre- experiential conditioning’ (Katz 1978, p.35). I have no argument in denial of pre- experiential conditioning, But I still think it is possible, in fact unavoidable, that Jewish mystic experiences A and then reports B. Jewish mystic interprets A as beholding the Divine Throne, or the face of God, where Hindu nondualist mystic interprets A as loss of self in the complete unity that is Brahman. All these remain words after the fact. I would argue, further, that for either party to really experience A, the self must be in abeyance, thought must be silent. The experience will not be of thought being silent: the experience will be of “what is”, whether that is some kind of transcendent reality or an everyday material reality. The silence of thought is the necessary precondition for seeing reality of any kind, as it is.

If there is nothing but thought, which is the conditioned response of memory, then we are living in a world that is nothing but a thought construct. Such extreme idealism is a possibility, but one that I do not entertain because I do not believe in the omnipresence or omniscience of thought. Indeed, along with Krishnamurti, Bohm and Plato, I believe that thought is a very limited instrument and not the whole of reality. Indeed, if unmediated experience is not possible at all, then where does intelligence enter? Without any input from outside itself, no open system can be renewed or sustained.

Ultimately, Katz’s argument will only hold true either if there is nothing but thought in existence, or something other than thought exists, but the human being can never apprehend, experience, or be affected by it. This radical alienation of the human from the rest of life, nature and consciousness is, in my opinion, untenable and untrue. It is highly likely, however, that overcoming such alienation is not possible for a Jew or a Hindu. Indeed, the argument might be that if you want to apprehend reality, don’t look

279 through the eyes of your faith, whatever it might be, but look with the eyes of innocence. Search your inner nature, as Heraclitus did, and see what is there, find out for yourself. Don’t assume anything. The Hindu and the Christian will see what they expect to see: but that is not necessarily seeing in Bohm or Krishnamurti’s sense.

YOGA AND FREEDOM

This brings us back to the subject of freedom. Talk of communicative orders in the context of panpsychism, and of communicative rationality in the context of Dryzek’s discussion of Green reason, has already flagged the necessity of a closer examination of what may be meant by communication in the eco-philosophical context. The mutualistic nature of communication has already been suggested by Mathews. Communication can only exist between two or more subjects each possessing the twin impulses for self- realisation and reaching out to the world (conatus and orexis). In addition to these basic conditions, the norms of communication theory enjoin certain types of freedom such as equality, non-coercion, and truthfulness: implying freedom from external compulsion and manipulation. These are necessary (but not sufficient) standards without which meaningful discourse in the context of deliberative democracy cannot take place. I think it is fair to say that, although the emphasis in communication theory has so far been on freedom from various forms of external compulsion, there also exists the potential for various forms of self-generated or internal compulsions which are at least as disruptive to communication and discourse. I will argue that freedom from oneself is a necessary prerequisite to unfettered and truly creative communication; just as Burtt argued that freedom from internal compulsion is necessary if corruption in office is to be avoided.

A study of Yoga and Vedânta would disclose that ignorance and bondage on the one hand, and freedom and wisdom on the other, are considered to be the twin poles of human existence, stretching from the most abject bondage to a state of complete psychological freedom. Far from being a state of sensory or emotional deprivation, as

280 might be supposed, freedom from the passions is said to be the fully awakened state known variously as nirvâna, moksha, enlightenment and Self-realisation. The Yoga Sûtras shed light on what might otherwise be seen as an esoteric feature of religious life, with little relevance to the majority of thinking volitional beings.

In Feuerstein and Miller’s A Reappraisal of Yoga (Feuerstein and Miller 1971) the authors outline the philosophy of the klesas or hindrances, said to be the causes of suffering, a philosophy that is fundamental to Vedânta, Sânkhya, Yoga, and Buddhism alike. The purpose of preliminary Yoga is to weaken their hold. But these hindrances are not external to us; they are the normal psychological state, what Forman might call consistent structures. As it says in Sâdhana Pada verse 3 of the Yoga Sûtras:

The lack of awareness of Reality, the sense of egoism or “I-am-ness”, attractions and repulsions towards objects and clinging to life are the great afflictions or causes of miseries in life.

These are the psychological afflictions. Patañjali is not making a value judgement here, or suggesting that there is something abnormal in these qualities. On the contrary they sum up rather well the constitution of the human psyche; but they will cause suffering as surely as the wheels of a cart follow the ox that is drawing it.47 The preliminary practices of Yoga are designed to free the practitioner from these hindrances, so that he or she may begin to see clearly and to live in freedom. Yoga is a system in which liberation is sought from the ordinary structures of consciousness that comprise the empirical self. Merging Spinoza and Patañjali, it might be said that under the bondage of the passions (the klesas), the higher forms of contemplation (samâdhi) that lead to the contemplation of God or the Absolute are not possible.

47 This expression alludes to the twin verses of the Dhammapada in which the Buddhist teaching on the power of thought is given, beginning with: ‘All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage’ (in Yutang 1944/1954, p.305).

281 The Yoga tradition, like Buddhism, is based on the belief that every action and every thought is the result of past experiences or conditioning. Krishnamurti and Bohm argued likewise. Feuerstein and Miller refer to this conditioning as: the ‘subconscious impressions resulting from past deeds determined mainly by ignorance, passion, aversion, I-am-ness and thirst-for-life’ (Feuerstein and Miller 1971, p.93). We are conditioned by these consistent structures of consciousness to behave in ways that will reinforce those structures. The ignorance or avidyâ referred to in the Yoga Sûtras and the Upanishads is the ignorance of the Self, which is pure awareness, and ignorance of the nature of things finite and infinite. Due to this ignorance we identify with the phenomenal and the transient objects of awareness, and with the empirical self. Vice versa, identification with the empirical self and the objects of awareness reinforces the ignorance of our “true nature”, the universal Self or âtman. This lack of awareness and its results rules the ordinary human life and leads to mental activity that is conditioned by the aforementioned klesas: attraction, repulsion, egoism, and the thirst for life (or fear of death). Mental activity that is conditioned by these structures leads to ‘non- meritorious action’ (sometimes dubiously known as bad karma). This action, like all actions, leaves a trace in the psyche of the “doer”. In the case of non-meritorious action, the subconscious impressions created will be ‘klesa -conditioned’, or afflicted, and so the cycle repeats endlessly (Feuerstein and Miller 1971, p.93).

On the other hand, knowledge of this process, or an insight into the structures of consciousness, can set in train a positive cycle. In this case, the subconscious impressions resulting from past deeds will be tempered by understanding or insight. Such understanding results in the practice of discrimination or discernment known as viveka, the discrimination between self and Self, between the permanent and the fleeting, between pure awareness and its objects. Being more discerning in this way, being a little freer of the klesas or structures of consciousness, leads to mental activity that counteracts their influence; one is less attached, less identified, less influenced, and therefore less prone to negative mental traits such as anger or greed. This leads to ‘meritorious action’, action that is born out of freedom or insight. Like all actions,

282 meritorious action leaves a trace; only this time a beneficial one. The subconscious impressions that are left behind meritorious or insightful actions lead to ‘better discrimination and knowledge’ in the future, and so the positive cycle goes on (Feuerstein and Miller 1971, p.93).

Wetlesen approaches Yoga in much the same way as do Feuerstein and Miller when he writes that the term Yoga, in the “mystical” sense, emphasises:

man’s effort to break away from the dispersion and automatism that characterize profane consciousness, and to gain a state of integration which may be characterized as a union with God, or with that which is conceived to be absolute. It is by identifying himself with Divinity that the attains this integration and internal freedom, which consists in a return from a fragmentary to a total way of being (Wetlesen 1979, p.144).48

What Wetlesen is here couching in terms of union with God, the transformation of profane consciousness, divinity, and the Absolute is what Feuerstein and Miller claimed would be the result of the attenuation of the klesas, a state of freedom. Wetlesen, Feuerstein, and Miller are speaking here in “religious” or “spiritual” terms, but the state of psychological freedom can be treated in more neutral terms, such as freedom from automatism, freedom from reaction, and freedom from conditioning. This has been demonstrated by both Wetlesen and Wienpahl in their treatments of Spinoza’s Ethics.

SOME OTHER APPROACHES TO FREEDOM

Wetlesen once remarked: ‘For the Buddhists, as much as for Spinoza, there is a necessary connection between ignorance and bondage under the passions, and between

48 Naess has said of Wetlesen’s work in this field that: ‘Among the contributions to a comparative study of Spinoza and Eastern traditions the recent work of Jon Wetlesen is in many ways outstanding. It combines a very thorough knowledge of Spinoza’s system with a not inappreciable acquaintance with meditation and Mahâyâna Buddhism’ (Naess 1978, p137).

283 wisdom and freedom’ (Wetlesen 1977, p.491). As we have seen, the early Buddhists were not alone in making this connection; it underpins much of the Upanishads. From Spinoza’s ethics of freedom Wetlesen derives a formula that he regards is a basic tenet of perennial philosophy, in the form of two laws governing the human condition:

If and only if a person is wise, will he be internally free. If and only if a person is ignorant, will he be under the bondage of the passions (Wetlesen 1979, p.10/1).

This formula equates freedom with wisdom, and ignorance with bondage, as Yoga philosophy is also wont to do; yet it appears to present something of a circular argument, or a dilemma. It states that unless a person is wise he or she will not be internally free, and also that wisdom cannot be attained without a certain degree of psychological freedom. This teaching proves less problematic, however, if one is not caught up in trying to express such matters in linear sequence. It could just as well be said that wisdom and psychological freedom appear together, or that they mutually create each other. Likewise does ignorance (avidyâ) coexist with bondage: Ignorance of one’s essential nature (as pure awareness) is both the result and the cause of bondage to the passions.

Like Spinoza, Kant also argued that there can be no freedom in the world of space and time: ‘There all events are completely subject to the law of , and therefore every human act is simply the necessary effect of its antecedents’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.148). Kant therefore reasoned that if it is to have any meaning, freedom must be attributed to ‘a non-temporal self’ which belongs ‘to each noumenal Ego …’ (Lovejoy 1961, p.148). In Hindu metaphysics the non-temporal self is the universally diffused âtman, whose nature, like that of God’s is, indeed, freedom. Freedom and universality appear to coexist just as freedom and wisdom do. As will be seen shortly, Bohm and Krishnamurti maintain that the empirical self, thought, or intellect, are each creatures of time and never free.

284 In a chapter titled "The Metaphysics of Morality", heavily influenced by Schopenhauer, Paul Deussen writes of three ‘transcendental truths mutually supporting, and supplementing each other’:

ƒ All that belongs to the phenomenal world lies in the bonds of space, time, and causality; the thing-in-itself - proved as Will - is, on the other hand, free from these intellectual forms in which the world is built up. ƒ If I look outwards, I see everything through the medium of space, time, and causality. If I look within, I perceive, under certain restrictions, that which exists independently of these intellectual forms - the Will as Being-in-itself, beyond which there is no being. ƒ If I look outwards at my deeds, I see that they all, being necessitated by motives, must without exception be as they are and not otherwise. If I look inwards, I find myself free and equally capable of willing an action or its opposite. In this consciousness of freedom is rooted the responsibility for what I do or leave undone … (Deussen 1894, p.241- 2).

Freedom then, exists only “internally” in the thing-in-itself, the Will, the âtman, always independent of the bonds of space, time and causality. Looking outwards we see the realm of necessity; the inner is the realm of freedom. There is a connection between the Will (as understood by Schopenhauer and Deussen), the thing-in-itself, awareness, the âtman, space, and the Logos (especially as treated by Heraclitus). Fichte’s notion of ‘undetermined freedom’ deriving from the absolute “I” can also be interpreted along similar lines (Bowie 1993, p.16). Bergson argued that life and consciousness are essentially free and elude the intellect's grasp (Lovejoy 1961, p.161). Life and consciousness bring the novel into existence; the intellect’s domain is that of mechanical causality (Lovejoy 1961, p.161).

Attention, meditation, insight, realisation, the intuition, and love are the way to freedom (with freedom defined as liberation from conditioned consciousness and the empirical self, rather than freedom from external compulsion). In the Yoga Sûtras and the Vedânta Sûtras "love" includes devotion (bhakti), the strong desire for Liberation (mumukshutva), and surrender to God.

285

COUNTERACTING IGNORANCE AND PASSIVITY

The penultimate paragraph of the Ethics ends with these thoughts:

… not only is the ignorant man troubled in many ways by external causes, and unable ever to possess true peace of mind, but he also lives as if he knows neither himself, nor God, nor things; and as soon as he ceases to be acted on, he ceases to be. On the other hand, the wise man, insofar as he is considered as such, is hardly troubled in spirit, but being, by a certain eternal necessity, conscious of himself, and of God, and of things, he never ceases to be, but always possesses true peace of mind (Spinoza 1996, p.180-1).

What Curley here translates as ‘hardly troubled in spirit’, Wetlesen renders as, 'scarcely ever moved in his mind’ (Wetlesen 1978, p.207), a translation resonating with the Yogic idea that contemplative insight leads to the cessation of the modifications of the mind, and thus to what Bohm described as intelligence. Such states are the result of an activity that is demanding and subtle, but highly rewarding. To quote Walter Bernard’s psychotherapeutic interpretation of the Ethic: ‘This activity of the mind counteracts directly the passivity and stagnation of the thought processes’ (Bernard 1977, p.77).

Although it is true, as Wetlesen points out, that the rigorous contemplative attitude of the Ethics characterises the sage; the psychology and ethics of parts 4 and 5 of that work are not only relevant to the sage, or to some other rare minority. Spinoza regarded this path or way as most difficult and rare (Spinoza 1996, p.181), but I believe that it also becomes increasingly necessary in times of social conflict and upheaval. When social, cultural, and inner change are called for as in this third or fourth phase of eco- political enquiry, texts such as the Ethic and the Yoga Sûtras can be mined for psychological insights that may assist in the cultivation of the “adequate cognition” and adequate response that are required. That is the manner in which Spinoza’s works have been treated by theorists associated with the Deep Ecology movement. I would like to

286 stress the point that adequate cognition is not “adequate” according to one perspective or another, it is adequate in the sense of “direct and complete” in the manner of Bergson’s notion of intuition, a form of knowledge that sees directly, ‘is transported into the interior of an object’, and is ‘absolute’ (Bergson 1961, p.1/6). It is adequate because it takes into account the beginning and the end of things.

One final point about freedom in Spinoza’s system might be reiterated. In keeping with the logic of Cusanus and Bruno (the idea of the contracted infinite), he argued that absolute freedom exists only for that which is absolutely infinite such as God or the One (Wetlesen 1979, p.24). Only God is both inwardly and externally free. Neither the human being, nor anything else in the material world, can be externally or physically free. As the Buddhists teach, this is the realm of , limitation, and suffering. There is, however, an inner freedom available to human beings, one that is related to the freedom of choice. Normally there is no freedom in choice, as we are prompted by unacknowledged fears and desires, likes and dislikes, that determine what we choose in life. But it is available to us to be free of the affects, or the psychological afflictions; free of the structures of consciousness. As Wetlesen expresses it, freedom ‘is purely interior for man’, it ‘consists in a certain kind of contemplation and love from the viewpoint of eternity’ (Wetlesen 1979, p.27). The Chândogya Upanishad also suggests that true freedom will never be the lot of the human being, but points out that freedom belongs to one who has realised the Self (Ranade 1926/1986, p.229). This relates to a further argument of Spinoza’s that knowing intuitively is ‘affective as well as cognitive’ (Wienpahl 1978, p.214). What we see in an act of direct unitive perception we become. Both Bohm and Krishnamurti argued that such seeing is freedom.

287 Chapter 6 Krishnamurti and Bohm

Given the value of the Krishnamurti/Bohm dialogues something needs to be said about the thought of Krishnamurti in its own right, and the relationship of his approach to that of Bohm’s.

Jiddu Krishnamurti was not an academic philosopher, nor was he a system-builder in any sense. But he did speak with a number of philosophers, scientists and priests over a period of five or more decades, on religious and philosophic themes, and also to mixed audiences numbering in the thousands. Born in Madnapalle, Andhra Pradesh, in 1895, he was raised by a number of theosophists, from the age of about thirteen, at the International Headquarters of the Theosophical Society in Adyar, South India. He also received a broad education in Western culture and thought, though mostly not at the hands of educational institutions with which he had a luke-warm relationship at best.

Raymond Martin, Professor of Philosophy at University of Maryland, College Park, puts the work of Krishnamurti in the following context:

Krishnamurti's thought is quite removed from academic philosophy, particularly in the analytic tradition. Krishnamurti wasn't interested in presenting theories; and theories are what academic philosophy is all about.

Rather than a theorist, Krishnamurti was a seer and a teacher … His talks were, in effect, guided . That is, they were attempts by Krishnamurti to go through an experiential process with his audiences … As such, his talks … make unusual demands on the reader, especially if the reader is a philosopher accustomed to looking for a theoretical punchline …

Instead of theories the reader will find, 'important insights, for instance, about the nature of identification and its role in the formation of the self. To have such insights, Krishnamurti

288 suggests, one has to look freshly' (Editor's Preface in Krishnamurti 1997, p.viii-xiii).

Many listeners reacted negatively to statements of Krishnamurti's which stressed the limitations of thought, an instrument he regarded as a limited means of perception, and potentially quite distorting, as did Bohm. His position is very like that of the Upanishadic sages and world-weary mystics of all ages. From the outset of his speaking/teaching career, which might be dated to the dissolution of the Order of the Star in 1929, people flocked to his talks in search of enlightenment, or what they thought was a search for enlightenment. But it may have been a search for feeling a bit better about oneself, or getting out of one difficulty or another. Krishnamurti, however, aimed to 'set men unconditionally free'. That was his statement in 1929, and he stuck to it until the end of his life in 1986.

The Order of the Star in the East was founded in 1911 by , then the International President of the Theosophical Society, to proclaim the coming of "the World Teacher". As head of the organisation Krishnamurti dissolved it in August1929, in what came to be known as the "Truth is a Pathless Land" speech. The Order of the Star had thousands of members and several valuable properties, all of which were none- too-gently let go in this speech, excerpts of which follow (and echoes of which reverberated through his talks with Bohm decades later):

I maintain that no organization can lead man to spirituality. If an organization be created for this purpose, it becomes a crutch, a weakness, a bondage, and must cripple the individual, and prevent him from growing, from establishing his uniqueness, which lies in the discovery for himself of that absolute, unconditioned Truth. So that is another reason why I have decided, as I happen to be the Head of the Order, to dissolve it …

You are accustomed to authority, or to the atmosphere of authority, which you think will lead you to spirituality. You think and hope that another can, by his extraordinary powers - a miracle - transport you to this realm of eternal freedom which is Happiness. Your whole outlook on life is based on that authority … For eighteen

289 years you have been preparing for this event, for the Coming of the World Teacher. For eighteen years you have organized, you have looked for someone who would give a new delight to your hearts and minds, who would transform your whole life, who would give you a new understanding; for someone who would raise you to a new of life, who would give you a new encouragement, who would set you free … In what manner has such a belief swept away all the unessential things of life? That is the only way to judge: in what way are you freer, greater, more dangerous to every Society which is based on the false and the unessential? In what way have the members of this organization of the Star become different? …

290

… You are all depending for your spirituality on someone else, for your happiness on someone else, for your enlightenment on someone else; and although you have been preparing for me for eighteen years, when I say all these things are unnecessary, when I say that you must put them all away and look within yourselves for the enlightenment, for the glory, for the purification, and for the incorruptibility of the self, not one of you is willing to do it. There may be a few, but very, very few (Krishnamurti 1929/2000).

A question he repeatedly asked is whether the listener is really serious about "enlightenment": because in fact the desire for spiritual emancipation or inner freedom is quite rare. In the above speech he said that he was not seeking to speak to 'those who are only momentarily discontented ', but to those who would attain to the spiritual summit, 'the mountain-top' (Krishnamurti 1929/2000). His message was for those few, five or so, he said, 'who understand, who are struggling, who have put aside all trivial things'. Yet frequently Krishnamurti would be questioned by those who clearly were not struggling in that sense. They were struggling with peripheral things, with hurts, injustices, thwarted desires and what have you; but not with the problem of conditioned existence as such. In Hindu thought the distinction is made between unlimited or true desirelessness, and a partial desirelessness born of some frustration or other. This is how it was put in the Yoga Vâsistha:

Limited is the Vairâgya [desirelessness] that is born of special cause … A touch of pain breeding dislike of that which gave the touch is lost in the next following touch of pleasure. But thine is the unlimited vairâgya that is born without apparent outer cause, born of the inner sight that makes discrimination between the fleeting and the everlasting, and with it realises that the fleeting, that which has an end, however long drawn out, cannot be separated from its parting and pain (Das 1927/1988, p.31-2).

Or, in another translation, the ‘highest form of dispassion born of pure discrimination … is superior to dispassion born of a circumstantial cause or an utter disgust’ (Swami Venkatesananda 1984, p.31). I think this expresses clearly the basic difference between

291 two quite different types of discontent or dispassion, lack of acknowledgment of which contributed to numerous misunderstandings. Krishnamurti was addressing the problem of "divine discontent" while his listeners were suffering from less profound ailments born of dislikes or frustrations easily assuaged by the next touch of pleasure.

Krishnamurti called for a greater degree of earnestness in those who came to see him, and he wondered why we are not deeply troubled in a world that is in chaos:

Having travelled the world over very often and talked to many people, one is confronted not only with the misery of the world but also with the utter irresponsibility of human beings, and one naturally becomes very, very serious. This does not mean to be without humour, but one does become extraordinarily serious and intense. And one has to be very serious and intense to solve these problems in oneself, because in oneself is the world, in oneself is the whole of mankind … (Krishnamurti 1972, p.104).

Martin compares Krishnamurti's approach to that of Socrates and characterises it as "critical looking" rather than the critical thinking practiced by Plato’s teacher (Editor's Preface in Krishnamurti 1997, p.xi). Both placed emphasis on the 'distorting weight' of accumulated knowledge. Krishnamurti's position on this was given innumerable times, as, for instance, in the following:

Understanding is not an intellectual process … Learning about yourself is not like learning a language or a technology or a science - then you obviously have to accumulate and remember … but in the psychological field learning about yourself is always in the present and knowledge is always in the past …

If you say you will learn gradually about yourself, adding more and more, little by little, you are not studying yourself now as you are but through acquired knowledge. Learning implies a great sensitivity. There is no sensitivity if there is an idea, which is of the past, dominating the present … (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.21-2).

292 Martin points out that science is one of the results of critical thinking. This raises the question of what might be the result of critical looking. Both Krishnamurti and Bohm suggested that some sort of inner transformation would be the result of looking, seeing, attention and so forth, that the two spoke about individually and together. This inner transformation, they believed, would help to regenerate society.

Krishnamurti's original contribution to the question of the quiet mind, which is fundamental to all religio-philosophies, is to point out the trap of seeking, and the problem of thought. He inspired and annoyed religious seekers and priests, in India and in the West, with his thoroughly uncompromising and radical position on the insidious nature of seeking, in the spiritual or religious context: insidious because we are unlikely not to be self-deceived. Krishnamurti maintained that before finding out for ourselves whether or not there is a Ground of Being, it is necessary for the seeker to understand the movement of thought. Thought is a movement away from the present, whereas the Ground of Being, if it does exist, is not in the future or elsewhere, but “eternally here”. Further, this Ground, the totality, cannot be an object of desire, no matter how grandiose or apparently “religious” that desire may be. Unaware of this fact, the spiritual seeker remains just as trapped in desire, just as narrow, just as isolated as those who seek more superficial things. Indeed thought, being endlessly inventive, can appropriate and distort anything no matter how subtle, how sacred. Thus, for Krishnamurti, the first and last step is to see that we are trapped in thought. Speaking about spiritual endeavour he once remarked: 'really serious people have …tried to find an answer through thought … And they never saw that they were caught in thought' (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.536).

His basic position was already laid out in 1929 and reiterated in "The Core of the Teaching" in 1980, written by him at the behest of his biographer and friend , daughter of Edwin Lutyens, the chief architect of New Delhi. Repeating his position on a number of issues, including the question of organisation, authority and method in the spiritual context, Krishnamurti says:

293

The core of Krishnamurti’s teaching is contained in the statement he made in 1929 when he said: "Truth is a pathless land". Man cannot come to it through any organization, through any creed, through any dogma, priest or ritual, not through any philosophic knowledge or psychological technique. He has to find it through the mirror of relationship, through the understanding of the contents of his own mind, through observation and not through intellectual analysis or introspective dissection (Krishnamurti 1980).

Another passage reflects his basic position quite clearly, in my view:

To seek is to deny the truth that is right in front of you. Your eyes must see that which is nearest; and the seeing of that is a movement without end. He who seeks projects that which he seeks and so he lives in an illusion, always striving within the limits of his own shadow. Not to seek is to find; and the finding is not in the future – it is there, where you do not look. The looking is ever present, from which all life and action takes place. Meditation is the blessing of this action (Krishnamurti 1991, p.29/30).

294 Several recurrent themes feature in the statement above: ƒ To try to become something that we are not, whether it be more holy, less fearful, happier, or what have you, is to ignore what we currently are (as we launch into an attempt to escape what we dislike or achieve what we desire). That is not to say that what we are is just fine as it is, rather, it is to point out that the only way to transform oneself is by facing, and directly seeing, what one is. ƒ Observation, attention, seeing, is 'a movement without end'; that is, it never ceases to be necessary and it is, in itself, without boundaries of any kind. It is infinite and limitless in scope and potential, taking us all the way to the ultimate goal. As Krishnamurti often pointed out: the first step is the same as the last step. ƒ Such observation, which is not seeking, is already to have arrived, not in the future but in the present, which is the only place it is possible to come into contact with the Ground of Being. The freedom to observe without striving is itself the goal. ƒ To Krishnamurti, meditation is not a method or a technique; rather it is the unbidden and sacred result of this diligent attention. As he once said: 'Meditation is actually seeing what is. But generally meditation is taken as moving from one reality to another' (Krishnamurti 1977/2000, p.26).

Krishnamurti and Bohm’s interests intersect in the wide field of the nature of consciousness. In his own words, Bohm’s main concern ‘has been with understanding the nature of reality in general and of consciousness in particular as a coherent whole' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.ix). He regarded consciousness as being in an 'unending process of movement and unfoldment' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.ix). The word “consciousness” here does not necessarily mean “thought”. The subtle layers of consciousness are beyond thought and time. Bohm also regarded attention as an unending, essentially boundless process. From an early age he was interested in the phenomenon of movement: in movement, 'one senses an unbroken, undivided process of flow'. The flowing movement of which Bohm speaks here is often blocked by thought, which tends to attach itself to ideas and feelings and not let go. Thought creates small eddies in the ocean of

295 consciousness. Another abiding interest was, the 'relationship of thinking to reality' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.ix). This is something he and Krishnamurti explored together often. If thought is a material process, as they both held: 'then, what could it mean for one part of reality to "know" another …?' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.ix). What is the relationship between intelligence and thought, between truth and reality? Krishnamurti writes:

Thinking is the movement of memory, which is experience, knowledge, stored in the brain … (Krishnamurti and Bohm 1985, p.66-7).

Thought, like memory, is of course necessary for daily living. Thought is the response to memory, memory which has been accumulated through experience. And from this background of memory we react and this reaction is thinking (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.54).

As every challenge is met in terms of the past - a challenge being always new - our meeting of the challenge will always be totally inadequate, hence contradiction, conflict and all the misery and sorrow we are heir to. Our little brain is in conflict whatever it does. Whether it aspires, imitates, conforms, suppresses, sublimates, takes drugs to expand itself - whatever it does - it is in a state of conflict and will produce conflict (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.140).

Krishnamurti argues that although necessary in practical daily living, thought is problematic in our psychological lives. It is essentially dull, reactive, past-bound, and thus of limited and questionable value in relationship. For the sake of sanity, and for the sake of self-transformation, it is necessary to understand the two kinds of thought; that which must be exercised with care in our daily life, and that which has no significance or use at all (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.136):

So let us try to understand this whole complex structure of what is thinking, what is memory, how thought originates, how thought conditions all our actions … (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.136).

296 And in this process, perhaps we will come upon something new, something that is untouched by thought.

Bohm's approach overlapped with that of Krishnamurti in several areas such as the question of the observer and the observed and the limitations of thought. It was the former that first attracted Bohm to Krishnamurti, prompted by his wife, Saral Bohm, finding a book in the library which treated of this subject. Bohm subsequently got in touch with the author via his publisher and thus began an ongoing dialogue between the two over some decades. Krishnamurti's "take" on the observer and the observed might be summarised in the following statements (though there are many others):

297 Any movement on the part of the observer, if he has not realized that the observer is the observed, creates only another series of images and again he is caught in them. But what takes place when the observer is aware that the observer is the observed? … The observer does not act at all. The observer has always said, 'I must do something about these images, I must suppress them or give them a different shape; he is always active in regard to the observed, acting and reacting passionately or casually, and this action of like and dislike on the part of the observer is called positive action - "I like, therefore I must hold. I dislike therefore I must get rid of." But when the observer realizes that the thing about which he is acting is himself, then there is no conflict between himself and the image [between himself and what he observes]. He is that. He is not separate from that. When he was separate, he did, or tried to do something about it, but when the observer realizes that he is that, then there is no like or dislike and conflict ceases … Then you will find that there is an awareness that has become tremendously alive … and from that intensity of awareness there is a different quality of attention … (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.134- 5).

In penetrating this question one comes upon the inevitable problem of the "analyser" and that which is "analysed", the "thinker" and the "thought", the "observer" and the "observed" … and the problem of whether this division … is real … Is the "observer" - the centre from which you look … a conceptual entity who has separated himself from the observed? … - is violence separate from the "observer"? Is not violence part of the observer? (Krishnamurti 1972, p.12).

On his own, and with Basil Hiley, Bohm explored the implications of some of these questions for science. He argued that the 'present analysis of the world into independently existent parts does not work very well in modern physics … [In] relativity theory and quantum theory, notions implying the undivided wholeness of the universe' would be more useful (Bohm 1980/1997, p.xi-xii). If we try to consider what might be the actual objective reality on the basis of our physical laws we are faced with contradiction and confusion. Scientists get around this difficulty by treating physical laws as irrelevant to the nature of reality, focussing instead on the development of mathematical equations that enable the prediction and control of aggregates of particles:

298 'it has become a presupposition of most work in modern physics that prediction and control of this kind is all that human knowledge is about' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.xiii).

Bohm argued that analysis of the world into independently existent parts does not work well in the environment or society either:

Indeed, the attempt to live according to the notion that the fragments are really separate, is, in essence, what has led to the growing series of extremely urgent crises that is confronting us today (Bohm 1980/1997, p.2).

Dividing things up is useful and necessary in practical, technical and functional domains but when applied to the self-world relationship and to the psychological domain it leads to problems (Bohm 1980/1997, p.2). As Bohm writes in Wholeness: the notion that all these things are really separate is an illusion, and interdisciplinary subjects merely add 'further separate fragments' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.1). Furthermore:

The notion that the one who thinks (the Ego) is at least in principle completely separate from and independent of the reality that he thinks about is of course firmly embedded in our entire tradition (Bohm 1980/1997, p.x).

There is a strong tradition in the East to deny this separation or to treat it as illusory, at least in philosophy (if not in practice). This raises the question: 'How are we to think coherently of a single, unbroken, flowing actuality of existence as a whole, containing both thought (consciousness) and external reality as we experience it? (Bohm 1980/1997, p.x).

To meet this challenge he proposed that:

[Our] notions of cosmology and of the general nature of reality must have room in them to permit a consistent account of consciousness. Vice versa, our notions of consciousness must have room in them to understand what it means for its content to be

299 "reality as a whole". The two sets of notions together should then be such as to allow for an understanding of how reality and consciousness are related (Bohm 1980/1997, p.x).

The 'prevailing tendency in modern science has been against such an enterprise' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.x). The urgency of this enquiry, however, is made clear in what Bohm calls 'the general problem of fragmentation', which he defines as follows:

[The] widespread and pervasive distinctions between people … which are now preventing mankind from working together for the common good, and indeed, even for survival, have one of the key factors of their origin in a kind of thought that treats things as inherently divided, disconnected, and "broken up" into yet smaller constituent parts. Each part is considered to be essentially independent and self-existent (Bohm 1980/1997, p.xi).

Under these circumstances we 'cannot seriously think of mankind as the basic reality, whose claims come first'; before that of the Ego or the group with which we are identified (Bohm 1980/1997, p.xi). There is also an inevitable tendency to feel radically separate from nature and to maintain a relationship of exploiter and exploited, with nature viewed as 'an aggregate of separately existent parts to be exploited by different groups of people' (Bohm 1980/1997, p.1).

BOHM ON MATTER AND MIND

Both Bruno and Spinoza developed an understanding of indivisible, unitary matter, possessed of mentalistic and subjectival attributes. Bohm's conception of matter, and of consciousness, the explicate and the implicate order, enlarge some of these ideas.

Bohm described his theory of the implicate order as making possible, 'the comprehension of both inanimate matter and life on the basis of a single ground, common to both’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193). That ground he variously described as

300 consciousness, the generative order, and the holomovement, depending upon how deeply into the implicate order he wished to take a particular line of thought. He has also proposed a new way of thinking about matter, consistent with modern physics, ‘which does not divide mind from matter, the observer from the observed, the subject from the object’. In Bohm’s interpretation, quantum theory implies that particles have ‘certain primitive mind-like qualities’ (Bohm 1990, p.271). This feature admits the possibility of ‘an intelligible relationship between mind and matter’, and yields a ‘non- dualistic theory of the relationship of mind and matter’ (Bohm 1990, p.272/276). Although Bohm is not necessarily a panpsychist, his ontological interpretation of quantum theory expands our conception of matter in much the same direction as does panpsychism (Bohm 1990, p.272), but it takes things considerably further.

The principle feature of the mechanistic order, in Bohm’s analysis, (and in Whitehead’s) is that it regards the world ‘as constituted of entities which are outside of each other, in the sense that they exist independently in different regions of space (and time)’. Further, they interact through forces that are external to them, and ‘do not bring about any changes in their essential natures’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193). The suggested the need to question the mechanistic order. That challenge was augmented by Einstein’s unified field theory, which demonstrated to Bohm that ‘the entire universe … has to be understood as a single undivided whole, in which analysis into separately and independently existent parts has no fundamental status’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193). Internal relations, interdependence, interrelatedness and models of unity can then replace the mechanistic order with its emphasis on external relatedness in the order of succession. The great achievement of unified field theory, in Bohm’s view, is that it shows how the “particles”, or the parts, can be seen as abstractions from the unbroken, undivided, totality of existence. Emphasis can thus be placed on the field, the totality, and the implicate or generative order from which things and lives and minds are temporarily abstracted.

301 Bohm proposed to call the undivided totality the “holomovement” (the whole movement) which is comprised of implicate and explicate orders (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193). The “parts” of nature are relatively autonomous sub-totalities in much the same respect as in the doctrine of panpsychism; both regard the Many as sub-totalities of the One. In Bohm’s model, the explicate order is the field of observation, consisting of ‘a set of recurrent and relatively stable elements’ that are outside of each other. This is the order that is ‘present to the senses’: the field of measure and of quantity (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193), not separate from the generative order, but contained within it. The explicate order is relatively distinct and semi-autonomous, but ‘the ground of this reality is the overall implicate order’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.188).

All of space and time is ‘enfolded in the depths of the implicate order going beyond both of these’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.190). Each moment in space and time has a local significance in the explicate order and a non-local significance to the overall implicate order (which then “reinjects” into the explicate order of time). Both the timeless totality and the relatively autonomous moments inform each moment and the whole (Bohm 1986 a, p.190). There is an ‘implicate counterpart’ to each moment which contains the projections of previous moments. Thus, all the projections ‘into any given moment will have the past of the entire universe as their potential content, which is thus enfolded into the moment in question … however, moments that are distant in time and space from the one under discussion will generally enfold very weakly’. Thus, each moment can be understood, or treated, both as relatively independent and not totally determined by the past (Bohm 1986 a, p.191). Bohm’s holographic image of reality can help to explain how the parts are related to the whole in the theory of successive emanations. The whole is enfolded in all parts of the “hierarchy,” though in some cases more weakly than in others. The emphasis in the theory of successive emanations, however, is not on the different levels or grades of being, but rather on the fact that all are connected to and embody the One, no matter how veiled or concealed that connection may be.

302 The behaviour of matter at the level of ordinary experience, the field of observation, ‘reduces either to that of Newtonian particles or classical continuous fields …' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.187). In the field of observation mechanistic explanations are (perhaps) adequate and useful, but Bohm maintains that the explicate order is not the basic reality (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193). The generative order is the ground of experience, the ground out of which the explicate order arises:

[T]he explicate order of succession, which appears to stand on its own, actually arises out of an organization that lies in the implicate and generative orders … The implicate and generative world is clearly the ground of all experiencing, and the explicate world of succession is constructed out of this ground. Through habits of thought and language, people have come to take the explicate world of succession as the true ground and the implicate and generative orders as something that is secondary … (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.190).

For Bohm it is the other way around: the implicate and generative orders are primary in every sense of the word. The more subtle effects of the implicate orders do not manifest themselves in the field of observation, or at least they are not available to sense perception. Modern science regards the field of observation and quantity as all there is. In contrast, the nondualist traditions discussed above tend to regard the phenomenal world as a veil hinting at, but also concealing, reality; a reality that in Bohm’s account, 'cannot be perceived by the senses’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193).

The field of reality in Buddhist, Hindu, Taoist, and Platonic systems is “the immeasurable,” to use one of Bohm’s key phrases. It is implied in Hindu mâyâ doctrines, to which he refers, that ‘when measure is identified with the very essence of reality, this is illusion’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.23). The word mâyâ, commonly translated as illusion, comes from the root ma or “measure”. The phenomenal world is not an illusion, then, it is simply a measure or a part of the whole (which happens to be the

303 field of measurement). Illusion and delusion creep in when the part is taken for the totality, or the phenomenal is regarded as all there is.

Although Bohm uses the phrase “inanimate matter,” it should not be assumed that he endorses Cartesian dualism or mechanism. Bohm argues that matter maintains ‘itself in a continual process similar to the growth of plants’ (Bohm 1980/1997, p.193), and he views consciousness as affecting matter in ways that would be regarded as impossible in the mechanistic order (Bohm 1980/1997). He often renders the word inanimate in italics, to indicate that it is not all that inanimate after all (for example in Bohm 1990, p.272). The vital source, from which matter is never entirely divorced, is deep within the generative order:

The root of what is manifest in these forms lies in the ultimate depths of the implicate and generative orders of the totality of matter, life, and mind. In this sense, therefore, even inanimate matter must have some kind of mental aspect … Of course, this does not imply that "consciousness" can be imputed to electrons or to other such "particles". This arises only at much deeper levels of the generative order (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.211).

Like Bruno, Bohm argues for a continuity of matter, life and consciousness, with no abrupt break in between (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.211). Furthermore, contrary to the assumption that science will analyse matter into ever smaller and simpler parts, Bohm believes that matter is thoroughly imbued with active information, arguing: ‘The information in the quantum level is potentially active everywhere’ (Bohm 1990, p.279), and therefore not indefinitely analysable.

Indeed, analysis of matter at the quantum level has revealed several highly surprising counter-intuitive phenomenon, including wholeness, nonlocality, and the quantum potential (Bohm 1990, p.281). Bohm explains that electric and magnetic fields depend on proximity or contact for their (local) effects, hence, the effect of waves becomes weaker as they spread out. On the other hand, ‘the quantum potential depends only on the form, and not on the intensity of the quantum field. Therefore, even a very weak

304 quantum field can strongly affect the particle’ (Bohm 1990, p.276). In order to help account for enfoldment, Bohm proposed the notion of active information: the ‘enfoldment relationship is not merely passive or superficial … it is active and essential to what each thing is’ (Bohm 1990, p.273). By extension, if internal relations, the relationship of individual entities to the whole, are essential to what each thing is, then the whole, or the One, can be regarded as the innermost part of the inner forming activity of everything in nature; or, as the Vedânta would have it, the ultimate cause of the creation, the preservation, and the transformation of the world and all that it contains.

In my view, the theory of unfoldment and re-enfoldment has the potential to flesh out the various doctrines of nondualistic metaphysics discussed in this thesis by offering an explanation of nonduality at the physical level, which may be applied analogically in the psycho-spiritual field. It is also of relevance to the karma doctrine discussed in the next chapter, possibly affording a physical explanation for adrsta, the unseen effects of action which carry on affecting the actor and the environment long after the initial act was performed. Active information may also help to explain the “memory of water” and the theoretic problem of the apparent efficacy of homoeopathic dilutions, discussed by Schiff in The Memory of Water.49 Bohm’s definition of the quantum potential discloses a new avenue of enquiry into this heterodox hypothesis.

Schiff conjectures:

[T]he hypothesis known as the memory of water does not imply negating the existence of atoms and molecules, but rather the capacity of water molecules somehow to organize in a stable manner and through such an organization to acquire the capacity of storing information obtained from other molecules. This stored information

49 Michel Schiff received his Ph.D from the where he worked in high energy physics. He then moved into the field of genetics and human behaviour before he began his investigation into Jacques Benveniste’s research on the memory of water. Benveniste was a highly respected scientist, prior to his attempt to provide an explanation for the possible efficacy of homoeopathy.

305 could then be played back, like a symphony that has been recorded on a magnetic tape (Schiff 1994, p.9).

Bohm’s description of the quantum potential suggests a possible explanation for the capacity of water molecules to store information and play it back. As already mentioned, the effect of electric and magnetic potentials ‘is always proportional to the intensity of the field’: But unlike what happens with electric and magnetic potentials, the quantum potential depends only on the form, and not on the intensity of the quantum field. Therefore, even a very weak quantum field can strongly affect the particle. It is as if we had a water wave that could cause a cork to bob up with full energy, even far from the source of the wave … it implies that even distant features of the environment can strongly affect the particle (Bohm 1990, p.276).

ORDER

In Science, Order, and Creativity Bohm and Peat are mainly concerned with the generative order as it relates to consciousness and society. Whether in regard to science or society, the generative order is 'concerned not with the outward side of development, and evolution in a sequence of successions, but with a deeper and more inward order out of which the manifest form of things can emerge creatively' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.151). They argue that it is impossible to subject economics, politics, ecology, and society to prediction and control and hope to bring about good order as the result (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.103/13). In order to bring order to economics, politics and society, something must take place at deeper levels.

The linear notion of order prevalent in the mechanical paradigm emphasises the motion of parts subject to mathematical laws (Merchant 1989, p.216). This may support the exercise of power and the ideal of control; but, according to Bohm and Peat, there is too

306 much complexity involved in the interrelated systems in question, for them to be subject to control on the basis of mechanical laws. Most important of all, they all depend on human beings:

And how can science lead human beings to control themselves? How do scientists propose to control hatred between nations, religions, and ideologies when science itself is fundamentally limited and controlled by these very things? And what about the growing psychological tension in a society that is so unresponsive to basic human needs that life seems, for many, to have lost its meaning? (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.13).

Arguably, such matters are not the concern of science, but the question still stands: how are we to control conflict between different sections of humanity, and control the escalating problems of psychological disease and ecological collapse? In short, how are we to bring about order? To answer this question, it is perhaps necessary to also ask, where does order come from? Is order generated purely within the explicate field of semi-autonomous parts, the field of succession - perhaps simply through chance, selection, and locomotion? Or is order generated from something more fundamental than the phenomena?

Bohm and Peat use fractal geometry to illustrate how hidden order can exist within apparent randomness (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.173). The Mandelbrot fractals contain a hidden order - the base figure and the generator - which then manifests the most remarkable array of complex images, including six-pointed stars, snow-flakes, mountains, coastlines and so forth: all based on a simple figure with a generator applied at different scales (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.152-4). This model might apply to the order of space and time, the growth of plants, the development of language, to music, to the process of thought, and to society (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.111). And it may help to answer the question, where does order come from? If order can be hidden within apparent geometric randomness, then perhaps order can also be hidden within the apparent randomness of life more generally.

307 Various types of order exist, including the order of number, the movement of particles through space and time, and the functioning of machines; as well as more subtle orders evident in the growth of plants, the development of language, and in society (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.111). However, science currently treats ‘the explicate and sequential orders as basic’. In biology, for instance, it is assumed that ultimately everything in nature can be reduced to explanations using such orders, for example, in terms of atoms, molecules, DNA, cells, and other structures (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.200). But Bohm and Peat argue that ‘a deeper generative order’ is common to both matter and consciousness, and that this order is fundamental. They believe that on this basis:

The wholeness of the living being, and even more of the conscious being, can then be understood in a natural way … Life is no longer seen as the result of somewhat fortuitous factors, which perhaps happened only on an isolated planet, such as Earth. Rather it is seen to be enfolded universally, deep within the generative order (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.201).

Ultimately, everything is generated from the holomovement, 'and what may lie beyond', namely, the totality (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.184). As all manifestations of order - mechanical, biological, hermeneutic and other - derive from the generative order, this raises the possibility that the totality, the holomovement and the generative order are of the nature of order, and that ultimately, nothing but order unfolds from them. This proposal is consistent with Bergson’s notion of order, as with Plato’s treatment of the Good and Plotinus’s treatment of the One, from which all orders derive.

Bergson held that disorder does not exist. In his view there are only two types of order: geometric or external order apprehended by thought, reason and analysis (comparable to Bohm’s explicate order and to Plato’s visible world); and vital order which is apprehended by intuition, or seen directly. Geometric order is secondary, vital order is fundamental. It is the latter that orders nature. Vital order is the 'natural order of life, while the order of the intellect is lifeless'. In Bergson’s view, the intellect creates an artificial or mechanical order, which may be of practical value but it is not the truth

308 about reality (Lorand 1992, p.580-87). In Bohm’s system, the explicate order exhibits behaviour susceptible of mechanical explanation (and other behaviours which may not be so amenable); but to think that this is the essence of reality is an illusion. And like Bergson, Bohm and Peat suggest 'that everything that happens takes place in some order’ (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.135). They also argue that the eternal and the secular are two extremes, 'between which lies a rich field in which new orders of society could be creatively perceived' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.140-1).

There is quite an explicit connection between Bohm’s conception of order arising from the totality, and the Krishnamurti and Bohm conception of intelligence beyond thought, a notion supported also by Bergson’s understanding of intuition. This goes some way towards showing the necessity of a new way of thinking about thought and the thinker, and to privileging direct intuitive perception, which, I argue, must form part of the new foundations of Deep Ecology. In this model, it might be proposed that order, peace and happiness are part of the deeper orders of being - as is argued in Hindu systems of thought which describe pure consciousness or Brahman as sat-cit-ânanda, boundless existence, consciousness and bliss. This being the case we need not think in terms of creating order out of chaos, surviving a hostile world, or anything of that kind; but, instead, find out what it means to live in harmony with the natural order, and not merely the order of physical nature. It becomes important, then, to clearly understand the difference between thought, which is a movement away from “what is”, and intelligence, which exists in the depths of life, or the deeper recesses of the generative order, and can be contacted only by a mind that is free from desire and fear, pleasure and pain, the twin impulses propelling the mind outward.

309 FREEDOM

In The Liberation of Life Birch and Cobb speak of an "outer" and an "inner" meaning to the word liberation:

Outwardly it is the call to throw off the economic, political and ideological yoke of the oppressor. Inwardly it is the call to be freed from the internalisation of the oppressive ideology (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981, p.1).

To this I would add a third meaning to the notion of liberation, namely, moksha: freedom from the (empirical) self, which is the goal of Yoga, Buddhism, and Vedânta. Birch and Cobb argue that 'When oppressive forces are removed, both outwardly and inwardly, people become more alive'. But they also acknowledge the importance of confronting and understanding 'the complexity and ambivalence of desires and being driven by impulses which are neither controlled nor understood' (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981, p.3). Among these they mention envy, pride and vanity. In the Yoga Sûtras these impulses are I-am-ness, likes and dislikes, and the clinging to life or fear of death, all of which are based on existential ignorance. So not only is independence to be gained from oppressive ideology, but from ideology per se and especially from its generator, which is thought or desire. That is the meaning of liberation in the Yogic and Buddhist sense, both of which treat of inner or psychological freedom as both the goal and the means.

Bohm’s understanding of freedom closely conforms to that of the traditions of Yoga and Vedânta, and provides a useful (post)modern interpretation. Bohm points out that in the West freedom has generally been identified with and with freedom of choice. The basic question would then be:

Is will actually free, or are our actions determined by something else (such as our hereditary constitution, our conditioning, our culture, our dependence on the opinions of other people, etc.)? Alternatively, can we or can we not choose freely among whatever courses of action may be possible? (Bohm 1986 a, p.201).

310

He and Krishnamurti tried to show that thought, conditioned by fear and desire, is never free. Indeed it might be argued, along with Spinoza and the Yoga Sûtras that freedom for the human being is largely to be understood as freedom from desire, rather than the freedom to choose among conflicting desires. Only God or the Infinite is free from the constraints of the physical world (dukka). Thus, Bohm argues that a lack of self- knowledge is a much more serious limitation on freedom than is knowledge of the external world:

No person can be said to be free who is for reasons of internal confusion unable consistently to carry out his or her chosen aims and purposes, for evidently such a person is driven by inner compulsions of which he or she is unaware. This inner lack of freedom is far more serious than a lack arising from external constraints or a lack of adequate knowledge of external circumstances (Bohm 1986 a, p.202- 3).

Bohm then goes rather deeply into the problem of desire, and the twin problem of our general lack of awareness of what motivates us. He says that conflicting desires we may be unaware of, and have not necessarily chosen with any clear intent, pull us this way and that. Furthermore:

[The] attempt of will to struggle against such desire has no meaning, for this sort of desire contains in it a movement of self-deception, along with a further movement aiming to conceal this self-deception and to conceal the fact that concealment is taking place (Bohm 1986 a, p.203).

This relates to the problem of the observer and the observed, or the analyser and the analysed, mentioned earlier. Is the observer separate from the observed desire: or is it really desire passing judgement on other desires? The only way to overcome desire, or to free oneself from it, is to see the problem of desire in toto; rather than react to one desire or another. Another way of putting this is to refer back to the discussion on dispassion in the Yoga Vâsistha. There are two kinds of vairâgya, the limited and the

311 unlimited. Limited dispassion is born of dislike and is soon forgotten when pleasure takes over once again. It is not possible to be free from what we dislike if we are not also free from what we like.

The main barrier to freedom, then, is ignorance of oneself, and not of the external world. Bohm argues that this ignorance is also the chief obstacle to true individuality:

For any human being who is governed by opinions and models unconsciously picked up from the society is not really an individual … such a person is a particular manifestation of the unconscious of humankind … A genuine individual could only be one who was actually free from ignorance of his or her attachment to the . Individuality and true freedom go together and ignorance (or lack of awareness) is the principal enemy of both (Bohm 1986 a, p.204).

If self-awareness is required for true freedom then the question arises, how does one come to such an awareness? Bohm’s answer is worth looking at in some detail. He proposes that:

[S]elf-awareness requires that consciousness sink into its implicate (and now mainly unconscious) order. It may then be possible to be directly aware, in the present, of the actual activity of past knowledge, and especially of that knowledge which is not only false but which reacts in such a way as to resist exposure of its falsity. Then the mind may be free of its bondage to the active confusion that is enfolded in its past. Without freedom of this kind, there is little meaning even in raising the question as to whether human beings are free, in the deeper sense of being capable of a creative act that is not determined mechanically by unknown conditions in the untraceably complex interconnections and unplumbable depths of the overall reality in which we are embedded (Bohm 1986 a, p.205).

For consciousness to sink into its implicate order it must have distanced itself from the explicate order, the world of sensation and thought. The implicate order of consciousness is consciousness itself, distinct from the movements of thought. From

312 that vantage point the movements of thought (citta-vritti) can be observed in freedom. Without such freedom, neither self-awareness nor freedom from conflict and confusion is possible. In the process, also part of Yogic and techniques, we have to come to an understanding of ‘just what is it in our past that binds us, misleads us, deceives us, and thus prevents true freedom …’. Bohm suggests it is identification that binds; ‘identifying with a certain part of one’s past that is regarded as essential to what one is’. He has argued that primarily, or essentially, we are the unknown present, and that if ‘we are to be creative rather than mechanical, our consciousness has to be primarily in the movement beyond time’, which is the present (Bohm 1986 a, p.206). Along with Krishnamurti, he maintains that lack of freedom ‘arises basically from identification with the past’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.207).

For Bohm, creativity arises directly from the holomovement, which is “timeless” in the sense that it is not of the past but exists always in the present. The human being who is free from identification with the past, actually, psychologically, and not just theoretically or conceptually, is ‘free to participate in the creativity of the totality’ which is eternal and infinite (Bohm 1986 a, p.206). Bohm argues that everything naturally participates ‘creatively in the actions of the totality’ but that in the human being ignorance, closely related to knowledge, blocks this creativity by encouraging the mind ‘to continue its past, mechanically, through identification’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.207).

Clearly, then, thought has a very limited role to play in creativity and freedom. It can also be seen that creativity and freedom mutually support each other I argued that without an understanding of the empirical self - its desires, its fears, the limits of its abilities - neither acting nor communicating in freedom is possible. Thus freedom is central to both Self-realisation and (surprisingly perhaps) to communicative rationality. Accordingly, I suggest that what is generally conceived as final liberation or salvation in the spiritual traditions here discussed is of more immediate value and relevance than might be supposed. This is brought out in Bohm's work on attention and dialogue,

313 Krishnamurti’s insight into the nature of intelligence, and the secondary role both have accorded thought.

TIME

Time is another feature of Bohm’s system, that he regards as secondary to the timeless, or the eternal: ‘The clear perception that we are the unknown, which is beyond time, allows the mind to give time its proper value, which is limited and not supreme’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.207). Thus, rather than inquire into the significance of time and thought for eternity, Bohm would like to consider ‘what is the significance of eternity for time and thought’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.208).

The order of space and time consists of ‘moments’, or what Whitehead called ‘actual occasions’. These moments are not isolated from one another, or merely externally related, ‘but are, instead, internally related extended structures and processes’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.184). Further, in each moment ‘there is a nested sequence of enfoldments of past moments … [and] the moment in question then unfolds into future moments …’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.186). Thus, ‘becoming is not merely a relationship of the present to the past that is gone. Rather, it is a relationship of enfoldments that actually are in the present moment’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.185). Each moment is internally related to all others in what Bohm called the horizontal implicate order. There is also a vertical implicate order in which each moment is related to the totality or the whole:

[E]ach moment of time is a projection from the total implicate order … The projection of each of these moments is a basically creative act, not completely determined by antecedent moments (though … it is in general related to these moments in a way that is part of a higher order of creativity) (Bohm 1986 a, p.189).

To each moment there is an inward and an outer dimension. The outer is the order of space, time and change in which each moment is comprehensively related to others and

314 to the totality from which they ultimately derive. The inner dimension of the present moment, is ‘ultimately the same as eternity’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.199). Causation is both horizontal and vertical, with what takes place in the explicate order re-enfolding into the implicate order. Thus, ‘through the infinite totality there is woven the thread of movement and the thread of being’ (Bohm 1986 a, p.200). The holomovement is the whole movement, which encompasses both evolution (becoming) and eternity (being). Bohm also suggests that the explicate and the implicate orders can each be studied in their own right, because they are relatively independent: and reflected in both is the infinite totality. However, together, they mirror the totality more accurately (Bohm 1986 a, p.200). Ultimately what he aims for is a perception of the totality in its unbroken wholeness. Bohm then asks, ‘how such an act of perception … will affect the totality (including the human being who participates in this act) (Bohm 1986 a, p.201). Clearly, he believes that such (meditative) perception is of great significance to the social, ecological, and psychological problems we face.

The relative “merits” of time and eternity is dealt with more fully in chapter 7.

THE ROLE OF DIALOGUE

I have suggested that a certain degree of freedom from the conditioned self, or freedom of mind, is prerequisite to the development of communicative rationality in the direction of Green reason, and to the panpsychist ethos of encounter. Bohm’s understanding of dialogue will be enlisted to suggest ways in which to move towards a nondualistic approach to communication, and to ethics. Bohm regards "free dialogue" as a key activity in which social, cultural and psychological conditioning can be dissolved or transcended (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.229).

315 Communication is fundamental to Bohm’s conception of society and culture. As he says:

A society is a link of relationships among people and institutions, so that we can live together. But it only works if we have a culture - which implies that we share meaning; i.e., significance, purpose, and value. Otherwise it falls apart. … This shared meaning is really the cement that holds society together, and you could say that the present society has some very poor-quality cement (Bohm 1996, p.19/29).

Shared meaning, a tacit agreement on how life it is to be lived, is the key defining feature of any culture. Indeed, culture and shared meaning are almost tautological terms. That is why, as Bohm argues:

People living in different nations, with different economic and political systems, are hardly able to talk to each other without fighting. And within any single nation, different social classes and economic and political groups are caught in a similar pattern of inability to understand each other (Bohm 1996, p.1).

Most important, however, the meaning that is shared in open societies is not imposed, but mutually created in the process of communicative dialogue (by which Bohm means more than negotiation, in Popper’s Open Society sense). In some contexts, communication might imply little more than conveying information as accurately as possible, but in dialogue something else is taking place:

[W]hen one person says something, the other person does not in general respond with exactly the same meaning as that seen by the first person. Rather, the meanings are only similar and not identical. Thus, when the second person replies, the first person sees a difference between what he meant to say and what the other person understood. On considering this difference, he may then be able to see something new, which is relevant both to his own views and to those of the other person. And so it can go back and forth, with the continual emergence of a new content that is common to both participants. Thus, in a dialogue, each person does not attempt to

316 make common certain ideas or items of information … . Rather, it may be said that the two people are making something in common, i.e., creating something new together (Bohm 1996, p.2).

Bohm then points out that such communication can only occur if people do not try to influence each other, and if they are able to listen. It is important to understand that anyone can engage in a dialogue if willing to do so, but it is not assumed, and should not be assumed, that participants will already be free of all assumptions, fixed positions and so forth. As Bohm explains:

[A] person may prefer a certain position but does not hold to it nonnegotiably. He or she is ready to listen to others with sufficient sympathy and interest to understand the meaning of the other's position properly and is also ready to change his or her own point of view if there is good reason to do so (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.241).

What is important is to be able to 'hold many different points of view in suspension, along with a primary interest in the creation of a common meaning’ (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.247).

Freedom of mind is thus necessary to dialogue as Bohm has conceived it. In order for someone to neither be influenced, nor desire to influence others, there must be a degree of freedom from inner compulsion. In a state of bondage to the structures of consciousness of which we are generally unaware, it is not possible to really listen in Bohm’s sense of the word, or to create something new in common. However, that state of freedom need not be permanently or fully attained before a dialogue or self-inquiry can take place. It is possible to suspend judgements and to be relatively open, and to still engage in dialogue with others and with oneself.

That the individual or empirical self is always conditioned is a basic tenet of Self- realisation and liberation doctrines, one that is readily borne out by observation. But judging from Spinoza’s Ethics, the Upanishads, and the Yoga Sûtras it is both possible

317 and desirable to be aware of the fact of conditioning, and to pay sustained attention to the process. Something that is not totally conditioned by the past may then enter. Without such freedom of mind true communication with each other, or with the earth, will not take place; instead we will remain in bondage to conditioned thought, continue to project unacknowledged assumptions about the nature of matter and the nature of consciousness, and continue to react to every situation on the basis of past experience. That is the likely outcome of carrying on as we are. Perhaps this is what is meant by, and all that can be expected from, the piecemeal methods of social reform endorsed by Popper and others highly sceptical of the “holistic” methods of nondualistic metaphysics and of Deep Ecology. In my opinion, the piecemeal methods of negotiation and compromise endorsed by cultural pluralism would profit from an adoption of Bohm’s notion of attention, and Spinoza’s freedom of mind.

Two of Wetlesen’s formulations concerning passivity and the affects are of relevance in the above context of dialogue and creative communication. Derived from Spinoza, Wetlesen writes:

If and only if a person has inadequate cognition, and he is ignorant of this fact, thereby mistaking his modes of imagination for real things, will he be passive and have passive affects.

If a person has an inadequate cognition, and is adequately aware of this fact, he will not mistake his modes of imagination for real things, and will be active and have active affects (Wetlesen 1979, p.18).

Freedom of mind might consist in two things, then, freedom from the affects or an active awareness of the lack of such freedom. It can be taken for granted that our opinions are just that: opinions. The aim here is not for some “true” opinion, which is an oxymoron, but rather for an active awareness of the fact that our ideas are not the truth. Then, not only will we be free of old ideas, and more likely to co-create and listen to something new, we will be more tolerant of the opinions of others. Bohm has

318 enlarged the potential of this freedom to include the possibility that we may be open to see nationality and religion as mere opinions and not truths to die and to kill for (Bohm 1996; Bohm and Edwards 1991).

It might be argued that in an open society, new content will always gradually emerge, regardless of whether or not we “really listen” to each other. The notion of a right way of listening, or a right way of communicating, is likely to be met with the accusations of totalitarianism that have dogged Deep Ecology,50 but I hope that the remainder of this chapter will further elucidate, and perhaps even vindicate, the nondualistic approach to communication that is modelled in Bohm’s conception of dialogue.

In an attempt to show the relevance of Bohm’s approach to dialogue and the creation of shared meaning, I now draw on an example proffered by Naess, which he used to demonstrate the validity of the ontological approach favoured by some Deep Ecology theorists. Naess relates an imaginary confrontation between conservationists and developers, but one that is actually quite common. He writes:

Confrontations between developers and conservers reveal difficulties in experiencing what is real. What a conservationist sees and experiences as reality, the developer typically does not see - and vice versa. A conservationist sees and experiences a forest as a unity, a gestalt, and when speaking of the heart of the forest, he or she does not speak about the geometrical centre. A developer sees quantities of trees and argues that a road through the forest covers very few square kilometres compared to the whole area of trees, so why make so much fuss? And if the conservers insist, he will propose that the road does not touch the centre of the forest. The heart is then saved, he may think. The difference between the antagonists is one rather of ontology than of ethics. They may have fundamental ethical prescriptions in common, but apply them differently because they see and experience reality so differently. They both use the single term “forest”, but referring to different realities.

50 Bohm’s biographer mentions that Popper ‘was sympathetic to Bohm’s ideas until the topic of Krishnamurti was raised. To Popper, the Indian's teachings smacked of totalitarianism' (Peat 1997, p.218). The question of listening and inner freedom, feature prominently in the philosophy of J. Krishnamurti.

319 The gestalts “the heart of the forest”, “the life of the river”, and “the quietness of the lake” are essential parts of reality for the conservationist. To the conservationist, the developer seems to suffer from a kind of radical blindness (Naess 1985b, p.423-4).

In the above, Naess makes explicit some of the assumptions that the developer and the conservationist may hold. By referring to ontology, he suggests that this is a clash, not of ethical values - both may be ethical human beings - but of states of being. Condition A, that of the conservationist, inclines one to see subtleties or non-physical realities such as “the heart of the forest”; condition B, that of the developer, enables one to see only ‘quantities of trees’. The implication (and possibly value judgement) evident in Naess’s use of language is that the conservationist is able to recognise quality where the developer can only see quantity.

I wish to suggest another way of looking at the same scenario, a type of gestalt switch, consistent with the Deep Ecology approach and with notions of communicative rationality. Instead of simply stating that this is the conflict between developer and conservationist, inevitable unless the developer “sees the light” as it were, I would like to ask whether it would be possible for developer and conservationist to create a new shared meaning that would resolve this apparently intractable problem. At first glance this may appear to be impossible; I am certainly not suggesting that it would be easy, or swift, or that it should entirely replace other axiological and ontological approaches. I am, however, proposing that at this point something like Bohm’s understanding of dialogue might be introduced into the tool kit of environmental philosophy, along with existing resources.

We might then ask how are the developer and the conservationist to come to a common understanding or shared meaning? That seems to be an urgent question arising from the conflict between two protagonists representing different cultures of meaning, incomprehensible to each other. I think it is fair to say that the developer and the conservationist are typically regarded as two distinct cultures unlikely to meet except in

320 conflict. The problem confronting society, however, is that the developer and the conservationist do not represent two separate cultures; they are two opposing elements of one culture, our own, which in this respect can be seen as internally conflicted or incoherent. Perhaps what is lacking is a shared meaning that has been created in a process of open communication.

Our society threatens to split apart under the strain of attempting to deal with mounting ecological problems in a coherent way. This is a crisis in culture and communication as much as of ecosystem collapse. As such, it could be treated as an opportunity to advance the project of democracy, if such things as Bohm’s work on dialogue were to be taken seriously. An understanding of the limits of thought, the nature of attention, and the potential of dialogue, could augment the expanded form of communicative rationality discussed by Dryzek, Barry and others, without supporting the reductive instrumentalism of the past few centuries, and without succumbing to totalitarian impulses.

Certainly Bohm and Peat believe that a great deal of misinformation circulating within society, contributing to its degeneration, needs to be exposed, attended to, and thus dissolved (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.237). This misinformation exists in the 'general principles, general aims, and generally accepted values, attitudes, and beliefs of all kinds that are associated with the family, work, religion, and country' - all of which lie largely unacknowledged and unquestioned, determining so much of what we do, think and feel (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.238). One assumption held dear is that these assumptions are fixed, necessary, or natural. In dialogue, such assumptions, which presently act as a barrier to communication and to perception, can be revealed, examined, and ultimately dissolved (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.243).

THE UNTAPPED POTENTIAL OF ATTENTION

321 Callicott called for an objective ethic not dependent on any mystical intuitive faculty, because he felt that such a faculty was neither universally diffused nor evenly mastered. At the same time, he affirmed that human beings are the source of value, if not its locus (Callicott 1985, p.260). In chapter 1, I argued that if value is in some respects anthropogenic, then the perception of value must be a faculty, if not ‘mystical intuitive’, then at least intuitive in the Platonic sense. Now that Bohm’s notion of dialogue has been introduced to the debate, I believe this argument can be further elucidated with recourse to Bohm’s treatment of the limitations of thought and the power of attention.

Before proceeding with Bohm’s analysis, I would like to iterate the fact that Western philosophers outside the analytic tradition, from Plato onwards, have regarded intuition as a distinct faculty, in some respects superior to reason; as have Eastern philosophers from Patañjali and Sankarâcârya to Lao Tzu and Zoroaster. Hindu metaphysics generally accepts the Sânkhyan treatment of “mind” as consisting of three distinct functions: the higher faculties of the intellect such as buddhi, which includes direct intuitive perception and contemplation (the field of gnosis or jñâna); manas, the organ of cognition; and ahamkâra, the I-making principle (Schweizer 1993, p.848). has generally ignored both the I-maker and the higher faculties of intuition and insight, focussing instead on the organ of cognition, which in Sânkhya is but one of our mental or intellectual faculties. As shown above, Bohm has paid attention to the I- maker, including its inherent processes of self-deception and concealment. It is not necessary to wade into the argument as to whether reason or insight, manas or buddhi, is the superior faculty. In Sânkhya neither one nor the other would be regarded as superior. What we call the mind simply has three faculties: insight, cognition, and I- ness. To be human is to possess all three, whether we are aware of it or not. It might well be argued that each faculty has its drawbacks and virtues, but we cannot do without any of them.

In the following, the suggestion will again be made that reason and thought are the products of time, and exist in time, but that attention - like intuition - exists in the aspect

322 of eternity which is ever present. For this purpose, eternity is defined in the manner of Wetlesen, not as indefinite duration, but as incommensurable with time and existing in the present (Wetlesen 1979, p.18/9). As the unitive dimension, eternity is always here; whereas thought is a movement in time based on the past and away from the present. Thus there is a significant correlation between attention, which is not born of thought, and eternity, which is not born of time. In fact it could be argued that attention is the door to eternity, eternity being synonymous with the pure consciousness that exists in the deepest recesses of the generative order.

Such rarefied expectations notwithstanding, there is a feature of Bohm’s treatment of attention that is highly egalitarian. He assumed that although people are of varying abilities so far as the content of thought is concerned, it is possible for anyone to pay attention in the present moment, given the will to do so. Furthermore, he believed sustained attention has a power that ordinary thought does not. What Bohm calls “literal thought” is a system of sensory inputs and representations built on the past. Lee Nichol points out that viewed by Bohm, thought is ‘an inherently limited medium, rather than an objective representation of reality’ (in Bohm 1996, p.vii). As such, it cannot contain the “unlimited,” the new, or the present moment (Bohm 1996, p.38). There is, however, a simple faculty described by Bohm as “attention” (and by Bergson as intuition), which he regarded as unlimited in nature and scope (Bohm 1996, p.93).

Bohm suggests that there may be a potential energy or power in attention akin to the power of laser beams. As he explained:

Ordinary light is called “incoherent” which means that it is going in all sorts of directions, and the light waves are not in phase with each other so they don’t build up. But a laser produces a very intense beam which is coherent. The light waves build up strength because they are all going in the same direction. This beam can do all sorts of things that ordinary light cannot (Bohm 1996, p.14).

Similarly, attention is not deflected by desire or by habit in the way that thought is, and might thus be regarded as coherent and very intense. I pointed out earlier that samâdhi,

323 sometimes translated as concentration, ecstasy, or meditation, has been described as a highly coherent form of mental (in)activity. The intensity of a laser beam, in which all the light waves are in phase with each other, is an apt analogy for the state of samâdhi, which comes about through a type of one-pointed concentration. This, in my view, brings Bohm’s understanding of attention into line with Yogic and Vedantic conceptions of contemplation and concentration.

Bohm and Peat classify Yoga among traditions such as Taoism and Buddhism in which awareness techniques, and 'a certain kind of inaction [that] is itself an action … the very highest form of action' are to be found (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.255). They argue that in certain types of Yoga, the suspension of outward movement, and the suspension of thought, enables a deeper inward movement to take place. Careful attention, 'especially to the inward responses of mind and body to these suspensions of outward activity … bring the blockages into awareness', an act which allows those blockages to be dissolved (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.257). According to Bohm and Peat: 'Approaches of this kind move in the direction of the transcendental, in that they ultimately merge with the religious-philosophical goal of union of the individual with the ultimate totality' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.257).

Bohm, however, develops the above-mentioned ideas in a direction not taken by Yoga or the Upanishads, when he suggests:

[I]f people were to think together in a coherent way, it would have tremendous power. That’s the suggestion. If we have a dialogue situation … then we might have such a coherent movement of thought, a coherent movement of communication … (Bohm 1996, p.14).

Bohm's notion of thinking together should not be confused with debating, discussing, or analysing a situation or theory together. A more apt expression might be "contemplate together", or pay attention at the same time and with a similar intensity to the same thing. Bohm believed that through such “unlimited attention,” involving the suspension of thought, we could ‘move into more and more subtle levels of the implicate order - the

324 more general levels of the whole process’ (Bohm 1996, p.93). When rigid structures, in the form of fixed assumptions, are loosened, 'the mind begins to move in a new order’. This opens out ‘rich new areas for creativity’ that lie between the fixed extremes of our thinking (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.244-5). What is said here of the process of dialogue equally applies to our thinking generally. Rich new areas of creativity lie in between the extremes of time and eternity, the One and the Many, plurality and nonduality, and transcendence. Elaborating on this idea, they say that creative intelligence, ‘may generally be regarded as the ability to perceive new categories and new orders “between” the older ones’. This is not just a matter of “mixing” the extremes, or ‘selecting useful bits’ from them, but rather finding a new field of creativity that is ‘qualitatively different from either of the extremes’ (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.266).

To be in the present and to be aware, which is to suspend thought, requires sensitivity and tremendous energy. In a paper on the subject of insight, education, and value, Bohm suggested that bringing this type of insight to bear on our whole system of values, or in this case on the process of thought, ‘requires an energy, a passion, a seriousness, beyond even that needed to make creative and original discoveries in science, in art, or in other such fields’ (Bohm 1980, p.22). I am suggesting, following Bohm, that demanding as it may be, anyone can give this attention if they wish, or if they are moved to do so, and that if we want society to be coherent or integrated we must pay attention to such things as the nature and process of thought.

I earlier noted that both Barry and Dryzek suggest that the project of deliberative democracy be enhanced by an expanded form of communicative rationality. In Dryzek’s model, the norms of communication theory such as equality, non-coercion, and truthfulness would be augmented by ecological principles such as homeostasis and resilience, that ‘would always be applied, debated, redeemed, or rejected’ (Dryzek 1990, p.204). Barry has suggested that the interests of future generations and the natural world could be included in the democratic process by representative forms of

325 democracy (Barry 1999, p.221). He envisages the further development of deliberative democratic institutions such as citizen’s juries, community participation in local government decision-making, environmental mediation, public inquiries, and the Agenda 21 process (Barry 1999, p.216). All of this raises the question whether such high expectations for deliberative democracy are realisable within the present framework, which largely ignores the frame of mind possessed by those involved in such deliberations.

Critics have attempted to replace Deep Ecology’s emphasis on the state of consciousness with a democratic process, but it has to be admitted that these processes are enacted by and inhere in people. Accordingly, the state of mind of those involved will always be an important factor. Deep Ecology merely asks what prudence would dictate, that the human factor be not ignored. If the participants in deliberative processes are in bondage to the passions, in the Spinozan sense, or unaware of the processes of self-deception, will those deliberations be free and fair or truly creative? In the absence of freedom of mind, and without any training in the art of listening and the suspension of thought (or desire), will it really be Green reason at work, or is it more likely to be a case of business as usual, as the work of Eder, Hajer, and others have suggested (Eder 1996, Hajer 1996)?

Recent research in consciousness studies, and the nature of thought, ought to provide sufficient support for the above doctrines of inner freedom, creativity and attention to be brought to the forefront in eco-philosophical debates. Bohm admits that it is difficult to pay attention to thought as a process, but argues that we must pay attention to it, because when we do not pay attention to things either in the material or the psychological realm they run amok. He believes that unless we attend to the process of thought our thinking is bound to lead to incoherence and to break things up, not only at the conceptual level but within society as well. As thought is a process, we should be able to pay attention to it, just as we pay attention to processes taking place externally in the material world (Bohm 1996, p.50). Introducing this type of attention into our

326 communicative practices (including those of conflict resolution) may go some way towards engendering the attitude of listening, encounter, and adequate cognition of which Bohm, Spinoza, and Mathews speak.

In the next chapter I attempt to pull the threads of this thesis together and lay some possible foundations for a nondualistic framework for environmental ethics and Deep Ecology. I also outline a nondualistic approach to ethics and to action, with recourse to the doctrine of karma. The karma doctrine shifts attention away from the question of moral considerability and the objects of ethical concern. with which ecophilosophy has been engaged, onto largely neglected matters concerning the quality of action and the state of mind of the actor. Chapter 7 argues that freedom of mind is as important to ethics as it is to communication.

327 Chapter 7 Foundations for a Nondualistic Framework

Before outlining the new metaphysic arising from the preceding discussion, I would like to restate the Deep Ecology approach and remind the reader where Deep Ecology seems to be lacking as a metaphysic. This will serve to answer Dobson's question:

[T]he metaphysics advanced by deep ecology is (to say the least) taking its time getting a grip, and the self-identification with the non-human world demanded by it is restricted - in “advanced industrial countries” at least - to isolated pockets of well-meaning radicals. Deep ecology has asked: “Where does the ethics come from?” and has answered: from a metaphysics. But its long-term problem may lie in finding an answer to the question:“Where does the metaphysics come from?”(Dobson 1990/1995, p.60).

One response to Dobson is to say that, at least according to Devall and Sessions, a great part of Deep Ecology’s metaphysics comes from various traditions of (mainly) nondualistic metaphysics in which unitive contemplation features prominently as both means and goal. At first glance, the metaphysics of Deep Ecology appears to have been derived from the Presocratic Greeks, Taoism, Native American traditions, Mahâyâna Buddhism, elements of Hindu thought and process philosophy, each of which have frequently been cited by Deep Ecology theorists as its progenitors. But what is the metaphysics of Deep Ecology, apart from the “intuition” of biospherical egalitarianism? It is difficult to say, because on the whole Deep Ecology has not undertaken to answer this question in any detail.

Naess once expressed the view that:

The environmental crisis could inspire a new renaissance; new social forms for co-existence together with a high level of culturally integrated technology, economic progress (with less interference), and a less restricted experience of life (Naess 1989, p.26).

328

Yet Naess did not provide the cosmology or metaphysics that would necessarily dispose us towards new social forms, or inspire a cultural renaissance. The approach taken by Naess and other Deep Ecology theorists has been schematic and axiomatic, as Mathews has remarked.

It was shown in chapter 2 that Deep Ecology emerged in the context of an enquiry into the social, philosophical, and cultural causes of the ecological crisis, initiated by Rachel Carson, Lynn White Jr., Garret Hardin, and The Club of Rome, among others. This represented what Robyn Eckersley described as the third phase of eco-political enquiry, in which the ecological crisis was no longer viewed solely as a problem of survival, but also as an opportunity for social transformation. From the outset Deep Ecology addressed a number of profound questions that had been raised in proto-Deep Ecology texts such as Silent Spring, and ‘The Historical Roots of the Ecologic Crisis’. It also situated itself in the ranks of the (largely undefined) perennial philosophy, embraced various nondualist approaches, and drew inspiration from quantum physics and ecology which appear to give credence to a worldview that does not segregate consciousness from matter, humanity from nature, or self from non-self.

Somewhat contradictorily, however, Deep Ecology theorists have resiled from traditional spiritual interpretations of Self-realisation, unitive contemplation and the potential sense of oneness, without attempting to give a modern or post-modern interpretation of such doctrines, as Griffin has done in Primordial Truth and Postmodern Theology (Griffin and Smith 1989). Naess explains that he gives Self- realisation an "expanded meaning" ‘by broadening and deepening the self’, to take nature into account (Naess 1995 a, p.80). But this is not the original notion of Self- realisation as it appears in the Brhadâranyaka Upanishad and the Bhagavad Gîtâ, nor does it develop the idea much at all.

329 Zimmerman has noted that, notwithstanding occasional affirmations of nondualistic doctrines, Deep Ecology seems to affirm a ‘one-level universe’ in not accounting for different levels of awareness or consciousness, actual and potential. This is in contrast to the nondualistic systems herein discussed. Being wary of the hierarchic Great Chain of Being idea, and not wishing to take the higher, transcendent ground, Deep Ecology has not much engaged with ‘transpersonal psychology’s argument that attempts to dominate nature will end only when humankind evolves to a higher, more integrated level of consciousness’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.88). Zimmerman is referring to Wilber’s understanding of the evolutionary development of nondual consciousness and Self- realisation that I have already briefly discussed. It is important to distance this idea from totalising evolutionary narratives. Having introduced Heidegger into the tool-kit of environmental philosophy, originally regarding him as a ‘sophisticated counterculturalist’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.4), Zimmerman now sees what Heidegger means by transcendence as vastly different to what is meant in âtman doctrines whether expressed by Naess, Wilber, or the Bhagavad Gîtâ.51

Naess was inspired by the notion of the âtman as the transcendent, ‘nondual, generative consciousness’ which features prominently in the world religions (Zimmerman 1994, p.148). Heidegger’s regressive anti-, on the other hand, is ‘consistent with the critique advanced by Nazism’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.105) The âtman doctrine of the Gîtâ and the Upanishads does not bestow privilege, dominance, authority, superiority or anything of the kind. These features of the empirical self, stemming largely from the I- making principle (ahamkâra), must be negated or transcended for the universally diffused âtman to be realised. Zimmerman does not focus so much on the latter argument, but does suggest that Deep Ecology’s norm of Self-realisation is ‘consistent with a “progressive” view of history, according to which humanity … may be gradually maturing or evolving in such a way as to realize a hidden potential for caring

51 A more favourable view of Heidegger is given in “Heidegger and Heraclitus on ” (Zimmerman 1983), and “Ken Wilber’s Critique of Ecological Spirituality” (Zimmerman 2001, p.252/6).

330 for all beings’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.106). Naess, however, did not take up this sort of argument, choosing instead to take Self-realisation on board in a more cursory fashion.

As shown in chapter 1, the consensus of ecophilosophy seems to be that a portion of the problems engendered by the dominance of Enlightenment ideology can be attributed to anthropocentrism, which is thus in need of some correction, if not outright abandonment. It seems to me, however, that in finally moving on from the seventeenth century, which is ideologically about where we are at presently, two avenues are not open to us. First, it is not possible to return to some imagined pre-seventeenth-century golden age in which the world was a more integrated and healthy place. Equally implausible is a wholesale abandonment of Enlightenment ideals to which we owe, among other developments, modern science and technology, mass communication, human rights, due process of law and the market economy (Weiming 1996). What may instead be required is not outright rejection of Enlightenment values, but a broadening of their scope and deepening of their moral sensitivity (Weiming 1996).

Borrowing an expression from Tu Weiming, we could perhaps think in terms of an anthropocosmic metaphysic rather than an anthropocentric one, bringing the sacred back into the centre of our lives, and our philosophic systems, without sacrificing either humanity or nature in the process. Tu Weiming suggests that it would be possible to 'go beyond the Enlightenment mentality, without either deconstructing or abandoning its commitment to rationality, liberty, equality, human rights, and distributive justice' (Weiming 1998, p.9). This could be achieved by some form of nondualism, or dipolarity, in which both the One and the Many co-exist and lend meaning to each other; and which also incorporates the spiritual or the eternal, that which is untouched by thought. Correspondingly, a belief in 'the salvific power of self-interest', could be replaced with a new Golden Rule: 'in order to establish myself, I have to help others to enlarge themselves' - which is Tu Weiming's version of do unto others what you would have them do unto you (Weiming 1998, p.5). Or, as he expressed it elsewhere: in order for me to flourish, my neighbour must also flourish. This Confucian/Vedantin Golden

331 Rule conforms to the logic of nondualism, in which the distinction between self and other exists only at superficial levels of the explicate order. It expresses the understanding that what I do to others I do to myself, because the quality of my actions, their moral energy, shapes the world in which I live and rebounds on me directly and indirectly.

Non-Western traditions including , Taoism, Hinduism, and Buddhism also 'provide sophisticated and practicable resources in worldviews, rituals, institutions, styles of education, and patterns of human-relatedness' (Weiming 1998, p.7). Larson questions the mining of other traditions for “conceptual resources,” likening it to eighteenth-century colonial exploitation. He argues that we want to ‘appropriate the raw materials so that we can use them for making what we want’, unheeding of the fact that these concepts are deeply embedded in their native cultures and probably resistant to successful transplantation (Larson 1989, p.269-270). He also regards the environmental crisis as something totally new, and wonders why we assume that pre-modern notions of the , Brahman, God and so forth, ‘can be disembedded, dusted off and somehow utilized in dealing with the environmental crisis’ (Larson 1989, p.273-4). As an alternative, he suggests that:

332 [T]he truly important task for the comparativist in the environmental debate is not to offer up non-Western, alternative “world views” for possible adoption, but, rather, precisely the opposite, namely, through comparative analysis to come to a more critical understanding of what it means to be human at a time when all of the old of our Western and non-Western traditions have largely collapsed (Larson 1989, p.277).

This offers a new slant on things, useful in itself, but I disagree that Brahman, God, the Tao and the like should not be resorted to because they, and the traditions in which they are embedded, are not relevant to the present crisis. Although the environmental crisis is indeed new, the religio-philosophies discussed in the present thesis offer pertinent solutions to problems of the human condition such as identification, attachment, desire, fear and so on, which may in fact be the ultimate cause of the environmental crisis. As Callicott and Ames point out, ‘the present environmental crisis appears to be less a unique, unprecedented historical event than the climactic paroxysm of a malaise as old as civilization itself, perhaps even as old as mankind’ (Callicott and Ames 1989, p.281). The underlying problems or conditions have not changed much in the intervening centuries. A number of certainties are still extant, such as change and suffering; and the potential for self-knowledge, transcendence and creative living. These ought to be explored anew, old assumptions questioned, but we need not try to re-invent the wheel when the history of metaphysics is teeming with insights into the present predicament.

Deep Ecology has responded to the environmental problematic, including the challenge of replacing anthropocentrism, with a tactic of deep questioning, not only of the causes of ecological devastation but also of our value systems. A number of Deep Ecology theorists have also suggested that unless we identify with non-human nature we will not act in its defence. Accordingly, it has focussed attention on various Self-realisation doctrines which purport to demonstrate that maturity in the human being can, in part, be measured by how wide or deeply into the fabric of life his or her identification goes. But as I have tried to show, Deep Ecology has at times misinterpreted some of these doctrines, especially the Hindu âtman doctrine, and not taken its universality far enough. Nor has Deep Ecology sufficiently engaged with the rich tradition of

333 nondualistic metaphysics, or adequately questioned important presuppositions of Cartesian dualism and scientific materialism in which ethics and philosophy is still carried out, despite “revolutions” in physics.

334 THE NECESSARY ELEMENTS OF NONDUALITY

In chapter 5 there are indications of the direction in which an enquiry into a nondualistic framework for ecophilosophy might proceed. Based on my reading of nondualistic systems, Eastern and Western, I maintain that such a framework must (1) regard matter as phenomenal of something more subtle than itself, namely its underlying cause; (2) it must implicate mind in matter, or better still point to the primacy of consciousness, (3) it should proceed on the basis that mind or consciousness will be central to its explanation of reality; and (4) it must strongly advocate a nondualistic mode of thought and action. At the same time, it need not devalue matter in any way, nor assume that matter has no meaning for consciousness, or that causation reaches only "downward" from the One to the Many.

If it is true that a more holistic or organismic metaphysic is needed to finally replace mechanism as an explanation of reality, it would be desirable if that metaphysic affirmed modes of thought and action that would have a healing effect on environment, self and society. Otherwise, a new metaphysic will not necessarily have the desired trickle-down effect all the way to action in defence of nature, or action that does not unduly interfere with natural processes. Thus, I am arguing here that nondual or unmediated perception, and the disciplines prerequisite to its attainment, are necessary corollaries of any nondualistic metaphysic and to a coherent, effective, environmental ethic - keeping in mind that the techniques and practices involved entail freedom from the ignorance and attachment which cause many of the problems with which the individual and society are currently plagued.

In a previous chapter, Merchant described the new order based on the mechanistic framework in the following terms:

[C]osmos, society and the human being [were] construed as ordered systems of mechanical parts subject to governance by law and to predictability through deductive reasoning. A new concept

335 of the self as a rational master of the passions housed in a machinelike body began to replace the concept of the self as an integral part of a close-knit harmony of organic parts united to the cosmos and society (Merchant 1989, p.214).

By contrast, my version of nondualism would treat cosmos, society and the individual as intelligent creative systems in which the interrelated, interpenetrating, mutually caused parts are expressions of their ultimate source: a vital, generative, order that is also characterised by creativity and intelligence. A new concept of the self as an integrated body-mind complex, always in process, and capable of tremendous sensitivity and openness to what lies beyond the known - replaces the idea of a machine-like body subject to control. This self is a mirror of the cosmos. The fundamental process is one of becoming an ever more perfect reflection of the whole. In all of this the nature of consciousness as vast creative intelligence is paramount, and freedom dominates the entire process from beginning to end. Freedom is the nature of God, freedom is the nature of the âtman, and freedom is the nature of the totality. For the human being, this freedom can be understood as freedom from the conditioned self, which freedom is the door to universality and unity. Living in a state of non-freedom or attachment is equally “creative” in some senses of the word, society and the individual remain interrelated, interpenetrating, mutually caused parts of a whole; only “the whole” in this case is a creation of thought which has set itself up in opposition to intelligence in the Bohm/Krishnamurti sense.

In order to flesh out this nondualistic metaphysic a number of philosophic concerns will be addressed in what follows: the question of God or the ultimate category; evolution, time and eternity; the nature of intelligence (which has already been discussed at some length); the importance of a process view; ethics, value and action in a nondualistic context; and the nature of freedom. Needless to say, perhaps, this does not exhaust all that might be reconsidered in the context of a nondualistic metaphysic, but I trust that it will lay some of the necessary foundations on which a more robust and far-reaching Deep Ecology might be rebuilt.

336

THE PLACE OF GOD OR THE ULTIMATE CATEGORY

In Leclerc's estimation, modern science and philosophy began with the Neoplatonic revival in the fifteenth-century, and the 'renewed endeavour to understand God and his relation to the world' (Leclerc 1972, p.84). We may as well start at the same place.

Writing on Cusanus, Leclerc remarks that based on the primacy of infinite being, it was:

337 possible to start with the infinite as the highest, and proceed from that to achieve an understanding of the finite … His doctrine … is that, we cannot attain to a sound and true understanding of the finite except in terms of the infinite, for the finite is not self-contained and self-subsistent but is utterly dependent upon God, the infinite. Thus, what usually is taken to be knowledge – that is, what is attained by concentrating on the finite – is not really knowledge at all; it is ignorance, learned ignorance. True knowledge is in the first instance and primarily knowledge of God, the infinite, and from this knowledge we can attain to a real knowledge of the world, the finite (Leclerc 1972, p.72).

This is very close to the position of Vedânta and of Platonism, which both declare ordinary knowledge of the finite conditioned and contingent, to be ignorance (avidyâ) or mere opinion; and which have privileged that which being known all else is known (namely, the infinite). I also suggest that we should begin with an understanding of the highest, the infinite and the eternal and on the basis of that build an understanding of the finite world. It is important to note, however, that when it comes to various interpretations of the ultimate reality, God, or the infinite, ‘mankind has differed profoundly’, as Whitehead asserts:

He has been named, respectively, Jehovah, Allah, Brahmâ, Father in Heaven, Order of Heaven, First Cause, Supreme Being, Chance. Each name corresponds to a system of thought derived from the experiences of those who have used it (Whitehead 1926/1985, p.222).

An implication I draw from this statement, and many others like it in the field of religion, is that whatever we say of the ultimate category or the Supreme, however we conceive God or the Absolute, It will always be something more and something different. Certainly, whatever I might say of God or the ultimate category, will not be It. But perhaps something useful can be said of our possible relationship with That, and Its relationship to the finite world of time and change, including ourselves. So instead of starting with the Infinite and proceeding from that to an understanding of the finite I suggest beginning with our relationship (or potential relationship) to the Infinite and deducing from that a way of living in the world of time and change. And based on my

338 reading of Plato, the Upanishads, the Gîtâ, Spinoza, Bruno and Bohm, I have concluded that it is possible and necessary for the finite (human) to be open to the Infinite, guided by It, renewed by It, and ordered by It; just as finite matter or nature generally, is ordered, renewed, and inspired by the Infinite, the generative order from which all ultimately derives. For the most part, matter or nature is unconscious of its relationship with the Infinite or the One, just as we are unaware of basic processes such as the circulation of blood and regulation of our heart-beat. It is perhaps the peculiar potential of the human being, possessed of the critical faculty (manas), I-am-ness (ahamkâra) and intellectus (buddhi), to become aware of the Infinite, the source of all.

Whitehead argued that we are in essential relation with God, or in his words: 'We conceive actuality as in essential relation to an unfathomable possibility' (Whitehead 1926/1985, p.216). The metaphysic I wish to advance also maintains that we are in essential relationship with God, whether we are aware of it or not: and that overcoming our lack of awareness is a key element in the dynamic of that relationship, which is fundamentally processual: the process in question being the negation or transcendence of duality (separation) and the subsequent realisation of fundamental unity. As Vedânta and Yoga have long held, the lack of awareness of our essential relationship with God (which is a relationship of oneness) is the primordial ignorance (avidyâ) that is the cause of all the other psychological afflictions responsible for most if not all of human suffering, namely, the attractions and repulsions towards objects, I-am-ness, and clinging to life, which I have repeated in this thesis to the point of tedium. Whitehead maintained that 'Every actual occasion exhibits itself as a process; it is a becomingness' (Whitehead 1926/1985, p.216). I think it can be argued, along both Whiteheadian and Upanishadic lines, that this process is a "becomingness" of infinite possibility, an actual occasion of God or Creativity in the making, with its necessary and implied relation to 'unfathomable possibility'.

Rescher argues that in process metaphysics:

339 [The real] exhibits in all of its aspects an active, ever-fluctuating intermediation between various polar opposites (being / nonbeing, stability / change, activity / passivity etc.). … No destructive conflict, but a productive advance, is marked in such tensions. For process, in its role as an active motor of change from A to B, thereby also links and unites A and B into a connected and integrated whole (William H. Sheldon cited in Rescher 1996, p.23).

In this creative opposition, ‘opposites do not cancel each other out but create a tension or destabilization that gives rise to process of development’ (Rescher 1996, p.24). Likewise, time and eternity, the finite and the infinite, need not cancel each other out, or deny the existence of the other, but rather, contribute something vital to each. The individual existence stretches between the polar opposites of being and nonbeing, the finite and the universal; and is, in fact, a product of both. For Whitehead, each individual is infinitely complex: ‘Each represents a perspective on the world that reaches out to touch and, as it were, encompass the rest … there is a dialectical tension between individual and world (Rescher 1996, p.21). I suggest that there is a creative dialectical tension between individuality and universality, between the empirical self (jîva) and the universal Self (âtman), a ‘productive advance’ of Self-realisation in which the individual identity built up, literally over ages, is seen to be fundamentally limited, conditioned and contingent. As Bohm has argued for the particle, the individual is only semi-autonomous, being an inseparable part of the totality of which it is a temporary expression. Becoming aware of that is a productive advance for the human being.

EVOLUTION AND TIME VERSUS ETERNITY

A central complaint Griffin has about Huston Smith's version of perennial philosophy is the emphasis it places on downward causation and the idea that 'everything in our universe is a consequence of something superior' (Griffin and Smith 1989, p.21). This is a common presupposition of classical . According to Griffin, Smith holds ‘that

340 the world’s existence is not necessary for God in any sense – not necessary for God to exist, and not needed to contribute value to God’ (Griffin and Smith 1989, p.107). If the divine reality is regarded as perfect and complete in itself; then what could the world and its temporal processes possibly add to the deity present from the beginning? Griffin asks, if the divine is perfect and eternal, then why indeed should the world exist? He is not satisfied with Smith’s answer, ‘that every level of being must exist, by the principle of plenitude’, but he need not have searched far to find an answer from process metaphysics that I am sure he is aware of and that ought to satisfy. That answer lies in the doctrine of dipolarity developed by Hartshorne and Reese in their treatment of panentheism in Philosophers Speak of God (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963). They provide a thoroughly satisfying answer as to why the universe exists if God, or the totality, is already perfect and complete in itself.

Dipolarity affirms the coexistence of unity and plurality, the One and the Many, time and eternity. It neither excludes nor privileges any one aspect of reality, but it does advocate a necessary relationship between the temporal and the eternal, the One and the Many. The One is not devoid of or apart from the Many, and likewise, matter/nature is not devoid of or apart from the One. The co-authors argue that:

There seems a good deal of support in experience, logic, and intellectual history for what Morris Cohen called the “Law of Polarity.” [which they trace back to Plato and Heraclitus via Hegel]. According to this law, ultimate contraries are correlatives, mutually interdependent, so that nothing real can be described by the wholly one-sided assertion of simplicity, being, actuality and the like, each in a “pure” form, devoid and independent of complexity, becoming, potentiality, and related contraries (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.2).

In classical theism, any element of change in the eternal God would seem to deny His existence. This sentiment is the reverse of the pre-eminent doctrine of modern philosophy, that change and becoming are more important (and more fundamental) than

341 changeless being. Dipolarity allows for change and development in some aspects of God and the eternal. Change need not necessarily imply previous defect, as it did to Plato (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.9). Change may, instead, refer to unfoldment or emanation. As soon as there is movement there is change. Without movement there is no manifestation, no creation and no existence. Should existence imply that God is imperfect? Certainly not. Might the existence (stepping forth) of the world add something to that from which it emanates? There is no indisputable reason why not. Nor need the existence of change in the world in which God is immanent imply that God is not also totally independent and free (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.12). God may have both an eternal and a temporal aspect (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.15). And so might the world for that matter. In fact world and God may ultimately be one. “World” may be God’s temporal aspect, and “God” may be the world’s eternal aspect.

Hartshorne and Reese conclude that only panentheism expresses the nature of God (and I would add, world) without lapsing into absurdity. Thus, they posit the following dipolar panentheistic conception of God. In some aspects of the divine nature, God is eternal and devoid of change, ‘whether as birth, death, increase, or decrease’. In other aspects God is temporal and capable of change, ‘in the form of increase of some kind’. God is both self-aware and aware of the universe; and finally, God is world-inclusive, ‘having all things as constituents’ (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.16). In short they conceive of God or the Supreme as, ‘Eternal-Temporal Consciousness, Knowing and including the World’. Anything else, they feel, yields a mutilated and truncated view of divine reality (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.18). Eternity, abstracted from time, becoming, consciousness, or the actual universe, is deficient. I would agree, and add that the actual universe and the human being abstracted from eternity are deficient, and also perverse.

In characterising the deity, Hartshorne and Reese maintain that it is necessary to affirm both ultimate contraries: time and change, being and becoming. They also suggest that the timelessness of the eternal may be qualified by the fact that eternity is an aspect of

342 the world of change, and the world’s temporality may be qualified by its essential relation with the eternal of which it is a reflection. Further, just as each contrary applies to an aspect of the deity, each contrary applies to the world (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.4-6). The world has an eternal aspect. The classic “monopolar” view, which they reject, worships being and devalues becoming. Modern evolutionary cosmology is probably equally monopolar, worshipping becoming at the expense of being. According to Hartshorne and Reese, the remedy of this ‘disease’ is not to assert the opposite pole: ‘The remedy is to recognize that both poles [becoming and being] … apply in one way to God and in another to other individuals’ (Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.24). In God’s supreme being there is a factor of becoming and in the world’s becoming there is an element of being. The world, after all, is a contracted infinite, a microcosm. Finally, dipolarity allows world and divinity to be conceived as mutually interdependent contraries.

So there is evidence in experience, logic and metaphysics for a truly inclusive panentheism. I have tried to show evidence for this view in the âtman doctrine of the Upanishads, in the liberation doctrines of the Bhagavad Gîtâ and the Yoga Sûtras, and in the work of Krishnamurti and Bohm. In the past few centuries however, the eternal, the changeless, and the divine have been marginalised by mainstream philosophy, if not denied outright. As Bohm and Peat argue:

[The] transformation from the old eternal order has brought in its wake a movement away from the absolute and toward the idea that things are inherently relative and dependent on conditions and contexts … this was the deeper meaning of giving pride of place to time, rather than eternity … The essential meaning of time is that everything is mutable and transient … the temporal order is essentially one of change and transience … All trace of the eternal order, with its natural cycles and harmonies, have now been swept away (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.109-110).

343 Arthur Lovejoy seems to have thoroughly internalised the move away from the old order of which Bohm and Peat speak above. He affirms the place of evolution and change and denies any importance to the eternal, against which he has raised a number of objections. Lovejoy would rather see the world of time elevated above the eternal, if only because time is essential to evolution and therefore cannot be regarded as either illusory or secondary. He regards the notion of the eternal as infantile, a characteristic of ‘adolescent metaphysics’ which has produced an ‘unwholesome’ other-worldliness as in the mâyâ doctrine:

[The] final refuge of the eternalist is and must be … sheer , the doctrine of Mâyâ, - a doctrine which I take to be but vanity and a striving after wind, a thing to which no sober occidental mind is likely to give heed (Lovejoy 1909, p496-.501).

Lovejoy concludes by suggesting that metaphysicians must ‘abandon their eternals and immutables, and set themselves whole-heartedly to understand the world temporally and evolutionally’ (Lovejoy 1909, p496-.501).

Though I disagree with it, Lovejoy’s evolutionary argument against eternity raises important points. What role does constancy or eternity have in a world in which qualitative evolution is supposed to take place (Lovejoy 1909, p.489)? Does the existence of the eternal obviate the possibility of change and evolution? Based on the doctrine of panentheism I would say not. Lovejoy pits ‘quantitative constancy’ against ‘qualitative evolution’, which is disingenuous, because most Platonists, and others writing of the eternal, would rather describe it as a qualitative constancy underlying the world of quantity and change. Thus, change, evolution, and chance might play out against a backdrop of eternal and inevitable quality, so that the ultimate end is in some ways determined (if only that existence or becoming Is) and in other ways free, because existence may take myriad shapes.

Lovejoy also argues that the idea of the Absolute has no practical application, ‘to the purposes and plans of action of human beings’. As already indicated, my view is that

344 the consensus of Plato, Bruno, Bohm, Krishnamurti and the Upanishads is that the Absolute does have practical application, acting as something like the North Star according to which we might orient our lives. In Bohm’s notion of the generative order time is secondary and has always to be related to the generative order in a fundamental way. (The generative order, the totality, and the Absolute are near-synonymous terms). He explains the point with reference to the image of a stream:

The stream can be studied by following an object that floats along it, in a time process. However, it is also possible to consider the entire stream all at once, to reveal the overall generative order that goes downstream from the source or origin (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.197).

Bohm argues that the process of evolution, which is in time, is ‘constantly generated within this flow from a "source" or "origin" that is infinitely far into the implicate and generative orders’. This source or origin is timeless, in that it ‘does not involve time in an essential way’. Following on from this he proposes that:

[T]he timeless order and the time order enter into a fundamental relationship. However, because this relationship is now seen through the generative order, the time order appears very different from what it is in the traditional approach. It is not primarily a transformation within a given level of organization and explication. Rather it is, in the first place, a transformation of the entire "stream" of the implicate and generative orders that takes place from one moment to the next (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.198).

Probably in response to Griffin’s criticism, Bohm stresses that he is not arguing that the order of time is completely derived from the timeless order, or that the order of time has no impact on the timeless. As he put it, the flow in the generative stream is not only downward, or moving from the implicate to the explicate. He posits a two-way flow in which there is an inherent dynamism. In his theory, ‘reduction is not actually possible. The timeless order and the temporal order therefore both make essential contributions to the overall order' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.198). Clearly, then, the timeless is of significance to the order of time and to the order of thought.

345

At the end of his critique of Deep Ecology and other schools of radical environmentalism, Zimmerman finally agrees with what he sees as the perennial philosophy approach to the development of consciousness towards nonduality. In Zimmerman’s estimation, the perennial philosophy, (accessed principally through the works of Ken Wilber), maintains that the suffering inherent in conditioned existence, or in ‘finitude’, as he put it, can only be overcome ‘by discovering one’s participation in the eternal’; but that it would be a mistake to assume that our egos and their possessions and achievements are immortal. What is immortal is the universal principle in us, the âtman (Zimmerman 1994, p.375). Wilber argues that our realisation of the âtman, and the development of nondual perception, is part of the evolution of human consciousness toward a more integrated awareness, ‘beyond the constricted dualistic, mode of “mental-egoic” consciousness’. Furthermore, Wilber maintains that: ‘Nondual awareness … reveals that one already participates in an eternal domain that simultaneously embraces and transcends spatiotemporal phenomena’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.14). In Zimmerman’s view (contrary to Katz and other constructivists), nondual perception does not create that reality, but merely reveals it.

The philosophical embrace of eternity or unity does not necessarily lead to totalitarianism and oppression, as Popper suggested in his critique of Plato (Popper 1945/1952). Nor does it necessarily deny the importance of the finite world of bodies and of time. The eternal transcends and includes the world; and so, ‘dwelling in eternity means celebrating its presence in the here and now’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.376). According to Zimmerman:

[Wilber] maintains that modern revolutions led to oppression not because they sought a higher unity, but rather because they sought it without coming to terms with humanity’s mortality, finitude, and radical dependence on what transcends the human (Zimmerman 1994, p.55).

346 It might be recalled at this point that Deep Ecology has not focussed on our radical dependence on what transcends the human either.

Zimmerman points out that many environmentalists share Deep Ecology’s insight that, along with sociopolitical change, some type of inner change or personal transformation is needed. “Personal transformation” can be interpreted purely along the lines of lifestyle change such as might be subsumed under the general rubric: “simple in means rich in ends”. But the Self-realisation doctrine of Deep Ecology can be interpreted along Wilber’s “progressive” lines to take into account qualitative change in the way we think, not just in what we think of ourselves and the world. Zimmerman tends to interpret the Deep Ecology Self-realisation doctrine along such psycho-spiritual lines, aware of the fact that postmodern ideology is hugely sceptical of anything reminiscent of ‘metaphysical foundationalism’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.8-29). He situates Deep Ecology in the counterculture, many members of which ‘believe that humankind is evolving to a “higher” consciousness that will mitigate not only personal problems, but social and ecological problems as well’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.12). Thus, Devall and Sessions are depicted as calling for ‘a spiritual transformation that will give rise to an “ecological sensibility”’ (Zimmerman 1994, p.32).

The ecological crisis can be seen as a crisis of character, culture, and spiritual development. Indeed, in Zimmerman’s view, only a spiritual dimension to the notion of personal transformation will ultimately ensure a truly ecological sensibility along the lines Naess envisaged. He agrees with Wilber that:

[O]nly by positing that consciousness can develop do deep ecologists have any reason to expect that the modern ego will eventually “mature,” in the sense of ceasing to dissociate itself from nature (Zimmerman 1994, p.55).

ORDER AND THE NATURE OF INTELLIGENCE

347 If the individual is a temporary, partial and semi-autonomous expression of the totality, then the question arises where do intelligence and order come from - the contingent, empirical self, or the totality, variously described as pure consciousness, Brahman, the Absolute, the Supreme Being or God? To answer this question I draw further on Bohm’s treatment of the generative order.

Beyond any implications for quantum theory and for our understanding of the physical world, Bohm and Peat sought to explore the meaning of the generative order for consciousness, particularly as it contributes to our understanding of ‘creativity and to discover what is blocking it', not only in science but also in society and the individual life (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.192). The importance of this approach is indicated by their assumption that if things continue as they are, 'it would take a very optimistic person indeed to say that the human race will survive for as much as a thousand years, which is after all a rather short period in human history' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.207). Thus, they argue that what is needed is not just a new approach to science, 'but a new approach to society, and even more, a new kind of consciousness' (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.207).

In the exploration of what blocks creativity, the nature of thought features prominently not only in Bohm’s work but also that of Krishnamurti, Yoga, Buddhism, Vedânta and doctrines of direct intuitive perception generally. A one word answer to what blocks creativity would be “thought”. Bohm and Krishnamurti argue that thought is a material, mechanical, measurable, electrochemical process which takes place in the brain, and is largely a reaction to the past; whereas intelligence is not the product of thought or of time, and it is neither mechanical nor measurable. Krishnamurti writes:

Thinking is the movement of memory, which is experience, knowledge, stored in the brain … (Krishnamurti and Bohm 1985, p.66-7).

Thought, like memory, is of course necessary for daily living. Thought is the response to memory, memory which has been accumulated through experience. And from this background of

348 memory we react and this reaction is thinking (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.54).

As every challenge is met in terms of the past - a challenge being always new - our meeting of the challenge will always be totally inadequate, hence contradiction, conflict and all the misery and sorrow we are heir to. Our little brain is in conflict whatever it does. Whether it aspires, imitates, conforms, suppresses, sublimates, takes drugs to expand itself - whatever it does - it is in a state of conflict and will produce conflict (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.140).

Krishnamurti argues that although necessary in practical affairs, thought plays an insidious role in our psychological lives and relationships. It is essentially dull, reactive, past-bound, and of limited value in relationship. For the sake of sanity, and for the sake of transformation, it is necessary to understand the two kinds of thought; that which must be exercised with care in our daily life, and that which has no significance or use at all (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.136).

Remembering what house you live in and who your partner and children are is of practical value. An example of a “memory” with questionable value is the memory of disappointment, of having one’s feelings hurt, of not being able to reach understanding with another and so forth. Such recollections appear to be of little practical use and act as a barrier to meeting others freshly from day to day, with all the potential for renewal, creativity and transformation that such freshness holds. That knowledge which causes only mischief and dulls sensitivity is what Krishnamurti termed “psychological” knowledge, the memory of hurts, clinging to the past, and all thoughts which act as a barrier to meeting another human as if for the first time. He maintains that if we ‘try to understand this whole complex structure of what is thinking, what is memory, how thought originates, how thought conditions all our actions’ (Krishnamurti 1969/2004, p.136), we may discover a new approach to reality that is not “of thought”, and perhaps encounter something that thought has not touched. That something would be the

349 intelligence of the generative order, the ultimate source of order described as pure consciousness in Hindu thought. Krishnamurti asks Bohm:

If thought has no relationship with intelligence, then is the cessation of thought [citta-vritti-nirodha] the awakening of intelligence? Or is it that intelligence … exists always?

Hindus have the theory that intelligence, or Brahman exists always and is covered over by illusion, by matter, by stupidity, by all kinds of mischievous things created by thought. I don't know if you would go as far as that … They say peel all this off, that thing is there. So their assumption is that it existed always (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.510-11).

Bohm replies that there is a difficulty in the word "always" because it implies time which is 'the order of thought' (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.511-2). They did not go into the issue of “always” here, but agreed that time should not be brought into the question of awakening. Instead, they asked whether thought, which is a movement in time, can ever meet intelligence; can thought, which is always in disharmony, have a relationship with intelligence which is harmony? (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.517-9). And finally agree that the relationship between intelligence and the brain (or thought) is that the brain can be an instrument of intelligence; thought can be a “pointer” to intelligence, whereas in itself thought is “barren”. It has no value without intelligence (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.520). However, Bohm does seem to agree with Vedantists and the like that if you “peel off” all the material processes, including thought, what remains is intelligence or pure consciousness. He maintains that some kind of protointelligence is inherent in the generative order, and that it actively generates order. At the same time, some kind of “free play” is also at work, so that the intelligence of the generative order is not entirely deterministic (Bohm and Peat 1987, p.202).

The ultimate source of order is not in thought, but arises from the intelligence that is the pure consciousness of Sânkhya and the Brahman of Vedânta. In practical terms, this doctrine advocates the importance of understanding thought as a process and

350 discovering for oneself the nature of intelligence and the source of order. Krishnamurti believes that although thought, matter, and intelligence ultimately have a common source, thought has taken over, and having ‘conquered the world’, thought has left little room for intelligence. He believed that ‘intelligence has very little place here. When one thing dominates, the other must be subservient' (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.521). Linear thought has certainly taken over the philosophic and scientific imagination since the seventeenth century, marginalising other modes of knowing in the process.

The metaphysic of qualified nondualism advanced in this thesis advocates the importance of asking the kinds of questions Krishnamurti and Bohm posed, such as, whether it is possible to change the way we live so that intelligence can function in our lives, enabling us to live in harmony with each other, with nature, and with ourselves? Can we live in such a way that ‘the pointer, the direction is guided by intelligence?’ rather than thought (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.525). As thought is largely a product of the past, and heavily conditioned by ignorance, egoity, desire and fear, it should be regarded as an unreliable guide, rather than exalted as the apex of human development.

Bohm remarked to Krishnamurti:

You could say that thought got out of hand and ceased to allow itself to be orderly, ordered in general by intelligence, or at least to stay in harmony with intelligence, and began to move on its own accord (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.522).

Intelligence, on the other hand, can see into the nature of thought, and see ‘the falseness of what is going on. When thought is free of this falseness it is different. Then it begins to be a parallel to intelligence … That is, it begins to carry out the implications of intelligence' (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.523). Krishnamurti remarks that this, perhaps, is the rightful place of thought (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.523). Intelligence cannot force thought to do anything, but when thought sees

351 its own limitations, and sees that thought rather than “reality” or “truth” has created our perception of the world, then intelligence is able to act and guide the operations of thought. Thought has created nationalism and sectarian religion, concealing its own handiwork along the way, leaving us with the impression that religions and races are objective facts on which to float or sink as circumstances dictate.

Distinguishing between thought and intelligence, Bohm and Krishnamurti begin by defining intelligence as mental alertness, the capacity to read between the lines, particularly to read thought and to understand it. They then move on to consider the deeper levels of intelligence, where intelligence may be regarded as synonymous with God (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.509/526). Krishnamurti suggests: ‘Religious people, instead of using the word intelligence, have used the word God'. Bohm replies: 'God is perhaps a metaphor for intelligence … God means that which is immeasurable, beyond thought' (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.525-6). Krishnamurti agrees and then reminds Bohm and the reader that our image of God and our ideas of God have been created by thought to satisfy its desires and assuage its fears:

… the desire for this intelligence, through time, has created this image of God. And through the image of God, Jesus, , or whatever it is, by having faith in that - which is still the movement of thought - one hopes that there will be harmony in one's life (Dialogue with Bohm in Krishnamurti 1986, p.526).

This is not to deny the existence of an intelligence, or God, beyond thought, desire and fear; only to point out that the word, the image, and the idea are not God. It further suggests that until the entire process of thought is understood there is little likelihood of being inspired, guided, or touched, by anything else.

The ultimate source of order, for Bohm and Krishnamurti then, appears to be the intelligence beyond thought which is synonymous with God, pure consciousness, Brahman, the totality, and the Absolute. Secondary levels of order may be the result of

352 an interplay between this infinite, universal intelligence and thought, which is finite and conditioned. What we generally think of as disorder (which is still a type of order in Bergson’s understanding) is perhaps the result of finite, conditioned thought taking over and leaving little room for intelligence to come in. It is important to keep in mind that this intelligence, not being the product of thought, can be contacted by anyone in a state of freedom. Bohm felt that attention and dialogue would help to clear away the debris of assumptions, desires and fears covering over the intelligence implicit in consciousness or the generative order.

If the timeless and the eternal are the source of order, the question arises as to the relation of space and time to the solution that lies beyond. That is to say, what is the relation of the observable, phenomenal world to the noumenal intelligible world? Is it a relationship of inferior to superior, of the less valuable to the more valuable, of darkness to light, and so forth? Or is some sort of equality possible in the equation?

The authors identified in figure 2 of chapter1 follow Plato in regarding the world of observation as “phenomenal” of something more ultimate than itself (Urban 1929, p.234). Wittgenstein succinctly expresses this point when he writes: ‘The solution of the riddle of life in space and time lies outside space and time’ (Wittgenstein 1921/2001, p.87). Though he did not treat it as such, this is a guiding tenet of Platonism and of Vedânta, evident also in a remark by Gerald Heard, writing about Vedânta: ‘no sanction can be found for things of time unless the fulcrum of that sanction is placed outside time, in the timeless, the eternal’ (Heard 1948/1975, p.271). Space/time is the field of relativity, the intelligible world is the aspect of eternity, a non-spatial, non-temporal field that intersects with space and time but also transcends it. Smith, Schuon, Huxley and company deny ultimate reality and ultimate value to the phenomenal world; but being phenomenal of the intelligible world, matter and the field of space and time are regarded as a reflection of that world, a mirror of the eternal unfolding its potential on the material plane. Consequently, the phenomenal or observable world is not regarded as inferior, or as separate from the noumenal order. The phenomenal and the noumenal,

353 matter and spirit, are two sides of the one coin, products of one unnameable, indefinable source. As it says in the Emerald Tablet: ‘That which is below is like that which is above and that which is above is like that which is below / to do the miracles of one only thing’ (Isaac Newton translation circa 1690 reproduced in Dobbs 1988). The noumenal and the phenomenal, the implicate and the explicate, each ‘do the miracles of’ (or unfold the qualities of) the One that has generated them both. Thus, in this system of qualified nondualism (nondualism qualified by the co-eternity of difference) the phenomenal need not be devalued, nor the noumenal marginalised.

SPACE AND CONSCIOUSNESS

Leading on from Lovejoy’s question as to the practical application of the Absolute and the eternal, I would next like to highlight a connection between consciousness and emptiness, or consciousness and space.

It was a presupposition of Greek thought that the physical is necessarily extended and necessarily full. The Pythagoreans introduced the idea of the void, the opposite of the full, as the source or principle of the Many (Leclerc 1972, p.47-8). To be a discrete entity, to exist (which means to have stepped out or differentiated from the whole), is to have a limit, to be bounded. An existent, however, cannot be separated off or distinguished from other things except by a no-thing. Only emptiness can provide the necessary separation between two “fulls”. Further, this emptiness must be unlimited, and ‘in every respect the contrary of the physical’ (Leclerc 1972, p.48). In this view, the infinite may be regarded as the source of the finite, emptiness the source of fullness. Similarly, I understand pure contentless consciousness to be the limitless source of thought and movement, both of which are limited and conditioned. Attention is the door to consciousness and awareness (synonymous terms in Vedânta). This attention has to be distinguished from concentration and is, in itself, contentless. As already shown, in the work of Krishnamurti and Bohm, the essential dynamic between thought and

354 intelligence, or thought and attention is that when intelligence via attention provides the content of thought, then intelligence can be said to guide thought, which is otherwise barren. In the present version of qualified nondualism, intelligence is primary and thought is secondary. Intelligence is analogous to space or contentless consciousness in which the world of thoughts and lives arises and subsides.

Aristotle rejected the idea that the infinite is the source from which everything derives, and conceived the infinite as a potential: not an actuality at all. (Leclerc 1972, p.44). He reasoned that if ‘it is impossible for there to be an actual infinite’, then perhaps there is a ‘potential infinite’ (Leclerc 1972, p.54). The meaning of potential in this case is explained with reference to the analogy of a statue. We know that a statue can exist potentially in a slab of marble because when the sculptor removes everything that is not the statue, as he or she sees it, the statue will actually exist. But this cannot be the case with the infinite as potential: ‘the infinite as possible cannot mean that it is possible for there to be an actual infinite’ (Leclerc 1972, p.54). That the infinite is always a potential appears to have important implications for our lives, which in many cases we carry on quite removed from the fact of an ever-present infinite potential: living as if only the actual is real.

Henry More believed Aristotle had been right to maintain that 'there could be no extents of mere nothingness, that extendedness necessarily implies something extended’. However, More argued for a ‘universal spirit of nature which extends and fills the space in between bodies' (Leclerc 1972, p.202). The spirit of nature:

does not have the power of thought - intellect pertains to the individual souls … but it is alive … ordering matter according to certain general laws, constituting the manifestation of God's wisdom (Leclerc 1972, p.201).

Though without the cognitive faculties and I-making principle of the intellect, the “spirit of nature” is intelligent, ordering matter according to general “laws,” not in all detail, but in the general direction of order, harmony, the Good, and so forth. Leclerc

355 points out that when we examine all the characteristics required by More’s locus internus, the ultimate and infinite place: ‘it becomes clear that these are precisely the characteristics which thinkers had found it necessary to ascribe to the Divine' (Leclerc 1972, p.205). Quoting More:

When we shall have enumerated those names and titles appropriate to it, this infinite, immobile, extended [entity] will appear to be not only something real … but even something Divine (which so certainly is found in nature); this will give us further assurance that it cannot be nothing since that to which so many and such magnificent attributes pertain cannot be nothing. Of this kind are the following, which metaphysicians attribute particularly to the First Being, such as: One, Simple, Immobile, Eternal, Complete, Independent, Existing in itself, Subsisting by itself, Incorruptible, Necessary, Immense, Uncreated, Uncircumscribed, Incomprehensible, Omnipresent, Incorporeal, All-penetrating, All- embracing, Being by its essence, Actual Being, Pure Act (Opera Omnia cited in Leclerc 1972, p.205).

Leclerc concludes that More’s spiritus naturae is the God explicans posited by Cusanus and adopted by Bruno: ‘that is, it is God existing everywhere, in an actual manifestation of himself’ (Leclerc 1972, p.205). The principal of activity in matter is God, which may or may not be conceived as a property of matter. Almost all thinkers, including Newton, have had recourse to God as the principle, and the source, of motion in matter (Leclerc 1972, p.232). Newton, for example, regarded God as the principle of motion; arguing, however, that the world is not to be seen as the body of God, but as subordinate (cited in Leclerc 1972, p.215-6). In the General Scholium of the Principia, Newton stated his view that God is not the soul of the world but Lord over all:

… all these are under the same one dominion. This Being rules all things not as the soul of the world (for he has no body) … He is Eternal and infinite … He is omnipresent not only virtually but substantially … In him are all things contained and moved, yet God and matter do not interfere. God suffers nothing from the of bodies, and these suffer no resistance from the omnipresence of God (Newton 1962, p.359-60).

356

357 God is a relative name and refers to his servants. For we say my God … God of his servants … my supreme Lord … But we do not say my Perfect Being … the Perfect Being of servants … A Being eternal, infinite, all-wise and most perfect without dominion is not God but only Nature … (Newton 1962, p.363).

Newton distinguished between God and space, but I am suggesting that regarding space or consciousness as the divine source of all is not without precedent, with consciousness understood in the Sânkhyan sense as what remains after all physical and mental categories have been negated. For the word “divine” we may substitute complete, independent, self-existent, uncreated, omnipresent, eternal, all-embracing or any of the other appellations given by More above. Pure contentless consciousness is thus the all- embracing, independent, eternal source of things, lives and minds. In the General Scholium, having first pointed out that God is substantially omnipresent, Newton argued that we cannot know ‘the substances of things … We gather only their properties from the phenomena, and from the properties [we infer] what the substances may be’ (Newton 1962, p.360). It seems highly plausible that, in the final analysis, God will be found to be the substance of things (if God is indeed substantially omnipresent) though that seems not to be Newton’s understanding of substance.

When Hobbes described space as 'a phantasm of the existent' (Leibniz cited in Leclerc 1972, p.250), he seems to have put greater weight on the existent than the potential. But I am suggesting that we give greater weight to the potential, to space, or to contentless consciousness, than to the known, that which is already manifested, especially when it comes to the distinction between consciousness and its content in the form of thought. From my point of view, what is important about the Pythagorean idea of the void, More’s spiritus naturae, Buddhist emptiness (sûnyatâ), Sânkhyan consciousness and the like, is that they bid us look away from the already full, the content, the known and thought as the source of order and intelligence. This is consistent with a process view of the God/world relationship. It is also compatible with the notion of , and so it might be appropriate at this point to put in a bid for reclaiming intelligent

358 design from the creationists, or, properly speaking, fundamentalists - for not all those who believe in a creator God are “creationists,” and not all creationists are fundamentalists; just as not all those who believe in science subscribe to . As the principle of dipolarity suggests, the notion of a creator God is theoretically compatible with the operation of chance or accident in the finite universe.

Surprisingly, the Vatican’s chief astronomer, George Coyne, finds no difficulty in formulating a worldview that embraces both evolutionary science and the notion of God’s purpose and design. In a recent article in The Tablet, Coyne counters Cardinal Schönborn’s more predictable claim that Darwinian evolution is incompatible with a belief in a creator God. Coyne argues that ‘science reflects God’s infinite purpose’ (Coyne 2005). Cardinal Ratzinger appeared to hold a similar view. As President of the International Theological Commission, a year before he was named Pope Benedict, he issued a statement affirming that there is ‘no incompatibility between God’s providential plan for creation and the results of a truly contingent evolutionary process in nature’. Coyne also reports that, in 1996, John Paul II declared to the Pontifical Academy of Sciences that evolution can no longer be regarded as a mere hypothesis.

Coyne argues that there are three processes at work in the cosmos as known by science: ‘chance, necessity and the fertility of the universe’. The meaning of chance and necessity, he explains, should be seen in the context of the latter. In other words, the fertility (or creativity) of the universe may have been “given” by God; what happens with that fertility is partly the result of chance and accident. I would add that the fertility of the universe should not be conflated with the outcomes of that fertility, such as the hydrogen and carbon necessary for the creation of life as science perceives it. Fertility, or preferably, creativity in Whitehead’s sense, is more fundamental than the building blocks or tool kit of life. Coyne’s view as summarised below is compatible with that of Birch and Cobb in The Liberation of Life (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981). As it so neatly subverts what we might expect to hear from a Vatican spokesperson, and puts an intelligent case for intelligent design, it is worth quoting in some detail:

359

Chance processes and necessary processes are continuously interacting in a universe that is 13.7 x 1 billion years old and contains about 1022 stars. Those stars as they “live” and “die” release to the universe the chemical abundance of the elements necessary for life. In their thermonuclear furnaces stars convert the lighter elements into the heavier elements. There is no other way, for instance, to have the abundance of carbon necessary to make a toenail than through the thermonuclear processes in stars. We are all literally born of stardust …

… by the interaction of chance and necessity, many hydrogen molecules are formed and eventually many of them combine with oxygen to make water, and so on, until we have very complex molecules and eventually the most complicated organism that science knows: the human brain. While science cannot claim to know all of the links in this evolutionary chain, nor especially the passage to living organisms, there is very strong evidence for a large degree of continuity in the whole process … Thermodynamics works in the same way in the non-living and living world. Information storage and transmittal is very similar in non-living and living systems … [T]he search for life’s origins may be in vain. There may be no clear origin, no clear threshold as seen by science, between the non-living and the living …

… It is unfortunate that has come to mean some fundamentalistic, literal, scientific interpretation of Genesis. Judaeo- Christian faith is radically creationist, but in a totally different sense. It is rooted in a belief that everything depends upon God, or better, all is a gift from God. The universe is not God and it cannot exist independently of God. Neither nor naturalism is true. But, if we confront what we know of our origins scientifically with religious faith in God the Creator – if, that is, we take the results of modern science seriously – it is difficult to believe that God is omnipotent and omniscient in the sense of many of the scholastic philosophers …

God lets the world be what it will be in its continuous evolution. He is not continually intervening, but rather allows, participates, loves. Is such thinking adequate to preserve the special character attributed by religious thought to the emergence not only of life but also of spirit, while avoiding a crude creationism? Only a protracted dialogue will tell. But we should not close off the dialogue and darken the already murky waters by fearing that God will be abandoned if we embrace the best of modern science (Coyne 2005).

360

Though Coyne opposes pantheism and naturalism, his view of the creation fits in with process metaphysics, panentheism and the qualified nondualism I advocate. In Rescher’s treatment of process metaphysics, for instance: 'The basic idea of process involves the unfolding of a characterizing program through determinate stages’, but there is room for looseness, and variation (Rescher 1996, p.41), or for both chance and purpose (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981). As I hope to show below, process metaphysics is a dipolar or inclusive metaphysic in which freedom and maximum creativity are compatible with the idea that everything is dependent on God; because God is synonymous with, and the highest expression of, creativity and freedom. God being absolute freedom, our ultimate dependence on God is no denial of freedom.

361 PROCESS

Sometimes regarded as the founding father of process philosophy in the West, Heraclitus is often quoted as having said that you cannot step into the same river twice, and that all things happen by strife and necessity (Rescher 1996, p.9). In Geldard’s version of the essential fragments:

It is necessary to know that conflict is universal and that strife is right, and that all things happen through strife and necessity.

Strife is the father of All That Is and king of All That Is …

… all things are in process and nothing stays still, … and we cannot step twice into the same river (Geldard 2000, p.158).

Strife and necessity (the opposite of freedom) are, in this view, the father of all that is. The category of “all that is” does not necessarily include all that is not manifest, all that has not stepped out of the background consciousness. This allows for freedom and some sort of changelessness to also be part of life. Heraclitus here is commenting only on that which exists in the finite world, the world of things and thoughts.

Generally, process philosophers regard ‘time, change, and creativity as representing salient metaphysical factors’ (Rescher 1996, p.20), without denying the importance of the timeless and the (relatively) unchanging. As Rescher remarks: ‘Process philosophy issues an invitation to accept the world’s arrangements in their full complexity’ (Rescher 1996, p.32). This ought to include the Absolute and the eternal, along with the relative and the temporal. Affirming that all things are in process and that strife (or movement) rules all that is, does not deny the existence of a “no-thing” the Subject or the Absolute, the chief characteristic of which is not movement but stillness, not change, but timelessness, (even though all movement along with space and time arise within it).

362 Plato's view of the perceptible world is also processual, but he does not deny the changeless. In Rescher’s view, Plato adopted Heraclitus's account of the world of the senses, the world of observation, and went on to seek something that would 'provide the stable, orderly foothold required for rational apprehension, description and explanation' (Rescher 1996, p.10). Plato settled on the 'matter-detached forms', the non-perceptible ideas (Rescher 1996, p.10). I would rather say that Plato discerned an ‘orderly foothold’ in the ‘matter-detached forms’. Saying that he sought one seems to deny his discovery any veridicality. Aristotle is also viewed by some as a process metaphysician for although he regarded substance as fundamental he saw 'the “being” of a natural substance' as always in transition. For Aristotle, substances are always 'involved in the dynamism of change' (Rescher 1996, p.11).

The main difference among process philosophers concerns the type of processes they take as primary and paradigmatic. Whitehead saw physical processes as paradigmatic and believed other processes were modelled on them, Bergson saw biological processes as fundamental, but both conceived the world in organismic terms (Rescher 1996, p.3). All process thinkers hold that 'processes rather than things best represent the phenomena that we encounter in the natural world’ and that process is an ‘essential aspect of everything that exists’ (Rescher 1996, p2/8). Change must be fully taken into account and not de-emphasised in favour of the changeless: ‘For processists, change of every sort – physical, organic, psychological – is the pervasive and predominant feature of the real’ (Rescher 1996, p.7). This notion of change can happily coexist with the unchanging. In Hindu metaphysics, the manifested universe is regarded as 'that which is moving perpetually' (Das 1927/1988, p.41): but the existence of that which moves perpetually (samsâra), the objective world, does not deny the existence of that which eternally exists with all movement enfolded within it complicans or implicitly.

I cannot see any serious objection to the notion that processes are a fundamental feature of existence, or that ‘the real is fundamentally processual in nature’ (Rescher 1996, p.8), so long as the processes envisaged are not purely physical or material. As in

363 Sânkhya, Yoga and Bohm, they must include more subtle processes. Process may also be one element of the unchanging (without denying the existence of a “still” or silent element that is equally constant). Indeed, the out-breathing of Brahman, the manifestation, can be seen in processual terms. Although Brahman is often regarded as stable, fixed and eternal, it is also the cause of the origin, preservation, and continual transformation of the universe and everything in it. The "process" by which this is effected is described in the Vedas variously as thinking, seeing and desiring. For example:

In the beginning this was Self alone … He looking round saw nothing but His Self … He wished for a second. He was so large as man and wife together. He then made his Self to fall in two (pat), and thence arose husband (pati) and wife (patnî) … Verily in the beginning this was Brahman, one only … (The Sacred Books of the East, F. Max Müller cited in Hartshorne and Reese 1953/1963, p.31).

Also, in the Creation Hymn of the RigVeda it says 'Desire came upon that one in the beginning; that was the first seed of mind' (Rig Veda 1981, p.25). The same verse has also been translated as: 'In the beginning Love arose, which was the primal germ cell of the mind' (Rig Veda X,129 cited in Panikkar 1977/2001, p.58). These are all anthropomorphisations but serve to indicate that Brahman, or the eternal, can be seen to be engaged in a process: the (cyclic) process of manifestation, preservation and dissolution/re-absorption. Such processes and entities are not outside the world. Rather, consistent with panentheism, God, the Absolute, and the infinite are not elsewhere, they represent a dimension of what is. They stand apart from the realm of the senses only because physical observation is not the way to them. The way to that which is unchanging, unmoving or unmanifest, is through a reversal of the senses. In Yoga this is known as pratyahâra, which some have translated as "not partaking". Like all metaphysical systems, process philosophy is concerned to locate and describe what exists. If it does not leave anything significant out, and if it does not tend towards materialism or , then it should not conflict with nondualistic metaphysics.

364 The concept of physical field is also important (Rescher 1996, p.40). As Birch and Cobb point out, in a field no event can be singled out, or 'abstracted from the remainder’:

Each event expresses the whole field in that spatio-temporal locus. It cannot be viewed first as a self-contained event which then secondarily has relations to others (Birch and Cobb Jr 1981, p.83).

The field, and the internal relationships of which a field is constituted, are primary in process thought. The primacy of substances is opposed, along with what Whitehead called, ‘the bifurcation of nature’ (Rescher 1996, p.34). The world is seen as a totality of 'organically integrated systems of coordinated processes' (Rescher 1996, p.38) each of which is related to the totality.

One possible problem to be addressed is that process metaphysics may imply a dominant upward causation. For example, in Rescher’s account of Whitehead’s view, the creative process of the universe:

365 is not directed by laws beyond itself but generated from large populations of entities all at once seeking their own fulfillment and contributing, over countless generations, to the great cycle of generational succession that makes for the advance of the whole (Rescher 1996, p.22).

This would appear to go against the grain of Platonism, Sânkhya and Vedânta; but not if it can be argued that the “fertility” or “creativity” of the universe, the fact that entities do seek fulfilment (or self-realisation), is the material that chance and necessity both work with. Thus, the striving for fulfillment and for continuity has ultimately been generated by the source of all. Some laws or patterns evolve out of the processes in which entities are engaged, but other “laws” may still be responsible for the fact that entities, relationships and patterns exist at all. We can also call on Griffin’s argument for a plurality of causation in process metaphysics: ‘If everything actual exerts creative influence on everything else, causation must be multidirectional, coming from every level of reality’ (Griffin and Smith 1989, p.49). Thus, causation is not solely horizontal, generated in the rough and tumble of populations interacting with one another. A truly inclusive view would embrace downward, upward and horizontal causation, as in Bohm’s interpretation of the implicate order (Bohm 1986 a; Bohm 1986 b), and in Griffin’s interpretation of process.

Process metaphysics is a good example of "saving the appearances," and one to heed, in any attempt to provide a framework in which all the necessary features of existence are included and reconciled, including unity and plurality, the One and the Many, time and eternity, matter/thought and intelligence. Indeed, process metaphysics can be adapted to a variety of different systems, and developed in various ways, materialistic, idealistic (Rescher 1996, p.32), or, in this case, nondualiistic.

The following processes can be taken as paradigmatic in my version of qualified nondualism:

ƒ Creativity, which can also be interpreted as intelligent causation

366 ƒ Periodicity (including periods of activity and latency of the Universe) ƒ A process in which the One becomes the Many (while remaining One) and the Many re-become the One at the end of a period of manifestation or series of ages or kalpas. This process is also enacted in microcosmic mental processes, when thought subsides into the “ocean” of consciousness at the end of every movement, or between two thoughts: a process the meditator may become aware of with practise. ƒ Potentiality/actuality and their dynamic relationship. Likewise the known and the unknown are also conceived as dynamically and necessarily interrelated. ƒ Transcendence leading to freedom and creativity, especially the transcendence or negation of thought ƒ self-realisation (as in Maslow) finally culminating in Self-realisation (as in the Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gîtâ)

As indicated in chapter 1, a nondualistic framework for ecophilosophy might be based on two aspects of intrinsic unity, the unity of all, that is the totality of the cosmos, and the unity in all which is the nature of logos as conceived by Heraclitus (Khoruzhii 1996, p.34). The unity in all can also be conceived as the Renaissance microcosmos and the âtman of the Upanishads. Such a perspective highlights the necessity of inner change for the human being, a development of consciousness towards the perception and realisation of this unity; without, however, denying pluralism. I now turn to a fuller examination of some of the necessary ingredients of that framework.

In ‘Moral Pluralism and the Course of Environmental Ethics’, Christopher Stone lists five obstacles currently facing ecophilosophy: (1) the charge of anthropocentrism that faces any and all statements of value, that it is always humans who do the valuing, even if it is decided that trees and so on have value in themselves; (2) the question of what is the foundation of such value judgements, is it some “good,” or is it sentience and the capacity to feel pain?; (3) the related problem of deciding what “things” count and what do not, that is, the criterion for moral considerability; (4) the problem of how

367 these moral obligations are to be discharged; as Stone put it, ‘how does one “do right by” a mountain?’; and (5) what is to be done in the case of conflicting indications, as are likely to be common. There is also the general question facing any moral theory, how to ‘demonstrate that it is cogent and defensible to sacrifice evident ego-pleasures to further something else’ (Stone 2003, p.194). These problems indicate to Stone that it is necessary to eschew moral monism. I shall address some of these questions from a nondualistic point of view.

I believe that the charge of anthropocentrism has been adequately met by Callicott’s distinction between the source and locus of value: humans are the source of value (in that they perceive value), but nature, presumably including humans, is its locus (Callicott 1986 b). Thus, the perception of value is not anthropocentric, even if in some ways it is anthropogenic. There is room here to accommodate other sources of value, should the need arise, in which case human beings would be a source of value and a locus of value. The point as I see it is merely to account for the undeniable fact that humans are in a mode of being characterised by the capacity to locate and perceive value. Whether they have perfected the art of perceiving value is of course debatable. At another level, it can be argued that ultimately the source of the value of the extrinsic unity (as Bruno and Bohm described matter or nature) is the intrinsic unity, and further, that the perception of intrinsic unity is an important innate capacity we ought to develop.

WHO DECIDES WHAT IS OF VALUE?

Stone poses a key eco-philosophical question when he asks: ‘By reference to what principles is the moral and legal world to be carved up into those “things” that count and those that do not?’ (Stone 2003, p.194). As I see it, even if Callicott is right in assuming that humans are the source of value; it does not necessarily follow that humans must decide what “counts” and what does not. To put it bluntly, who died and

368 left them in charge? My question, while not subtly expressed, points to a nuanced reading of the word “source”. That humans are the source of value can mean that humans decide what is of value and what is not. That is one sense in which the Renaissance saying, “Man is the measure of all things” has generally been taken. Mahoney writes that, in the Laws, Plato denounces this dictum from Protagoras, arguing instead that God is the measure of all things (Mahoney1997, p.29). Alternatively it can simply mean, as I take it to mean, that humans are capable of perceiving value, which does not necessarily bind them to the mind-boggling and God-like task of ascribing value, and hence at times consigning others either to life or to death.

The Tao Te Ching teaches that when the empirical self ceases to act in its own right, things that need to be done will be done properly. For instance in the following:

369 Heaven is long-enduring and earth continues long. The reason why heaven and earth are able to endure and continue thus long is because they do not live of, or for, themselves. This is how they are able to continue and endure.

Therefore the sage puts his own person last, and yet it is found in the foremost place; he treats his person as if it were foreign to him; and yet that person is preserved. Is it not because he has no personal and private ends, that therefore such ends are realised? (Lao Tzu 1891/1997, p.6).

On the other hand, the empirical self (or thought) feels as if it must decide what counts, as if we believed that the order of the cosmos is ours to maintain (even though the opposite may be occurring). Taoist metaphysics suggests that there is already something maintaining the universe on its course, there is already something deciding what counts, and that is the Tao of Heaven and Earth (the intrinsic unity). Hindu metaphysics similarly points in the direction of self-negation and Self-affirmation, and there is precedent also in Western traditions, and in Wittgenstein’s logic. In order to know what counts in life, and in nature, it would be necessary to first know all that is the case, and what is not the case, in the sense of Wittgenstein’s dicta:

1. The world is all that is the case …

1.12 … the totality of facts determines what is the case, and also whatever is not the case (Wittgenstein 1921/2001, p.5).

Thus, knowing what is the case, knowing what counts in the world, and knowing what is to count as the world implies a level of omniscience which surely eludes us all. The attempt to decide what counts also deflects attention away from what it is possible and necessary for human beings to do: and that is to develop adequate cognition, to become aware of the Self, and to free ourselves from bondage to the affects and to thought.

ACTION IN A NONDUALISTIC FRAMEWORK

370

Rather than concern ourselves with what “things” count, which in the perspective outlined above is not the primary interest, we could turn our attention inward, and concern ourselves with what kind of action on our part is to be counted as moral; or better still, what action is intelligent and truly far-sighted. The focus then shifts onto the subject, leaving the status of objects up to their maker - be that God, or nature, or the Absolute. In response to the question what kinds of action are moral it would be possible to take at least three different approaches, which tentatively I describe as (1) the Ten Commandments approach; (2) the environmental ethics approach; and (3) the nondual approach.

The Ten Commandments approach might try to list - as thou shalt nots - all the actions that are to be considered immoral. As there is probably no limit to human malfeasance, this is likely to be a lost cause, as the list would have to be infinite. An environmental ethics approach might attempt to list all those creatures and things that are morally considerable, and then try to work out a means of juggling priorities. As shown in chapter 1, this has so far proven difficult, and perhaps impossible. As we do not know the totality of the facts, or all that is the case, on what basis are we to juggle priorities? This conundrum is always apt to lead to anthropocentrism, either actual or alleged. In practice we juggle priorities on the basis of desires that are largely based on ignorance and attachment. Then there is the nondual approach, for want of a better term, which focuses on the quality of the action, what Suzuki has described as the moral energy. It also endorses a type of nondualistic action. It should be pointed out, that a nondual approach need not supplant the Ten Commandments, environmental ethics, the Golden Mean, or any other ethical code; at best it supplements them. In my view, and in that of Deep Ecology, ethical or moral codes are necessary but not sufficient.

In what follows, I hope to explain what I mean by a nondual approach to action, and to demonstrate its relevance to ecophilosophy. Action of course always takes place in a dualistic framework of actor and action, action and result, subject and object. However,

371 I argue that focussing on certain intrinsic qualities of action that have generally been ignored in ethical debates, amounts to taking a nondualistic approach analogous to that of panpsychism. Just as panpsychism is nondualistic in that it invests matter with mentalistic qualities normally considered extrinsic to it, this nondualistic approach invests action with qualities normally considered external to it, including the results of actions performed. Drawing on some of the traditions already discussed in this thesis, I shall try to show that paying attention to the actor rather than to specific actions, on what motivates action rather than on its presumed results, and on the subjectival rather the objective, involves focussing on the unitive or nondual dimension, both as a tool of explanation and a means of resolving problems. Whether or not this approach will be found to have application in ecophilosophy is a matter for future enquiry.

THE KARMA DOCTRINE

There is a precedent in Taoism, Buddhism, the Upanishads, and Yoga for a nondualistic approach to action which focuses not on things and their status, but on ourselves; not on specific actions, but on the quality of our actions generally. The search in this case is for what Mahâyâna Buddhists have called “right action” and what in the Bhagavad Gîtâ is described as selfless action (niskâma karma) or ahimsâ (harmlessness). In terms of ecophilosophy, rather than try to work out which actions are morally right or wrong, it might be decided that any action motivated by greed, fear, or anger is wrong, in that it causes harm to both the doer and the environment, whether or not that harm is immediately detected. The motivation continues to have an unseen effect on the actor and on the environment, long after the initial act is performed. The doctrine of karma covers this position well.

Some have traced the origins of the karma doctrine to tribal religions in the Gangetic plains of India where Buddhism and also flourished, the assumption being that karma was not Vedic in origin. But as O'Flaherty points out, "tribal" may just be a

372 euphemism for source unknown (O'Flaherty 1980a, p.xii-xiii). In any case, she argues that the constant interaction between Buddhism and Vedism obviates any attempt to distinguish the earlier source of doctrines prevalent in these two interrelated systems which clearly influenced each other (O'Flaherty 1980a, xviii). Whatever the source, it is undoubtedly archaic, although the karma doctrine was developed and 'fully established' only in classical and later Indian thought. Christopher Chapple52 notes that there has been an historic and textual development in the treatment of karma. In the RigVeda, it is said that the gods were born after a sacrifice, and kept alive through sacrifice (ritualistic action or yajña). This then developed into the idea that we can shape our lives, and our world, by our actions (the more familiar doctrine of karma). Finally, the Upanishads emphasised an understanding of the type of action that leads to liberation (Chapple 1986, p.7/10).

Almost no one in India has seriously questioned the doctrine's basic principles. Indeed, karma and samsâra are the background and presupposition of all Indian thought (Halbfass 1980, p.271). Widespread acceptance of the basic doctrine, however, has not obviated the existence of inconsistencies and contradictions in various karma theories, especially 'regarding the actual physical mechanism by which karma is transferred from one life to the next' (O'Flaherty 1980b, p.4). Some authors, including David M. Knipe, perceive a tension in the tradition between the desire to prevent , as in the moksha or Liberation doctrines, and the desire to assure rebirth as in the Vedic funeral rites, srâddha' (O'Flaherty 1980b, p.4). There are two kinds of immortality in the Hindu tradition, one is emphasised in the Vedas the other in the Upanishads. The Vedas treat mainly of physical immortality which is 'assured by the birth of a son to perform srâddha rites'; the Upanishads deal almost exclusively with spiritual immortality which is freedom from samsâra, the wheel of birth and death (O'Flaherty 1980b, p.4).

52 Christopher Chapple is Professor of Theological Studies, and Director of Asian and Pacific Studies at Loyola Marymount University.

373 Ronald Neufeldt cites the Theosophical Society (1875) as the first organisation to "preach and teach" karma and reincarnation in the modern West (Neufeldt 1986, p.233). He states that these two ideas might be regarded as the pillars on which all theosophical teaching rests. This is probably a common view, though it should be noted that although much of the literature of the Theosophical Society may be said to take karma and reincarnation as working hypotheses, the Theosophical Society does not maintain any dogma. As stated in its Freedom of Thought Resolution, it holds that:

There is no doctrine, no opinion, by whomsoever taught or held, that is in any way binding on any member of the Society … No teacher, or writer, from H.P. Blavatsky onward, has any authority to impose his or her teachings or opinions on members (Frontispiece , August 2005, published monthly since 1879).

The literal definition of theosophia is divine wisdom, which Madame Blavatsky once pointed out is the wisdom 'such as that possessed by the gods'. is thus a state of mind, a mode of perception, rather than knowledge about God, which would be theology (Blavatsky 1889/1987, p.1). Beyond that, theosophy has purposefully been left undefined by the Theosophical Society. As its fifth International President pointed out, the word, 'is defined neither in the constitution of the Society nor in any official document. It is evidently intended that each one of us should discover for himself what it is or of what nature it is' (Sri Ram 1964).

One of the original aims of the Theosophical Society was the revival and study of what co-founders Blavatsky and Olcott called the Aryan philosophy. In practice this amounted to a spirited defence and study of Vedânta, Buddhism and Yoga.53 Various prominent members and leaders of the Theosophical Society advocated teachings believed to have been part of the religious and philosophic culture of past civilisations, including the ancient Egyptian and ancient Hindu, as expressed, for example in Blavatsky's (Blavatsky 1877/1972 a.; Blavatsky 1877/1972 b.) and in Annie Besant's The Ancient Wisdom (Besant 1897/1969). This involved the

374 dissemination of doctrines such as karma and reincarnation, which had not only been ignored in the West but also largely lost to view in colonial South Asia.

Besant regards reincarnation as 'one of the pivotal doctrines of the Ancient Wisdom', and karma as the 'great law of causation under which rebirths are carried on' (Besant 1897/1969, p.197/267). Among her non-Indian sources for the doctrine, Besant quotes St. Paul: 'Be not deceived: God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth that shall he also reap' (Besant 1897/1969, p.272). In Blavatsky's writings karma is regarded as a law of retribution and the law of harmony. In Key to Theosophy she writes:

We describe Karma as that Law of re-adjustment which ever tends to restore disturbed equilibrium in the physical, and broken harmony in the moral world …

Think now of a pond. A stone falls into the water and creates disturbing waves. These waves oscillate backwards and forwards till at last, owing to the operation of what physicists call the law of the dissipation of energy, they are brought to rest, and the water returns to its condition of calm tranquillity. Similarly all action, on every plane, produces disturbance in the balanced harmony of the Universe, and the vibrations so produced will continue to roll backwards and forwards, if its area is limited, till equilibrium is restored. But since each such disturbance starts from some particular point, it is clear that equilibrium and harmony can only be restored by the reconverging to that same point of all the forces which were set in motion from it. And here you have proof that the consequences of a man's deeds, thoughts, etc. must all react upon himself with the same force with which they were set in motion (Blavatsky 1889/1987, p.205-6).

Dr Besant's treatment of karma may be summed up in the following key points:

ƒ There is no such things as chance or accident; ‘every event is linked to a preceding cause, to a following effect' (Besant 1897/1969, p.267-8).

53 Indeed, Colonel Olcott was responsible for the revival of , then Ceylon.

375 ƒ Because ‘destiny lies in a realm of law’, we have in our hands the means to build our future characters and circumstances (Besant 1897/1969, p.271). ƒ The chains that bind are of our own forging (Besant 1897/1969, p. 275). ƒ There are three classes of energies involved in karma: mental (thought), emotional (desire) and physical (action); and by far the most potent of these is thought. Thought shapes the character, and so by understanding and mastering thought we can shape character as surely 'as a bricklayer can build a wall' (Besant 1897/1969, p.276). ƒ Thoughts also have a powerful effect on the wider environment, as ‘they lead a quasi-independent life - still keeping up a magnetic tie with their progenitor’ (Besant 1897/1969, p.277). ƒ Motive 'is far more important than action’ (Besant 1897/1969, p.284-5). ƒ Desire is the binding element in karma (Besant 1897/1969, p.295). ƒ Natural laws, such as the law of karma, 'only lay down conditions under which all workings must be carried on, but do not prescribe the workings; so that man remains ever free at the centre, while limited in his external activities' (Besant 1897/1969, p.268-9).

Besant’s view is echoed in Karl Potter’s depiction of the classical karma theory, which holds that:

[C]ertain fundamental features of one's present life - vis., the genus, species, and class into which one had been born, the length of life one is (likely) to live, and the type of affective experiences one is having - are conditioned by one's actions in a previous existence (Potter 1986, p.109).

Radhakrishnan covers precisely the same ground as Besant when outlining the doctrine of karma in “The Ethics of the Vedânta” (Radhakrishnan 1914 a). Both Potter and Chapple point out that the purpose of Yoga is to provide a means to liberate oneself from the wheel of karma (Chapple 1986; Potter 1980, p.245), a view endorsed by Besant in several works including An Introduction to Yoga (Besant 1908/1976).

376

Two areas in which Besant deviates from the core karma doctrine, as Potter, Creel and others have seen it, are in her supposition of collective karma and the existence of what she refers to as the "Lords of Karma". Besant emphasises the power of thought and desire to gather round the individual the body, life, and experiences appropriate to the working out of karma (and also to spiritual development), but then takes a more anthropomorphic turn, when writing of the Lords of Karma or Lipika (mentioned by Blavatsky in ). The Lords of Karma, she writes, guide the individual:

[T]o incarnate in a family, a nation, a place, a body, suitable for the exhaustion of that aggregate of causes which can be worked out together. This aggregate of causes fixes the length of that particular life; gives to the body its characteristics, its powers, and its limitations; brings into contact with the man the souls incarnated within that life-period to whom he has contracted obligations, surrounding him with the relatives, friends, and enemies; marks out the social conditions into which he is born … (Besant 1897/1969, p.286-7).

The mechanism by which karmic effects accrue to the doer is generally given a less anthropomorphic treatment in Hindu metaphysics in two notions, adrsta and apûrva, both of which attempt to describe the mechanism of cause and effect. Halbfass defines adrsta as 'the retributive potency of past deeds stored as a quality of the soul (âtman)' (Halbfass 1980, p.281). The word means unseen or invisible, from the root dr, meaning "to see". The term adrsta is almost synonymous with karma but is mainly used in conjunction with physical occurrences, referring to 'the circulation of water in trees’, but also to, ‘the initial movements’ of atoms and minds (Halbfass 1980, p.285). Adrsta also refers to the invisible results of ritual and ethical actions be they meritorious or not. In this sense it is synonymous with apûrva, which is 'the effect and the stored power of the sacrifice', a power that is 'stored and coordinated in the soul' (Halbfass 1980, p.283/282). Radhakrishnan quotes a Nyâya aphorism which says: 'our actions, though

377 apparently disappearing, remain, unperceived, and reappear in their effects as tendencies' (Radhakrishnan 1911, p.467). The effects of our actions remain unseen, adrsta, and reappear as tendencies samskâras and vâsanâs.

Blavatsky regards karma and reincarnation as vehicles for and the development of spiritual consciousness. Indeed in the writings of Blavatsky and of Besant, the twin subjects of karma and reincarnation are always linked with a third, that of evolution. Neufeldt interprets this as utopian, but it can also be regarded as Platonic or Pythagorean, and it features prominently in Ken Wilber’s work:

Life is seen as a pilgrimage toward a re-establishment of the harmony and unity which existed before involution, toward the development of the divine being which man is in his true essence … The belief in rebirth is essentially a belief in the ascension of life to higher and higher levels of existence, towards the unity from which all came or emanated in the first place (Neufeldt 1986, p.250).

Another “utopian” element in the Blavatsky karma doctrine is reflected in her belief that knowledge of the laws of karma and reincarnation would, in Neufeldt's words, 'create a society characterized by virtue' in which selfishness would eventually be eliminated (Neufeldt 1986, p.252). Both Radhakrishnan (1888-1975) and (1872- 1950), writing some time after her, share Blavatsky's evolutionary view of karma.

Robert Minor summarises the Radhakrishnan/Aurobindo argument in four points: ƒ The world is engaged in an evolutionary process set in motion by the Divine, or Brahman. In this view, karma and reincarnation mean 'growth and education' ƒ The end of this progressive, spiritual, process is 'a revelation of the Absolute' ƒ Human beings are active in this process ƒ The best life 'is one which promotes the evolution to its ultimate goal' (Minor 1986, p.16).

378 Radhakrishnan and Aurobindo perceived a ‘movement of spirit’ behind biological evolution: ‘In fact, the world process is viewed as essentially an evolution of consciousness from inconscient matter to what would some day be a universal or cosmic consciousness' (Minor 1986, p.16). To Aurobindo, the 'universe is as real as the Absolute, for it is the Absolute in becoming’. Equally, Radhakrishnan affirms the integrity of the manifested universe, in every part of which Brahman is immanent. He argues that the world is Brahman: 'Hence, instead of being an illusion, the world is the sole reality. There is nothing else besides it' ("The Vedânta Philosophy and the Doctrine of Mâyâ" 1914, cited in Minor 1986, p.19). On the other hand, in Minor’s view, Radhakrishnan does not give 'the world process an equal status with the Absolute' (Minor 1986, p.23). The world is relative, being dependent on the Absolute for its existence (Minor 1986, p.20). Further, in Minor’s reading of Radhakrishnan:

[T]he changes of the world do not affect the integrity of perfection, of the Absolute. Evolution and novelty do certainly exist, but they belong solely to the cosmic side of the picture, and their function is to reveal the immutable presence of an Absolute to which they add nothing (cited in Minor 1986, p.22).

We have already discussed the possibility that the dependence of the world on the Absolute for its existence does not necessarily imply that the world is of a lower status. Process metaphysics and the doctrine of dipolarity have demonstrated several ways in which an affirmation of the primacy and independence of the Absolute need not imply a devaluation of the contingent world, nor deny freedom and creativity to the world. Following Cusanus’s notion of the contacted infinite, Bohm also affirmed that the world of things and lives and minds, though being only semi-autonomous, is yet grounded in and permeated by freedom and creativity: thought being the only real barrier to either.

Several authors, other than Besant and Radhakrishnan, have noted the compatibility of the karma doctrine with free will and moral freedom (see for example Creel 1986, p.3). Past actions may have placed us where we are, and established certain character traits, but we are free to respond to circumstances as we see fit. As Mahadevan put it, karma is

379 what we have achieved in the past, and we are answerable to it. We also possess tendencies and dispositions (samskâras and vâsanâs) which predispose us to act in one way or another. But all this can be changed in the present, and the future shaped accordingly ("Indian Ethics and Social Practice" Philosophy and Culture East and West (Charles A. Moore ed.) 1962, cited in Creel 1986, p.4). Karma is above all a doctrine of personal responsibility. Along with the idea that ‘our moral lives are not chaos', comes the understanding that the power to affect change in our lives is ultimately ours alone (T.M.P. Mahadevan cited in Creel 1986, p.2). Thus, the relationship between freedom and karma should not be problematic. Past actions and their traces establish the circumstances in which we find ourselves and set the tone of our lives but do not totally determine our present actions and responses. The present remains the architect of the future. It should also be kept in mind that, as pointed out in the Bhagavad Gîtâ, the âtman or Self is always free; the body-mind complex is never free. Freedom for the human being consists largely in freedom from desire and fear (in short, from thought), and thus freedom from the binding element in karma.

SOME IMPLICATIONS OF THE KARMA DOCTRINE

Action is normally viewed in dualistic terms, with a hiatus between an action and its consequences, the cause and its effect. In the time interval, and in the conceptual interval, between the action and its consequences enters the hope of avoiding or ignoring negative consequences, some of which, such as ecosystemic impacts, may be subtle and take time to reveal themselves. In the nondualist view of action outlined below (the nondualism is of cause and effect, as well as actor and action), and in the karma doctrine outlined above, the consequences of an action are written in the action itself, and so, cannot be avoided. On the contrary, they can be predicted with some . Life is an infinitely complex intermingling of cause and effect, and the consequences of an act may be played out visibly or invisibly, in a myriad of ways. A degree of accident or chance may determine the exact colour or shape of a consequence, but its moral tone is predetermined by the act that was its cause: it is the adrsta, the

380 unseen effect. At least this is the nondualistic view of action or karma encountered in Buddhist and Hindu metaphysics.

The word karma means “action,” from kri to do, or, to make. However, as every action has an effect, seen and unseen, near and far, present and future - karma incorporates both action and the reaction it has caused. In Suzuki’s words, the principle of karma ‘is causation morally conceived’ (Suzuki 1907/1973, p.33). The principal doctrine of karma is often expressed in the adage “as you sow so shall you reap,” but there is a great deal to karma that eludes mechanistic explanation. The image Blavatsky employed is of dropping a stone into a still pond; the action of dropping the stone also includes the total ripple effect, not all of which is obvious. According to the law of karma, and the laws of physics, the waves or vibrations will continue to move back and forth until the point of stillness is regained. Thus, Suzuki claims that the principle of karma ‘may be regarded as an application in our ethical realm of the theory of the conservation of energy’ (Suzuki 1907/1973, p.34). It may also be regarded as an application in the ethical realm of Bohm’s notion of active information by which he attempted to explain the quantum potential.

The doctrine of karma argues for something like active information at the moral level. Every act performed informs the moral sphere with a particular energy, a form, that will shape future events according to the “information” that it carries; and like the quantum potential, the intensity of the effect depends only on the form, distance will not mitigate its effect. In the doctrine of karma, the traces of action are known as samskâra and vâsanâ. Chapple explains that samskâra derives from the same root as karma, and the prefix sam means “together” or “with”. Therefore, samskâra might be translated as ‘(that which obtains) with action’ (Chapple 1975/1993, p.256). The verbal root of vâsanâ (vas) means, “to dwell”. The term refers to the habit patterns, impressions, conditioning, predispositions, and latent tendencies that linger in the psyche as traces of past actions (Chapple 1975/1993, p.256).

381 As already shown in connection with the attenuation of the klesas (afflictions) in the Yoga Sûtras, it is understood that every action leaves a trace in the body-mind complex, and consequently, every action will be productive of a future effect that binds the actor to further action. The only type of action that does not bind the doer, or leave any binding trace in the psyche, is action that is not from a centre (the empirical self) and is free from desire. This does not render empirical selves impotent to act because liberation doctrines presuppose that the empirical self is not all there is to being human; thus, freedom from conditioned responses is possible. (An assumption that informs Bohm’s understanding of attention.) Like almost all doctrines of Hindu metaphysics, the doctrine of karma is associated with the ultimate goal of liberation or moksha. According to this doctrine, freedom consists in seeing through the illusion of separateness, seeing that thought is always conditioned, and realising one’s true nature as the universal Self or âtman, the ground of being.

Stone mentions that the term environmental ethics, ‘suggests the possibility of a distinct moral regime for managing our way through environment-affecting conduct’ (Stone 2003, p.196). The emphasis in his argument, and in its rebuttals, has been on what moral regimes, and how many, are required in the management of environment- affecting conduct. Stone argues that there is not one moral regime that would cover all such action. According to the doctrine of karma, however, all conduct is environment- affecting, and the most affecting conduct of all is the act of thinking. Thus the Dhammapada begins, as already quoted:

All that we are is the result of what we have thought; it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage (in Yutang 1944/1954, p.305).

Often we are only aware of the outer form of an action and not its inner motivation. What is most important in Mahâyâna Buddhism and Upanishadic philosophy is the motivation, the inner well-spring of action, which largely boils down to thought. It is

382 what is thought, what is felt, and what is desired that determines the state of mind and the quality of action.

It is not always possible to judge the quality of action from externals; the absence of unethical behaviour at any given moment does not necessarily indicate that the person, or policy, or situation is morally sound. A line of stand-up comedy on Australia’s ABC Television expressed this succinctly. Recited by a guitar duo (Flight Of The Conchords) performing a song they had written for the machines of the future ‘should they survive us’, it spoke of a future ‘in which there are no more elephants; and no more unethical treatment of elephants either’.54 By a similar logic, what is of concern in a nondualistic approach to ethics is not the apparent absence of unethical behaviour at any given moment, but the reason for it. Ethicists may wish to see an end to the unethical treatment of elephants, but presumably not if it is because elephants have become extinct. The absence of unethical behaviour is not always indicative of the presence of an ethical mind-set; so, as the mentality is primary, the nondual approach concerns itself primarily with that, rather than its outer expression in various forms of behaviour.

The Buddhist conception of karma, as stated by Suzuki, puts the foregoing in a nutshell:

Any act, good or evil, once committed and conceived, never vanishes like a bubble in water, but lives, potentially or actively as the case may be, in the world of minds and deeds. This mysterious moral energy, so to speak, is embodied in and emanates from every act and thought … When the time comes, it is sure to germinate and grow with all its vitality (Suzuki 1907/1973, p.183).

Suzuki’s expression “moral energy” is multi-layered in meaning. It alludes to the fact that the effect of an action continues; that it possesses an energy that will continue to act until spent or transmuted, as circumstances dictate. It also appears to suggest that acts

54 Stand Up! screened on ABC Television: 15/04/04, at 10 pm.

383 are either moral or immoral primarily on the basis of what fuels them, that is, their “energy”, which is largely a matter of motivation.

KARMA YOGA

Further elaboration of a nondualistic approach to ethics, and to action, may be found in the elucidation of karma yoga in the Bhagavad Gîtâ. Being concerned with the quality of the moral energy, the Gîtâ distinguishes between actions that are fuelled by desire and acts that are selfless. Thus it says in the Gîtâ chapter 4 verses 19-23:

He whose undertakings are all free from the will of desire, whose works are burned up in the fire of wisdom - him the wise call a man of learning / Having abandoned attachment to the fruit of works, ever content, without any kind of dependence, he does nothing though he is ever engaged in work / Having no desires, with his heart and self under control, giving up all possessions, performing action by the body alone, he commits no wrong / He who is satisfied with whatever comes by chance, who has passed beyond the dualities (of pleasure and pain), who is free from jealousy, who remains the same in success and failure - even when he acts, he is not bound / The work of a man whose attachments are sundered, who is liberated, whose mind is firmly founded in wisdom, who does work as a sacrifice, is dissolved entirely (That is, his action does not bind him to cosmic existence) (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.117-8).

In the Bhagavad Gîtâ, the emphasis is not on which acts or professions are moral, but on what basic attitudes are moral; namely, those that are free from attachment and ‘firmly founded in wisdom’. Karma yoga might thus be described as follows:

Not by abstention from work does a man attain freedom from action; nor by mere renunciation does he attain to his perfection / For no one can remain even for a moment without doing work [actionless]; every one is made to act helplessly by the impulses born of nature / He who restrains his organs of action but continues in his mind to

384 brood over the objects of sense, whose nature is deluded, is said to be a hypocrite (a man of false conduct) / But he who controls the senses by the mind, O Arjuna, and without attachment engages the organs of action in the path of work, he is superior (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.112-3).

The emphasis in the Gîtâ, then, is not on what is done, but on why or how it is done. The teachings are given by Krishna on a battlefield, where Arjuna, faced with the dilemma of having to slay his relatives in battle, finds himself confused as to his duty (chapter 2 verse 7 Bhagavad Gîtâ 1905/1979). This seminal text, one of whose principal themes is that of harmlessness (ahimsâ), has Lord Krishna (the divine principle) telling Arjuna to do whatever is his duty, which in this case is to go into battle. He is advised not to fear the consequences of his actions, but to act on the basis of the knowledge imparted in the text, to act in the fullness of knowledge, or on the basis of adequate cognition. One of the teachings given to him (BG 2:17-18) follows, in two translations. It is concerned with the fact that the finite world is perishable - whatever we do or do not do - and that nothing can touch the imperishable essence of life which is infinite:

Know thou that that by which all this is pervaded is indestructible. Of this immutable being, no one can bring about the destruction / It is said that these bodies of the eternal embodied soul, which is indestructible and incomprehensible, come to an end. Therefore, fight, O Bhârata (Arjuna) (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.107).

Know That to be indestructible by which all this is pervaded. No one is ever able to destroy that Immutable / These bodies are perishable; but the dwellers in these bodies are eternal, indestructible and impenetrable. Therefore fight, O descendent of Bharata! (Swami Paramananda translation in Yutang 1944/1954, p.57).

Arjuna is also told that all contacts with matter are equal (BG 2:14):

Contacts with their objects, O son of Kunti (Arjuna) give rise to cold and heat, pleasure and pain. They come and go and do not last

385 forever; these learn to endure, O Bhârata (Arjuna) (Radhakrishnan and Moore 1957, p.107).

Contacts with objects include not only the sensory objects familiar to empirical science but all mental processes as well. Thus, the pleasure and pain derived from contact with matter and with the affects (which are also material processes) are all of a piece, so far as the Gîtâ is concerned, just as in Bruno’s cosmology all is equal in the eyes of the Infinite.

The harmlessness in the Gîtâ does not refer to certain actions that are to be considered harmless and others that are harmful and should be eschewed; both the harm and harmlessness is in the actor, and their effects are both local and pervasive. What is of concern is the moral energy, which has multiple effects, both seen and unseen, potential and actual. The prime distinction is between (1) action that is based on an awareness of the intrinsic unity; and (2) action that is fuelled by desire, and based on misidentification and delusion. Both the right action of Mahâyâna Buddhism and the selfless action of the Gîtâ are based on understanding the nature of reality, and on discriminating between the false and the true, the temporal and the eternal, the perishable and the imperishable. Above all, right action is cognisant of the fact that the explicate order or the phenomenal world is not all that exists.

ETHICAL DILEMMAS IN A NONDUALISTIC FRAMEWORK

How a nondualistic approach to action might play out in a practical sense can be illustrated with reference to the choices facing governments in regard to refugees. Much as I stress the word might, I would like to de-stress the word practical, and emphasise the fact that I am using what follows to illustrate an alternative model of action, based on nondualism; not to launch a new political program. The situation in question was highlighted in an extract from Sending Them Home: The New World of Refugee Politics

386 by Robert Manne and David Corlett (Black Inc), which appeared as an article in The Sydney Morning Herald entitled: ‘The Quality of our Mercy’ (Manne and Corlett 2004, p.6-7). It asked why Australia should behave generously towards those 12,000 or so refugees who reached or tried to reach our shores, out of the estimated 14 million worldwide? To set the scene, the authors devised what they believed to be a comparable hypothetical situation, that of a savagely attacked woman appearing at the door seeking help. They ask the reader to imagine responding to her in the following way:

We understand the difficulties you face, but you must understand ours. Do you not realise that there are, in this city, thousands of women who have been in a situation like yours? If we offered you help - which, of course, we are sorely tempted to do - is it not obvious that news would soon spread beyond this neighbourhood that, when it comes to women in your position, we are a soft touch? … Where would it all end?

We noticed, by the way, that you arrived in an unlicensed taxi. Many of the women from the poorer neighbourhoods could not, even remotely, have afforded to pay the exorbitant fare. Their situation is, to our certain knowledge, frequently even more terrible than yours. We already donate considerable sums to philanthropic organisations devoted to helping victims of violence. You must understand that our resources are limited. We are afraid that we have no alternative but to demand that you go away (Manne and Corlett 2004, p.6).

Manne and Corlett conclude this part of their argument with the suggestion that anyone turning away the victim of an attack, with this sort of reasoning, would be regarded as morally reprehensible. Yet it is no stretch of the imagination to see the actions of the Australian government towards “queue jumping” refugees in precisely such terms.

With reference to the parable of the Good Samaritan, they then suggest:

Once we become aware of an appeal for help from an individual whose suffering we know is real and whom we have the capacity to

387 assist, a human relationship is established … It is no longer within our power to pretend that in the appeal to us for help nothing of significance has occurred. Whatever we do, for good or for ill, we will have to live with the consequences (Manne and Corlett 2004, p.6).

This they call the “ethics of proximity”, which, I believe, is open to a nondualistic interpretation. In part, such an ethic consists of a direct humane response to the matter at hand, with no bifurcation of reality into present actions and expectations of future results. It might be argued that this would amount to carelessness of a kind, acting with no thought for the morrow; helping someone in need now, regardless of whether or not that action will have adverse future impacts on the society that is presently proffering aid. In terms of the parable of the Good Samaritan and the doctrine of karma, however, the moral energy of an act reverberates all around us. Therefore, helping the battered woman and the refugee, whose suffering we know is real and whom we are able to help, does not strain the quality of mercy but in fact stretches it infinitely across the surface and below the depths of the field of action, in ways that may not all be immediately obvious.

It is not within the scope of the present thesis to work out the political implications of a nondualistic approach to action, and with a flourish, attempt a resolution of the refugee crisis. I merely propose that, in a nondualistic eco-philosophical framework, attention might be paid to the view of action and of ethics that exists in nondualistic schools of Hindu and Buddhist metaphysics. The argument will inevitably be made that the ethics of proximity proposed by Manne and Corlett is impractical and perhaps even suicidal, in the field of politics and foreign relations. That may be so, though it would be difficult to prove it. I am merely suggesting that there is sufficient precedent in well constructed nondualistic metaphysical systems, Eastern and Western, from the Upanishads to Bohm, to take on board Hindu and Buddhist doctrines of karma and causation; at least on a trial basis. Certainly there is an argument based on consistency for a nondualistic ethic to accompany a nondualistic metaphysic.

388

Causation is a complex phenomenon, in the metaphysical as in the political spheres. Even so, we seem to assume that linearity and locality prevail in the cause/effect relationship in the moral sphere, just as we assume that they prevail materially. In fact, it is possible that nonlocal and nondual effects predominate in the field of consciousness, just as they (apparently) do at the subatomic level. As mentioned earlier, Bohm has suggested: ‘the general implicate process of ordering is common to both mind and to matter’ (Bohm 1990, p.273). If it can be argued that nonlocality, the quantum potential, and active information explain how strong effects can occur at great distances with no form of contact among particles, and if it can be entertained that at some level nonduality models reality more closely than duality does, then we might countenance the proposition that at the moral level nonlocality and unity might be dominant forces. If nonduality and nonlocality were to be regarded as relevant forces at the moral level, that would rather dramatically change the face of ecophilosophy and the way we approach ethics. As a beginning, the doctrines of karma, Self-realisation and associated tenets might then be examined with a view to gleaning their insights, rather than revealing their absurdities.

The nondualistic approach to action that I have proposed is underscored by the doctrine of karma, with its key premise expressed by Suzuki and already quoted as:

Any act, good or evil, once committed and conceived, never vanishes like a bubble in water, but lives, potentially or actively as the case may be, in the world of minds and deeds. This mysterious moral energy, so to speak, is embodied in and emanates from every act and thought … When the time comes, it is sure to germinate and grow with all its vitality (Suzuki 1907/1973, p.183).

If what Suzuki says is true, then there is possibly no way of avoiding the consequences of our actions, good or ill, no matter how much time might elapse between a cause and its effect. Furthermore, if every act leaves a trace and becomes a seed that will

389 germinate in time, then what is to germinate from a thought or an act might be predicted on the basis of the structure and disposition of the motivation. If an oak seed can be predicted to become an oak, then why is it assumed that an act of genuine compassion might be productive of negative effects? It even belies Kantian logic to think that the Good would be railroaded in this way. Compassion multiplied, or compassion plus time, does not at some point become greed.

The assumption that compassion or generosity begets laziness, or unemployment, or social unrest is, I argue, unsupportable. The real cause of an increase in the number of refugees trying to reach Australian shores might not be that Australia behaves towards all arrivals in need with compassion; it may be a function of world-wide overpopulation, long-standing cycles of greed, or ecological collapse. (Dare I say, at the risk of sounding flippant, it might be karma!). In any case, attempting to attribute causation is always a perilous academic exercise; any given event may be the result of actions taking place in the present, together with karma that is fructifying from the past. According to the doctrine of karma, some actions bear fruit immediately, others only in the future. The Yoga Sûtras and the Upanishads have suggested that suffering is the result of avidyâ, the ignorance of our true natures as the Self in the aspect of eternity, ignorance of the true nature of things, and bondage to the passions. This primordial ignorance generates all the other causes of suffering, and until that ignorance is uprooted suffering is inevitable. Buddhist teachings likewise point to ignorance (and desire) as the cause of suffering, suggesting, however, that we are ignorant of fundamental anâtman -the lack of self-continuity.

The causative power of the structures of consciousness, of which we are largely unaware, acting in concert with the effects of day-to-day acts, highlights the necessity of both mid-term and long-term approaches to ethical problems. In my view, neither can we entirely rely on ultimate-end style solutions, nor should we completely exclude them from eco-philosophic enquiry, as has been the case.

390

391 CONCLUSION

As pointed out earlier, avidyâ or ignorance is a lack of insight into what is eternal and what is transitory, what is pure consciousness and what is conditioned, what is measurable and what is not. Ultimately therefore, right action is based on insight, and takes place in a unitive dimension in which the empirical self or thought has been negated, even if temporarily. Evanescent as this experience and understanding may be, it is argued by Patañjali and others that such practices and insights weaken the hold of the psychological afflictions (klesas). I am suggesting that to a certain extent our actions and their unseen effects would be transformed as the result. Although talk of transformation sounds grandiose and potentially deluded, the model is a rational one in which freedom and insight inform action. My (untested) assumption is that such action will be ecologically benign, and predispose the individual so oriented to a life that is simple in means but profoundly rich in ends.

Stone alludes to the ‘sacrifice of evident ego-pleasures’, implied in moral reasoning (Stone 2003, p.194). By contrast, the nondualistic approach to pleasure does not involve sacrifice, or, for that matter, indulgence; neither does the Deep Ecology approach, with Naess’s emphasis on beautiful acts. The âtman doctrine and the doctrine of karma are in large part devoted to revealing the illusory nature of ego-pleasures. Pythagoras, Plato, the authors of the Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gîtâ, and the Yoga Sûtras, each have argued that real happiness is to be found in wisdom and psychological freedom, not in pleasure. The ecological crisis seems to re-affirm the transience of ego-pleasures and the destructive shallowness of short-term personal gains; it might be taken as an object lesson in how not to live.

According to the âtman doctrine, and many other forms of nondualistic metaphysics, there already exists something that possesses what the empirical self desires, there already is something within us that is secure, liberated, and happy; that is the âtman, or non-empirical Self, which is at the heart of every living being and every atom. In this

392 respect the desires of the empirical self are both redundant and unachievable. Security, freedom, and happiness are not to be found in attachments, but in the universal Self, the pure consciousness that is our innermost nature. The Yoga Sûtras and Mahâyâna Buddhist texts such as the Lankâvatâra Sûtra, maintain that it is the nature of thought or the empirical self to be afflicted, conditioned, insecure, alienated, and restless. What is required, so far as these traditions are concerned, is not a renovation of the empirical self but a transcendence of it through understanding. This is the principal way of Vedânta and Yoga, as it is of Bohm and Krishnamurti. What is required is not some , but an understanding of the process of thought; and in that understanding is its negation. I argue that this is the chief method, not only of Buddhism, Taoism, Yoga, and the Upanishads but also of Spinoza and Bohm.

I have tried to show that Spinoza’s freedom of mind and adequate cognition are essentially the same thing as the direct perception of God or the Absolute, spoken of by Platonists and Vedântists. The direct perception of God, or of anything else for that matter, can only come about through freedom of mind based on understanding. For perception to be unmediated, and unconditioned, there must be freedom from the affects or the passions. That is the conclusion reached by Spinoza and Patañjali. I have also tried to show the relevance of direct perception and freedom of mind to environmental ethics, and to communication, which is the creation of a shared meaning that is not a mere repetition of the meaning of the past. Such an approach seems to be supported by the work of Bruno, Spinoza, and Bohm; and by the revived doctrine of panpsychism. Each of these systems of thought support a nondualism of mind and matter, of self and world, of subject and object, and of action and consequence.

One way to reject human/nature dualism is to emphasise relationship. This is the ecofeminist approach. Another is to emphasise oneness or unity. A third is to emphasise something else, the “ground”, of which self and world, relationship and oneness, are products and reflections. That is the nondualistic approach outlined in the present thesis,

393 based on Hindu metaphysics, the doctrine of panpsychism, and Bohm’s theory of the implicate or generative order.

Callicott has advanced the community as the base or root moral concept on which an environmental ethic might be constructed. That is, I believe, a logical step for environmental ethics to take, though it raises the (perhaps) irresolvable problem of what is to be included in the community, a problem that inevitably leads either to anthropocentrism or to the charge of anthropocentrism. In a nondual metaphysic the base concept might instead be the intrinsic unity, both explicate and implicate. The totality of the cosmos, or “what is”, then becomes the community. As a category, this is so broad that it would seem to be of little use. But that is only the case if we maintain the habit of focusing our attention on the objective sphere, on the objects of moral considerability; rather than, as here proposed, shift our attention onto the subject, the perception of value as a moral act, and the moral energy or quality of our acts. I have suggested that in a nondualistic framework the attention would shift onto us, the subject, the actor; and that the universal structures of consciousness, or thought, would then be scrutinised. At present the opposite is occurring; proposed objects of moral considerability are scrutinised for philosophic consistency and functionality, while the thinker and thought are left unexamined. Particular habits or schools of thought are studied, but, in the humanities, little attention is paid to the process of thinking itself, except in departments or sub-disciplines of psychology.

The intrinsic unity that I propose as the basis of a new axiology is not an emotional sense of oneness, infused with our wants and needs; rather, it is the metaphysical substance discovered by the authors of the Upanishads, by Plato, and by Bohm, to be at the metaphoric heart of reality, its ultimate source, and also at the innermost centre of the human being. In my version of a nondualistic ethic the moral sentiment is a quality of this âtman or Self. It is present in pure consciousness (as what we might interpret as love or compassion) but relatively absent or dim in the empirical self or jîva, which is nothing but the sum total of the affects or passions, and hence never free either to see

394 things as they are, or to respond from anything but a conditioned point of view. Freedom of mind is possible only for the human being aware of the limitations of the empirical self and free of thought. Such freedom is the only sound basis for moral behaviour, and it is equally essential to creativity. This is because thought is inseparable from self-interest, “mind” consisting of three distinct but interrelated faculties: buddhi, manas and ahamkâra, insight, cognition and I-am-ness.

In line with Platonic thought, I have argued that the intrinsic unity or the totality can only be apprehended by direct intuitive perception. For such perception to occur there must be great clarity of mind, and a passion to see clearly. The intrinsic unity cannot be analysed, encompassed, or possessed by the empirical self (though it is possible to point towards it). Bohm has argued that attention involves the suspension of thought, and that, unlike thought, attention is not a product of time. As such, attention is not subject to all the limitations of the empirical self. Although it may seem a stretch to equate attention with the aspect of eternity, I argue that a close reading of both Spinoza and Bohm leads to this conclusion. Spinoza argues that eternity is not infinitely extended time; it is of an altogether different order than that of extension. Similarly, Bohm argues that attention is of a different order than thought, which is a material process, and that intelligence is not of time.

In advancing the doctrines of nondualistic metaphysics, and suggesting that ecophilosophy is in need of a nondualistic framework, I do not attempt to remove ecophilosophy from contextual negotiation, but instead seek a deeper engagement with the metaphysics and philosophy with which many eco-philosophers are already engaged. When communicative rationality is discussed, I believe it is important to question whether communication is possible without the freedom of mind discussed in the foregoing. Rather than impose a false unity, as is often assumed of Self-realisation doctrines, I have tried to emphasise previously neglected unitive elements of the self/world relationship, and of self-understanding.

395 Within the field of ecophilosophy, to date, there has mainly been a negative reaction to doctrines such as Self-realisation imported into ecophilosophy by Deep Ecology. I have attempted to show some of the ways in which these doctrines might be incorporated into the eco-philosophical canon, to advantage. Due to a lack of engagement with the nondualistic metaphysics it has embraced, Deep Ecology has not always been the best conduit for some of these ideas. For all its allusions to the religious dimension, Deep Ecology has avoided discussion of the divine principle, which is fundamental to all schools of thought and texts affiliated with Platonism or traditional metaphysics. Perhaps this is the result of unfamiliarity with the relevant doctrines. Or on the other hand, a near-silence on this issue may be an (understandable) attempt to bypass the negatively loaded “God question”. I find that in Deep Ecology literature, as a result of this inattention to detail, unassimilated elements of nondualistic religio-philosophies sit uncomfortably alongside elements of modern analytic philosophy such as value theory, with little indication if any as to how these disparate elements might be reconciled.

Rather than retreat in the face of criticism, however, I think it in order for Deep Ecology to advance further in the direction in which it originally set off. Deep Ecology departed from the era of shallow environmentalism and the technological fix, to question the deeper causes of the ecological crisis. Along the way, it adopted various metaphysical doctrines including that of Self-realisation, which it then proceeded to reinterpret along more ecological, and less spiritual or radical lines. I believe, however, that rather than abandon this project and regard it as a failed experiment, we should continue with it and re-examine the sources on which Deep Ecology has drawn with a view to deepening our understanding of nonduality.

The nondualistic framework I have attempted to construct treats of various types of nondualism:

ƒ The nondualism of self and world, and of relationship and oneness, based on the intrinsic unity common to both. With the world or nature regarded as the Self fully

396 extended, and the self regarded as a “knot” or intersection in the web of life, the dualism of “I-ness” and “otherness” might be resolved, along with the apparent contradiction between the ethic of relationship and that of oneness. Self and world, microcosm and macrocosm, are two expressions of the infinite totality. The explicate and the implicate orders are twin expressions of the totality. Together they comprise the contracted infinite. The unmanifest source of them both is the true, or infinite, infinite. ƒ The nondualism of mind and matter based on implicating the mentalistic in the material, and investing matter with qualities normally attributed to consciousness, resolves mind/matter dualism with recourse to a unitive substance that might be regarded as spirit/matter. ƒ The nondualism of observer and observed arises in connection with the doctrine of direct intuitive perception. This has many applications to value ethics, only some of which have been touched upon in these pages. The nondualism of value, valuer, and valued is based on a quality inherent in both value and the perception of value, that is, the unitive dimension, or intrinsic unity. The act of direct perception is nondualistic, and what it sees is nonduality. If direct perception is affective as well as cognitive, as some Spinoza scholars have suggested, then perhaps it can be assumed that this form of perception is more likely to be responsive to the ecological crisis; not only because such perception depends on a degree of freedom of mind, but also because it is more likely to hear the earth and its inhabitants crying. Perception that is merely conceptual (or academic) retains distance from what is seen: aloofness is not conducive towards action in the defence of nature, or at the expense of oneself, unless the observer stands aloof from the empirical self. Detachment from “the me” is indispensable to unitive perception. ƒ The nondualism of action and its consequences, with recourse to the doctrine of karma, and based on the application of physical laws to the moral sphere, also has potential application to the field of value ethics. The attention is shifted firmly onto the subject and away from the objects of value and the objective sphere of action:

397 hence a new field of enquiry opens up to value ethics and to ecophilosophy generally.

Dualistic, or mediated, perception may be natural to thinking beings, but it is also divisive, alienating, and destructive. According to various âtman doctrines, dualistic perception is inescapable for the empirical self, which exists in a framework of self and other, me and mine, inner and outer. But it is possible for the empirical self to become aware of its own limitations, and hence to transcend them to some extent. As Suzuki has explained, those who see the emptiness of the empirical self (that there is no “me”), those who see the emptiness of the empirical world (that it is impermanent), and those who have mind stilled, experience the “blessedness” of the unitive state, or freedom of mind (Suzuki 1907/1973, p.106).

Ecological consciousness is a term representing a progressive movement of ever widening identification with living beings and natural systems. Self-realisation represents a movement of ever deepening identification with the Self of all, the Ground of Being or Brahman. Naess has argued that the cultivation of ecological consciousness helps to counter the feeling that we must unselfishly give up our own interests in order to protect nature, which is an uncertain foundation for conservation. I believe that his instincts were sound but that alternative foundations for conservation are possible, including the original Self-realisation approach, and that of Yoga, in which the illusory nature of ego-pleasures is revealed. In that case also, we do not need to unselfishly give up pleasures or interests in order to protect nature; instead, those pleasures cease to please. I believe this nondualistic Yogic approach more closely coincides with Spinoza’s thinking, of which Naess was enamoured, than does the notion of an ecological self or ecological consciousness which were both alien to Spinoza.

Detractors seem to assume that all talk of unity entails the imposition of a false unity, but nondualistic metaphysical systems have in the main concerned themselves with the

398 perception or awareness of unity, not the imposition of unity. An understanding of this distinction would obviate many concerns about Deep Ecology as an essentialist, totalitarian philosophy. Alongside the Self-realisation doctrine already adopted by some Deep Ecology theorists, I have suggested adding to the resources of ecophilosophy other elements of nondualistic metaphysics; namely, the doctrine of karma, the doctrine of liberation, the notion of spiritual evolution embraced by Aurobindo, Radhakrishnan and Wilber, and the purusa/prakriti doctrine of Sânkhya metaphysics. I have also suggested that tenets concerning the structure of consciousness, the limitations of thought, and the constitution of the empirical self should give pause to thought for the project of discursive democracy. I maintain that attention, as conceived by Bohm, is indispensable to deliberative democracy and communicative rationality. Indeed, Bohm’s work on the nature of intelligence, partly conducted in concert with J. Krishnamurti, helps to round out the Deep Ecology approach, and also provides fresh insights into classical treatments of these subjects in the Yoga Sûtras and the Upanishads.

In conclusion, I have argued in this thesis that Deep Ecology as a philosophy remains undeveloped, hemmed in by a dualist framework and tied to a dualistic perspective. I have argued that this can be overcome by a deeper engagement with the metaphysics of nondualism. Finally, I have offered a framework within which to rethink ideas of value, moral considerability, and the nature of the empirical self, and to approach, from a new perspective, the problem of locating a foundational moral concept for environmental ethics.

399

Bibliography

Armstrong, A. Hilary. "Neo-Platonism." In Dictionary of The History of Ideas, ed. Philip P. Wiener, 3, 371-8. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1973.

Baladeva. The Sacred Books of the Vol. V - The Vedânta Sûtras of Bâdarâyana with the commentary of Baladeva. Allahabad: The Pânini Office, Bhuvaneswari Asrama, Bahadurganj, 1912.

Barbour, Ian G., ed. Western Man And Environmental Ethics. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1973.

Barry, John. "Deep ecology and the undermining of green politics." In Perspectives on the Environment: Research and Action for the 1990s, ed. J. Holder et al, 43-57. Aldershot: Avebury, 1993.

Barry, John. "The limits of the shallow and the deep: Green politics, philosophy, and praxis." Environmental Politics 3(3), no. Autumn (1994): 369-94.

Barry, John. Rethinking Green Politics. London and Thousand Oaks: SAGE Publications, 1999.

Beck, Ulrich. "World risk society as cosmopolitan society? Ecological questions in a framework of manufactured uncertainties." Theory, Culture & Society 13, no. 4 (1996): 1-32.

Bergson, Henri. Introduction To Metaphysics. New York: Philosophical Library, 1961.

Bernard, Walter. "Psychotherpeutic principles in Spinoza's Ethics." In Speculum Spinozanum 1677-1977, ed. Siegfried Hessing, 63-80. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1977.

Besant, Annie. The Ancient Wisdom. An Outline of Theosophical Teachings. Adyar, Madras: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1897/1969.

Besant, Annie. An Introduction to Yoga. Madras: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1908/1976.

Bhagavad Gîtâ. Annie Besant and Bhagavan Das translation. Adyar, Madras: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1905/1979.

400 Birch, Charles, and John B. Cobb Jr. The Liberation of Life. From the Cell to the Community. Cambridge, London, New York: Cambridge University Press, 1981.

Blavatsky, H.P. Isis Unveiled: A Master-Key to The Mysteries of Ancient and Modern Science and Theology. Vol. 1 - Science. 2 vols. California: Theosophical University Press, 1877/1972 a.

Blavatsky, H.P. Isis Unveiled: A Master-Key to The Mysteries of Ancient and Modern Science and Theology. Vol. 2 - Theology. 2 vols. California: Theosophical University Press, 1877/1972 b.

Blavatsky, H.P. . Los Angeles, California: The Theosophy Company, 1889/1987.

Bohm, David. "On insight and its significance, for science, education, and values." In Education and Values, ed. Douglas Sloan, 7-22. New York and London: Teachers College Press, 1980.

Bohm, David. Wholeness and the Implicate Order. 3rd ed. London and New York: Routledge, 1980/1997.

Bohm, David. "Time, the implicate order and pre-space." In Physics and the Ultimate Significance of Time, ed. David Ray Griffin, 177-208. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986 a.

Bohm, David. "Reply to comments of John Cobb and David Griffin." In Physics and the Ultimate Significance of Time, ed. David Ray Griffin, 172-6. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986 b.

Bohm, David. "A new theory of the relationship of mind and matter." Philosophical Psychology 3, no. 2 (1990): 271-86.

Bohm, David. "Science, spirituality, and the present world crisis." ReVision 15(4), no. Spring (1993): 147-52.

Bohm, David. On Dialogue. London and New York: Routledge, 1996.

Bohm, David, and F. David Peat. Science, Order, and Creativity. London, New York: Bantam, 1987.

Bohm, David, and Mark Edwards. Changing Consciousness: Exploring the Hidden Source of the Social, Political, and Environmental Crises Facing Our World. San Francisco: Harper San Francisco, 1991.

401

Bohm, David, and Basil Hiley. The undivided universe: An ontological interpretation of quantum theory. London and New York: Routledge, 1993.

Bowie, Andrew. Schelling and Modern European Philosophy. London: Routledge, 1993.

Bradford, George. "How deep is deep ecology? A challenge to radical environmentalism." Fifth Estate 22(3), no. Fall (1987): 3-30.

Bragg, Elizabeth Ann. "Towards ecological self: deep ecology meets constructionist self-theory." Journal of Environmental Psychology 16 (1996): 93-108.

Bruno, Giordano. Cause, Principle, and Unity. Five Dialogues by Giordano Bruno. Translated and with an introduction by Jack Lindsay. Westport, Connecticut: Greenwood Press, 1962/1976.

Burtt, E. A. "Intuition in Eastern and Western Philosophy." Philosophy East and West 2 (4), no. January (1953): 283-91.

Burtt, E. A. "A basic problem in the quest for understanding between East and West." Philosophy East and West 9 (1/2), no. Apr.-Jul. (1959): 84-6.

Burtt, E. A. In Search of Philosophic Understanding. New York and Toronto: New American Library, 1965.

Callicott, J. Baird. "Intrinsic value, quantum theory, and environmental ethics." Environmental Ethics 7, no. Fall (1985): 257-75.

Callicott, J. Baird. "The Metaphysical Implications of Ecology." Environmental Ethics 8, no. Winter (1986): 301-316.

Callicott, J. Baird. "On the intrinsic value of nonhuman species." In The Preservation Of Species, ed. Bryan G. Norton, 138-72. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1986 b.

Callicott, J. Baird. "The case against moral pluralism." In Environmental Ethics An Anthology, ed. Andrew Light and Holmes Rolston III, 203-19. Malden, Massachusetts and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Callicott, J. Baird, and Roger T. Ames. "Epilogue: on the relation of idea and action." In Nature in Asian Traditions of Thought: Essays in Environmental Philosophy, ed. J.

402 Baird Callicott and Roger T. Ames, 279-89. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1989.

Campbell, Joseph. The Masks of God: Oriental Mythology. USA: Penguin Books, 1962/1976.

Carson, Rachel. Silent Spring. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1962/1987.

Chapple, Christopher. "Karma and the path of purification." In Karma: Rhythmic Return to Harmony, ed. V. Hanson, R. Stewart, and S. Nicholson. Wheaton, Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1975/1993.

Chapple, Christopher. Karma and Creativity. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Cheney, Jim. "The neo-Stoicism of radical environmentalism." Environmental Ethics 11, no. Winter (1989): 293-25.

Chisholm, Anne. Philosophers of the Earth. Conversations with Ecologists. London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1972.

Clarke, C.J.S. "The nonlocality of mind." Journal of Consciousness Studies 2, no. 3 (1995): 231-40.

Combs, Allan. "The evolution of consciousness: A theory of historical and personal transformation." World Futures 38, no. 1-3 (1993): 43-62.

Combs, Allan, and Stanley Krippner. "Consciousness, evolution and spiritual growth." World Futures 53 (1999): 193-212.

Cook, Francis H. "The jewel net of Indra." In Nature in Asian Traditions of Thought: Essays in Environmental Philosophy, ed. J. Baird Callicott and Roger T. Ames, 213- 229. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1989.

Coomaraswamy, Ananda K. "Recollection, Indian and Platonic and On The One And Only Transmigrant." Supplement to the Journal of the American Oriental Society 3, no. April-June (1944): 1-43.

Coomaraswamy, Ananda. Coomaraswamy Selected Papers Vol 2: Metaphysics Edited by Roger Lipsey. Vol. 2 Bollingen Series. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1977.

403

Coyne, George. "God's chance creation." The Tablet, August 6, 2005

Creel, Austin B. "Contemporary philosophical treatments of karma and rebirth." In Karma And Rebirth: Post Classical Developments, ed. Ronald W. Neufeldt, 1-14. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Daly, Herman E. "Entropy, growth, and the political economy of scarcity." In Scarcity and Growth Reconsidered, ed. V. Kerry Smith, 67-94. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1979.

Das, Bhagavan. Mystic Experiences: Tales of Yoga and Vedanta from The Yogavasishtha (With notes by Dr Annie Besant). : The Indian Bookshop The Theosophical Society, 1927/1988.

Dasgupta, Surendranath. A History of Indian Philosophy Volume 1. Vol. 1. 4 vols. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1922/1975 a.

Dasgupta, Surendranath. Yoga Philosophy In Relation To Other Systems Of Indian Thought. Calcutta: University of Calcutta, 1930.

Deussen, Paul. The Elements of Metaphysics. London and New York: Macmillan and Co., 1894.

Devall, Bill, and George Sessions. Deep Ecology - Living As If Nature Mattered. Salt Lake City: Gibbs M. Smith, Inc., 1985.

Dobbs, B.J.T. The Foundations of Newton's Alchemy or The Hunting of the Greene Lyon. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1975/1983.

Dobbs, B.J.T. "Newton's Commentary on the Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus: Its Scientific and Theological Significance." In Hermeticism and the Renaissance: Intellectual History and the in Early Modern Europe, ed. Ingrid Merkel and Allen G. Debus, 182 -191. USA: Folger Books, 1988.

Dobson, Andrew. Green Political Thought. 2nd ed. London and New York: Routledge, 1990/1995.

Dryzek, John S. "Green reason: communicative ethics for the biosphere." Environmental Ethics 12, no. Fall (1990): 195-210.

404 Dryzek, John S., and James P. Lester. "Alternative views of the environmental problematic." In Environmental Politics and Policy: Theories and Evidence, ed. James P. Lester, 314-30. Durham: Press, 1989.

Dubos, René. "A theology of the earth." In Western Man And Environmental Ethics. Attitudes Toward Nature and Technology, ed. Ian G. Barbour. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1973.

Easlea, Brian. Witch Hunting, Magic and the New Philosophy: An Introduction to the Debates of the Scientific Revolution 1450-1750. New Jersey: Humanities Press, 1980.

Eckersley, Robyn. Environmentalism And Political Theory: Towards An Ecocentric Approach. London: UCL Press, 1992.

Eckersley, Robyn. Personal Communication. 2002. Accessed December 13 2002. e- mail.

Eder, Klaus. "The institutionalisation of environmentalism: Ecological discourse and the second transformation of the public sphere." In Risk, Environment and Modernity, ed. Scott Lash, Bronislaw Szerszynski, and Brian Wynne. London and California: SAGE Publications, 1996.

Feuerstein, Georg. The Shambhala Encyclopedia of Yoga. 1 ed. Boston & London: Shambhala, 2000.

Feuerstein, G., and J. Miller. A Reappraisal of Yoga: Essays in Indian Philosophy. London: Rider & Company, 1971.

Forman, Robert K.C. "Introduction: Mysticism, constructivism, and forgetting." In The Problem of Pure Consciousness: Mysticism and Philosophy, ed. Robert K. C. Forman, 3-49. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.

Forman, Robert K.C. "'Of capsules and carts': mysticism, language and the via negativa." Journal of Consciousness Studies 1(1), no. Summer (1994): 38-49.

Forman, Robert K.C. "What does mysticism have to teach us about consciousness?" Journal of Consciousness Studies 5, no. 2 (1998 a): 185-201.

Forman, Robert K. C. "Introduction: mystical consciousness, the innate capacity, and the perennial philosophy." In The Innate Capacity: Mysticism, Psychology, and Philosophy, ed. Robert K. C. Forman, 3-41. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998 b.

405 Fox, Warwick. "Deep ecology: a new philosophy of our time?" The Ecologist 14, no. 5- 6 (1984): 194-200.

Fox, Warwick. Approaching Deep Ecology: A Response to Richard Sylvan's Critique of Deep Ecology University of Tasmania Environmental Studies Occasional Paper 20. Tasmania: University of Tasmania, 1989.

Fox, Warwick. Toward A Transpersonal Ecology. Totnes, Devon: A Resurgence Book, 1990/1995.

Fox, Warwick. "Deep ecology and virtue ethics." Philosophy Now , no. April-May (2000): 24-6.

Fox, Warwick. Personal Communication. 2003 a. Accessed January 6 2003. e-mail.

Fox, Warwick. Personal Communication. 2003 c. Accessed January 31 2003. .

Gare, Arran. "Philosophy, civilization, and the global ecological crisis: the challenge of process metaphysics to scientific materialism." Philosophy Today 44 (3), no. Fall (2000): 283-94.

Geldard, Richard. Remembering Heraclitus. : Floris Books, 2000.

Glasser, Harold. "Naess's deep ecology approach and environmental policy." Inquiry 39, no. 2 (1996): 157-87.

Goswami, Amit. "Physics within nondual consciousness. (Critical essay)." Philosophy East and West 51(4), no. October (2001): 535(10).

Gottlieb, Roger S. "Dimensions of yoga." Tikkun 13(2), no. Mar/Apr (1998): 95.

Graf, Susan Johnston. W.B. Yeats Twentieth Century Magus. York Beach, Maine: Samuel Weiser, Inc., 2000.

Gregorios, Paulos Mar. "Does geography condition philosophy? On going beyond the Occidental-Oriental distinction." In Neoplatonism and Indian Philosophy, ed. Paulos Mar Gregorios, 13-30. Albany, New York: State University Of New York Press, 2002.

Grey, William. Obituary Richard Sylvan. 1996. Accessed July 2002. WWW. Available from http://www.cep.unt.edu/news/sylvan.html.

406 Grey, William. "A critique of deep green theory." In Beneath the Surface. Critical Essays in the Philosophy of Deep Ecology, ed. Eric Katz, Andrew Light, and David Rothenberg, 43-58. Cambridge and London: MIT Press, 2000.

Griffin, David Ray. "Bohm and Whitehead on wholeness, freedom, causality, and time." In Physics and the Ultimate Significance of Time, ed. David Ray Griffin, 127-53. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Griffin, David Ray, and Huston Smith. Primordial Truth and Postmodern Theology. Albany, New York: State University Of New York Press, 1989.

Grof, Stanislav. The Cosmic Game: Explorations in the Froniters of Human Consciousness. Melbourne: Hill of Content, 1998.

Guirand, Félix. New Larousse Encyclopedia of Mythology. Translated by Richard Aldington Delano Ames. London: Hamlyn, 1959/1986.

Hajer, Maarten A. "Ecological modernisation as cultural politics." In Risk, Environment And Modernity, ed. Scott Lash, Bronislaw Szerszynski, and Brian Wynne, 246-68. London and California: Sage Publications, 1996.

Halbfass, Wilhelm. "Karma, Apûrva, and "natural" causes: observations on the growth and limits of the theory of Samsâra." In Karma And Rebirth In Classical Indian Traditions, ed. Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, 268-302. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1980.

Hardin, Garrett. "The tragedy of the commons." Science 162, no. December 13 (1968): 1243-48.

Hargrove, Eugene C. "Foreword." In Nature in Asian Traditions of Thought: Essays in Environmental Philosophy, ed. J. Baird Callicott and Roger T. Ames, xiii-xxi. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1989a.

Hargrove, Eugene C. Foundations Of Environmental Ethics. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1989b.

Hartshorne, Charles, and William L. Reese. Philosophers Speak of God. Chicago and London: The University of Chicago Press, 1953/1963.

Heard, Gerald. "The future of mankind's religion." In Vedanta For The , ed. . London: Unwin Books, 1948/1975.

407 Hessing, Siegfried. "Prologue with Spinozana - parallels via East and West." In Speculum Spinozanum 1677-1977, ed. Siegfried Hessing, 1-62. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1977.

Honderich, Ted, ed. The Oxford Companion to Philosophy. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.

Huxley, Aldous. Those Barren Leaves. London: Chatto & Windus, 1925/1950.

Huxley, Aldous. The Perennial Philosophy. London: Chatto & Windus, 1947.

Isherwood, Christopher. The Wishing Tree. San Francisco: Harper & Row, 1987.

Iturbe, Mariano. "Karmayoga-Jñânayoga in Râmânuja or Active life-contemplative live in Aquinas. A meeting point between Indian and Christian thought." Acta philosophica 13, no. 1 (2004): 73-97.

Jacobsen, Knut A. "Bhagavadgita, Ecosophy T, and deep ecology." Inquiry 39, no. 2 (1996): 219-38.

James, William. The Principles of Psychology Great Books Of The Western World, ed. Robert Maynard Hutchins. Chicago and London: Encyclopaedia Britannica, Inc., 1891/1952.

Janik, Del Ivan. "Environmental consciousness in modern literature: four representative examples." In Ecological Consciousness: Essays from the Earthday X Colloquium. University of Denver, April 21-24, 1980, ed. Robert C. Schultz and J. Donald Hughes. Washington: University Press of America, 1981.

Kak, Subhash C. "The astronomical code of the Rigveda." Current Science 66(4), no. February 25 (1994): 323-6.

Kak, Subhash C. "Archaeoastronomy and literature." Current Science 73(7), no. October 10 (1997): 624-7.

Katz, Eric. "Against the inevitability of anthropocentrism." In Beneath the Surface. Critical Essays in the Philosophy of Deep Ecology, ed. Eric Katz, Andrew Light, and David Rothenberg, 17-42. Cambridge and London: MIT Press, 2000.

Katz, Steven T. "Language, epistemology and mysticism." In Mysticism and Philosophical Analysis, ed. Steven T. Katz, 22-74. London: Sheldon Press, 1978.

408 Khoruzhii, Sergei. "The idea of total-unity from Heraclitus to Losev." Russian Studies in Philosophy 35, no. 1 (Summer) (1996): 32-69.

Krishnamurti, J. Truth is a Pathless Land: Krishnamurti Foundation of America, 1929/2000.

Krishnamurti, J. Freedom from the Known, ed. Mary Lutyens. : Krishnamurti Foundation India, 1969/2004.

Krishnamurti, J. You Are the World. Harper & Row: New York and London, 1972.

Krishnamurti, J. Truth and Actuality. Chennai: Krishnamurti Foundation India, 1977/2000.

Krishnamurti, J. The Core of the Teaching. Brockwood Park, England: The Krishnamurti Foundation Trust Ltd., 1980.

Krishnamurti, J. The Awakening Of Intelligence. London: Victor Gollancz, 1986.

Krishnamurti, J. Meeting Life. London: Arkana, 1991.

Krishnamurti, J. Krishnamurti: Reflections on the Self. Edited by Raymond Martin. Chicago and LaSalle: Open Court, 1997.

Krishnamurti, J., and David Bohm. The Ending of Time. San Fransisco: Harper & Row, 1985.

Kuhn, Thomas S. The Essential Tension - Selected Studies in Scientific Tradition and Change. Chicago and London: Chicago University Press, 1977.

Lao Tzu. Tao Te Ching. Translated by James Legge Dover Thrift Editions, ed. Paul Negri. New York: Dover Publications, 1891/1997.

Larson, Gerald James. ""Conceptual Resources" in South Asia for "Environmental Ethics"." In Nature in Asian Traditions of Thought, ed. J. Baird Callicott and Roger T. Ames. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1989.

Laszlo, Ervin. The Systems View of the World. New York: George Braziller, 1972.

Laszlo, Ervin. The Inner Limits of Mankind - Heretical Reflections on Today's Values, Culture, and Politics Systems Science And World Order Library, ed. Ervin Laszlo. Oxford and New York: Pergamon Press, 1978.

409 Leclerc, Ivor. The Nature of Physical Existence. London and New York: Allen & Unwin and Humanities Press, 1972.

Lee, Keekok. "The source and locus of intrinsic value: A reexamination." In Environmental Ethics An Anthology, ed. Andrew Light and Holmes Rolston III, 154-62. Malden, Massachusetts and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Leopold, Aldo. "Conservation as a moral issue." In Ethics and the Environment, ed. Donald Scherer and Thomas Attig, 9-12. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1983.

Light, Andrew. "Callicott and Naess on pluralism." Inquiry 39, no. 2 (1996): 273-94.

Lipner, J. J. "The world as God's "body": In pursuit of dialogue with Râmânuja." Religious Studies 20 (1984): 145-61.

Loemker, Leroy E. "Perennial philosophy." In Dictionary of The History of Ideas, ed. Philip P. Wiener, 3, 457-63. New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1973.

Lorand, Ruth. "Bergson's concept of order." Journal of the History of Philosophy 30(4), no. October (1992): 279-595.

Lovejoy, Arthur O. "The Obsolescence of the Eternal." The Philosophical Review 18, no. 5 (1909): 479-502.

Lovejoy, Arthur O. "The practical tendencies of Bergsonianism 1." International Journal of Ethics 23 (3), no. April (1913): 253-75.

Lovejoy, Arthur O. The Reason the Understanding and Time. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins Press, 1961.

Loy, David. Nonduality: A Study in Comparative Philosophy. New Haven and London: Press, 1988.

Mackinnon, Flora Isabel. Philosophical Writings Of Henry More The Wellesley Semi- Centennial Series. New York and London: Oxford University Press, 1925.

Macy, Joanna. "The greening of the self." In Gaia. A Harvest of Essays in Buddhism and Ecology, ed. Allan Hunt Badiner, 53-63. Berkeley, California: Parallax Press, 1990.

Maharaj, Sri Nisargadatta. - Part One. Bombay: Chetana, 1973/1981.

410 Mahoney, Timothy A. "Platonic Ecology: a response to Plumwood's critique of Plato." Ethics and the Environment 2, no. 1 (1997): 25-41.

Manne, Robert, and David Corlett. "The quality of our mercy." The Sydney Morning Herald, March 27-28 2004, 6-7.

Martin, Julian. "Natural Philosophy and its public concerns." In Science, culture and popular belief in Renaissance Europe, ed. S. Pumfrey, P.L. Rossi, and M. Slawinski, 100-17. Manchester and New York: Manchester University Press, 1991.

Mathews, Freya. The Ecological Self. London: Routledge, 1994.

Mathews, Freya. "Conservation and Self-Realization: A Deep Ecology Perspective." In The Deep Ecology Movement: An Introductory Anthology, ed. Alan Drengson and Yuichi Inoue, 124-35. Berkeley, California: North Atlantic Books, 1995a.

Mathews, Freya. "Value in nature and meaning in life." In Environmental Ethics, ed. Robert Elliot, 142-54. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1995b.

Mathews, Freya. For Love Of Matter: A Contemporary Panpsychism. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 2003a.

Mathews, Freya. "Invitation To Ecocosmology." A paper delivered at the 3rd International Philosophy, Science & Theology Festival, Grafton, New South Wales, Australia, 24 June 2003b.

Maughan, Esther, and Peter Reason. "A cooperative inquiry in deep ecology." ReVision 23(4), no. Spring (2001): 18.

McIntyre, J. Lewis. Giordano Bruno. London and New York: Macmillian, 1903.

Mead, G.R.S. Select Works Of Plotinus Thomas Taylor's Translation. Edited, With Preface and Bibliography By G.R.S. Mead. London: G. Bell And Sons, Ltd., 1895/1929.

Meadows, Donella. "The Limits To Growth Revisited." In The Cassandra Conference: Resources and the Human Predicament, ed. Paul Ehrlich and John P. Holdren. USA: Texas A&M University Press, 1988.

Meeker, Joseph W. "Toward a new natural philosophy." In Ecological Consciousness: Essays from the Earthday X Colloquium. University of Denver, April 21-24, 1980, ed. Robert C. Schultz and J. Donald Hughes. Washington: University Press of America, 1981.

411

Merchant, Carolyn. The Death of Nature: Women, Ecology and the Scientific Revolution. USA: Harper, 1989.

Minor, Robert N. "In defense of karma and rebirth: evolutionary karma." In Karma And Rebirth: Post Classical Developments, ed. Ronald W. Neufeldt, 15-40. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Moncrief, Lewis W. "The cultural basis of our environmental crisis." In Western Man And Environmental Ethics. Attitudes Toward Nature and Technology, ed. Ian G. Barbour, 31-42. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1973.

Müller, F. Max. India What Can it Teach Us? New Delhi: Rupa & Co, 1883/2002.

Murdy, W.H. "Anthropocentrism: A modern version." In Ethics and the Environment, ed. Donald Scherer and Thomas Attig. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice-Hall, 1983.

Murphy, Susan. "From ideological to cosmological radicalism." Ecopolitics Thought & Action 1(2), no. October (2001): 35-45.

Naess, Arne. "The shallow and the deep, long-range ecology movement. A Summary." Inquiry 16 (1973): 95-100.

Naess, Arne. Gandhi and Group Conflict: An Exploration of Satyagraha. Oslo, Norway: Universitetsforlaget, 1974.

Naess, Arne. "Spinoza and ecology." In Speculum Spinozanum 1677-1977, ed. Siegfried Hessing, 418-25. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1977.

Naess, Arne. "Through Spinoza to Buddhism or through Mahayana Buddhism to Spinoza." In Spinoza's Philosophy of Man. Proceedings of the Scandinavian Spinoza Symposium 1977, ed. Jon Wetlesen, 136-58. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1978.

Naess, Arne. "A defence of the deep ecology movement." Environmental Ethics 6, no. 3 (1984): 265-70.

Naess, Arne. "Identification as a source of deep ecological attitudes." In Deep Ecology, ed. Michael Tobias, 256-70. San Diego, California: Avant Books, 1985a.

Naess, Arne. "The world of concrete contents." Inquiry 28 (1985b): 417-28.

412 Naess, Arne. Ecology, Community and Lifestyle: Outline of An Ecosophy. Translated by David Rothenberg. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1989.

Naess, Arne. "Beautiful action: its function in the ecological crisis." Environmental Values 2, no. 1 (1993): 67-71.

Naess, Arne. "The deep ecological movement: some philosophical aspects." In Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century, ed. George Sessions, 64-84. Boston and London: Shambhala, 1995 a.

Naess, Arne. "Self-Realization: An ecological approach to being in the world." In Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century, ed. George Sessions, 225-39. Boston and London: Shambhala, 1995 b.

Naess, Arne. "The deep ecology "eight points" revisited." In Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century, ed. George Sessions, 213-21. Boston and London: Shambhala, 1995 c.

Naess, Arne. "Deep ecology in the line of fire." In Rethinking Deep Ecology. Proceedings from a seminar at SUM, University of Oslo, 5 September 1995, ed. Nina Witoszek, 107-15. Oslo, Norway: Centre for Development and the Environment University of Oslo, 1996.

Nandy, Ashis, and Shiv Visvanathan. "Modern medicine and its non-modern critics: A study in discourse." In Dominating Knowledge: Development, Culture, and Resistance, ed. Frederique Apffel Marglin and Stephen A. Marglin, 145-84. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1990.

Neufeldt, Ronald. "In search of utopia: karma and rebirth in the theosophical movement." In Karma And Rebirth: Post Classical Developments, ed. Ronald W. Neufeldt, 233-55. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Newton, Isaac. Unpublished Scientific Papers of Isaac Newton. Translated by A. Rupert Hall and Marie Boas Hall. London: Cambridge University Press, 1962.

O'Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. Hindu Myths - A Sourcebook Translated from the Sanskrit. With an introduction by Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, ed. Betty Radice. Middlesex and New York: Penguin, 1975/1984.

O'Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. "Introduction." In Karma And Rebirth In Classical Indian Traditions, ed. Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, ix-xxv. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1980a.

413 O'Flaherty, Wendy Doniger. "Karma and rebirth in the Vedas and ." In Karma And Rebirth In Classical Indian Traditions, ed. Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, 3-37. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1980b.

Ophuls, William. "Political values for an age of scarcity: Buddhist politics." The American Theosophist 69(5), no. May (1981): 140-7.

Pagel, Walter. Religion and Neoplatonism in Renaissance Medicine Edited by Marianne Winder. London: Variorum Reprints, 1985.

Panikkar, Raimundo. The Vedic Experience Mantramañjarî. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1977/2001.

Peat, F. David. Infinite Potential: The Life and Times of David Bohm. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1997.

Pflueger, Lloyd W. "Discriminating the innate capacity: salvation mysticism of classical -Yoga." In The Innate Capacity: Mysticism, Psychology, and Philosophy, ed. Robert K. C. Forman, 45-81. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998.

Plato. The Republic. Translated With An Introduction By Desmond Lee. Second ed. Penguin Classics. London and New York: Penguin, 1955/1987.

Plato. Phaedrus and Letters Seven and Eight. London and New York: Penguin, 1973.

Plato. The Laws. Translated With An Introduction by Trevor J. Saunders, ed. Betty Radice. London and New York: Penguin, 1975.

Plotinus. Select Works Of Plotinus. Thomas Taylor's Translation. Edited, With Preface And Bibliography By G.R.S. Mead. London: G. Bell and Sons, Ltd., 1895/1929.

Plumwood, Val. Feminism And The Mastery Of Nature. London and New York: Routledge, 1993.

Plumwood, Val. "Nature, self, and gender: feminism, environmental philosophy, and the critique of rationalism." In Environmental Ethics, ed. Robert Elliot, 155-64. Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1995.

Plumwood, Val. "Prospecting for ecological gold amongst the Platonic Forms: a response to Timothy Mahoney." Ethics and the Environment 2, no. 2 (1997): 149-68.

Plumwood, Val. "Deep ecology, deep pockets, and deep problems: a feminist ecosocialist analysis." In Beneath the Surface. Critical Essays in the Philosophy of

414 Deep Ecology, ed. Eric Katz, Andrew Light, and David Rothenberg, 59-84. Cambridge and London: MIT Press, 2000.

Plumwood, Val. Environmental Culture: The ecological crisis of reason. London and New York: Routledge, 2002.

Popper, Karl R. The Open Society And Its Enemies Volume 1 - The Spell Of Plato. second ed. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1945/1952.

Popper, Karl R. The Open Society And Its Enemies Vol 2 - The High Tide Of Prophecy: Hegel, Marx, And The Aftermath. Fifth ed. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1945/1984.

Popper, Karl R. Quantum Theory And The In Physics. London and Melbourne: Hutchinson, 1982.

Potter, Karl H. "The karma theory and its interpretation in some Indian philosophical systems." In Karma And Rebirth In Classical Indian Traditions, ed. Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty, 241-67. Berkeley, Los Angeles and London: University of California Press, 1980.

Potter, Karl H. "Critical response." In Karma And Rebirth: Post Classical Developments, ed. Ronald W. Neufeldt, 109-20. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1986.

Quinn Jr., William W. The Only Tradition. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1997.

Radhakrishnan, S. "The ethics of the Bhagavadgita and Kant." International Journal of Ethics 21 (4), no. July (1911): 465-75.

Radhakrishnan, S. "The ethics of the Vedanta." Inernational Journal of Ethics 24 (2), no. January (1914 a): 168-83.

Radhakrishnan, S. "The Vedanta philosophy and the Doctrine of ." International Journal of Ethics 24 (4), no. July (1914 b): 431-51.

Radhakrishnan, S. And Western Thought. London: Oxford University Press, 1939.

Radhakrishnan, S. The Principal Upanisads. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1953/1990.

415 Radhakrishnan, Sarvepalli, and Charles A. Moore. A Source Book In Indian Philosophy. Princeton, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1957.

Rainforest Information Centre. Project: Papua New Guinea. Rainforest Information Centre, 27 December 2001. Accessed 17 March 2004. www. Available from http://www.rainforestinfo.org/au/projects/papuanew.htm.

Rainforest Information Centre. Project: Ecuador. Rainforest Information Centre, 17 November 2002. Accessed 17 March 2004. www. Available from www.rainforestinfo.org/au/projects/ecuhist.htm.

Rainforest Information Centre. Project: India. Rainforest Information Centre, no date. Accessed 17 March 2004. www. Available from http://www.rainforestinfo.org/au/projects/ecuhist.htm.

Ramana Maharshi. Day By Day With Bhagavan. From A Diary of A. Devaraja Mudaliar. Tiruvanamalai, South India: Sri Ramanasramam, 1968/77.

Ranade, R.D. A Constructive Survey of Upanishadic Philosophy. Bombay: Bharatiya Bhavan, 1926/1986.

Ravindra, Ravi. Yoga And The Teaching Of Krishna: Essays On The Indian Spiritual Traditions. Chennai, India: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1998.

Ravindra, Ravi. Science and the Sacred. Adyar, India and Wheaton, USA: The Theosophical Publishing House, 2000.

Reese, W.L. Dictionary of Philosophy And Religion - Eastern and Western Thought. New Jersey: Humanities Press, 1980.

Rescher, Nicholas. Process Metaphysics: An Introduction to Process Philosophy. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1996.

Rig Veda. The Rig Veda An Anthology. One Hundred And Eight Hymns, Selected, Translated and Annotated by Wendy Doniger O'Flaherty Penguin Classics. Middlesex, England and New York: Penguin Books, 1981.

Rigby, Kate. Personal Communication. 2002. Accessed July 19 2002. e-mail.

Rolston III, Holmes. "Is there an ecological ethic?" In Ethics and the Environment, ed. Donald Scherer and Thomas Attig, 41-54. Englewood Cliffs, New Jersey: Prentice- Hall, 1983.

416 Rolston III, Holmes. "Can the East help the West to value nature?" Philosophy East and West 37 (2), no. April (1987): 172-190.

Rolston III, Holmes. "Values in nature and the nature of value." In Environmental Ethics An Anthology, ed. Andrew Light and Holmes Rolston III, 142-53. Malden, Massachusetts and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Rothenberg, David. Is It Painful To Think? Conversations with Arne Naess. St. Leonards, Australia: Allen & Unwin, 1993.

Schiff, Michel. The Memory Of Water: Homoeopathy And The Battle Of Ideas In The New Science. London: Thorsons, 1994.

Schmitt, Charles B. "Perennial philosophy from Agostino Steuco to Leibniz." Journal of the History of Ideas 24, no. 4 (1966): 505-32.

Schultz, Robert C., and J. Donald Hughes. "Introduction." In Ecological Consciousness: Essays from the Earthday X Colloquium. University of Denver, April 21-24, 1980, ed. Robert C. Schultz and J. Donald Hughes. Washington: University Press of Maerica, 1981.

Schweitzer, Albert. Goethe Four Studies by Albert Schweitzer. Translated and with an introduction by Charles R. Joy. Boston: The Beacon Press, 1949.

Schweizer, Paul. "Mind/consciouness dualism in Sânkhya-Yoga philosophy." Philosophy and Phenomenological Research 53 (4), no. December (1993): 845-59.

Seed, John. "Anthropocentrism." In Deep Ecology: Living As If Nature Mattered, ed. Bill Devall and George Sessions. Salt Lake City: Gibbs M. Smith, Inc., 1985.

Sessions, George. "Anthropocentrism and the environmental crisis." Humboldt Journal of Social Relations 2 (1974): 71-81.

Sessions, George. "Shallow and deep ecology. A review of the philosophical literature." In Ecological Consciousness: Essays from the Earthday X Colloquium. University of Denver, April 21-24, 1980, ed. Robert C. Schultz and J. Donald Hughes, 391-462. Washington: University Press of America, 1981.

Sessions, George. "Ecological consciousness and paradigm change." In Deep Ecology, ed. Michael Tobias, 28-44. California: Avant Books, 1984/1988.

417 Sessions, George. "Western process metaphysics (Heraclitus, Whitehead, and Spinoza)." In Deep Ecology: Living As If Nature Mattered, ed. Bill Devall and George Sessions. Salt Lake City: Gibbs M. Smith, Inc., 1985.

Sessions, George. "Deep ecology as worldview." In Worldviews and Ecology. Religion, Philosophy, and the Environment, ed. Mary Evelyn Tucker and John A. Grim, 207-27. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994.

Sessions, George. Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century. Boston and London: Shambhala, 1995.

Sessions, George. "Ecocentrism and the anthropocentric detour." In Deep Ecology for the Twenty-First Century, ed. George Sessions, 156-83. Boston and London: Shambhala, 1995 a.

Sessions, George. "Arne Naess and the Union of Theory and Practice." In The Deep Ecology Movement: An Introductory Anthology, ed. Alan Drengson and Yuichi Inoue, 54-63. Berkeley, California: North Atlantic Books, 1995 c.

Sessions, George. "Arne Naess's conception of being a philosopher." Trumpeter 13, no. 3 (1996).

Singer, Dorothea Waley. Giordano Bruno His Life and Thought. With Annotated Translation of HIs Work On The Infinite Universe and Worlds. New York: Greenwood Press, 1968.

Singer, Peter. "Not for humans only: The place of nonhumans in environmental issues." In Environmental Ethics An Anthology, ed. Andrew Light and Holmes Rolston III, 55- 64. Malden, Massachusetts and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Sivananda, Swami. Essence of Principal Upanishads. Tehri-Garhwal, U.P.: The , 1997.

Spinoza, Benedict de. Ethics. London: Penguin, 1996.

Spretnak, Charlene. "Critical and constructive contributions of ecofeminism." In Worldviews and Ecology. Religion, Philosophy, and the Environment, ed. Mary Evelyn Tucker and John A. Grim. Maryknoll, New York: Orbis Books, 1994.

Spretnak, Charlene. "Radical nonduality in ecofeminist philosophy." In Ecofeminism: Women, Culture, Nature, ed. Karren J. Warren, 425-36. Bloomington, Indiana: Indiana University Press, 1997.

418 Sri Ram, N. "Why Theosophy Is Left Undefined." The Theosophist 86, no.1 (October 1964).

Sri Samkaracharya. Viveka-Cudamani or Crest-Jewel of Discrimination Translation by Mohini M. Chatterji. Adyar, Madras: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1973.

Stone, Christopher D. "Moral pluralism and the course of environmental ethics." In Environmental Ethics An Anthology, ed. Andrew Light and Holmes Rolston III, 193- 202. Malden, Massachusetts and Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2003.

Suzuki, Daisetz Teitaro. Outlines of Mahayana Buddhism. New York: Schocken Books, 1907/1973.

Suzuki, Daisetz Teitaro. The Lankavatara . London & Hensley: Routledge & Kegan Paul Ltd., 1932/1978.

Swami Venkatesananda. The Concise Yoga Vâsistha. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 1984.

Sylvan, Richard. A Critique Of Deep Ecology. Discussion Papers in Environmental Philosophy Number 12. Canberra: Departments of Philosophy Australian National University, 1985.

Sylvan, Richard. A Critique of (Wild) Western Deep Ecology: a response to Warwick Fox's Response to an earlier Critique. Canberra: Typescript, 1986.

Sylvan, Richard. "Is there a need for a new, an environmental, ethic?" In Environmental Philosophy From Animal Rights to Radical Ecology, ed. Michael E. Zimmerman, 17- 25. New Jersey: Prentice Hall, 1998.

Szerszynski, Bronislaw. "On knowing what to do: environmentalism and the modern problematic." In Risk, Environment And Modernity, ed. Scott Lash, Bronislaw Szerszynski, and Brian Wynne, 104-37. London and Thousand Oaks: Sage Publications, 1996.

Taimni, I.K. The Science of Yoga. Adyar, Chennai: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1961/1999.

Taimni, I.K. The Ultimate Reality and Realization. Adyar, Madras: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1976/1985.

Tanesini, Alessandra. An Introduction to Feminist . Oxford: Blackwell, 1999.

419

Taylor, Bron. "Deep ecology and its : a critique." In Beneath the Surface. Critical Essays in the Philosophy of Deep Ecology, ed. Eric Katz, Andrew Light, and David Rothenberg, 269-99. Cambridge and London: MIT Press, 2000.

Thomas, Keith. Man And The Natural World. Changing Attitudes In England 1500- 1800. London: Penguin, 1984.

Unattributed. Advaita Bodha Deepika. Tiruvannamalai, South India: Sri Ramanasramam, 1979.

Urban, Wilbur Marshall. The Intelligible World: Metaphysics and Value. London and New York: Allen & Unwin and Macmillan, 1929.

Urban, Wilbur Marshall. Language and Reality. London: George Allen & Unwin, 1939/1961. van Wyck, Peter C. Primitives In The Wilderness. Deep Ecology and the Missing Human Subject. Albany, New York: State University Of New York Press, 1997.

Vogel, Lawrence. "Does environmental ethics need a metaphysical grounding?" Hastings Center Report 25, no. 7 (1995): 30-39.

Weiming, Tu. "Beyond the Enlightenment mentality: a Confucian perspective on ethics, migration, and global stewardship." International Migration Review 30 (Spring), no. 1 (1996): 58-75.

Weiming, Tu. "Beyond the Enlightenment mentality." In Confucianism and Ecology: The Interrelation of Heaven, Earth, and Humans, ed. Mary Evelyn Tucker and John Berthrong, 3-21. Cambridge, Massachusetts: Harvard University Press, 1998.

Werner, Karel. "Science of Yoga - Review." Philosophy East and West 21 (1), no. Jan. (1971): 96-7.

Westfall, Richard S. "Newton and the Hermetic Tradition." In Science, Medicine and Society in the Renaissance: Essays to honor Walter Pagel. Volume Two, ed. Allen G. Debus. London: Heinemann, 1972.

Wetlesen, Jon. "Body awareness as a gateway to eternity: a note on the mysticism of Spinoza and its affinity to Buddhist meditation." In Speculum Spinozanum 1677-1977, ed. Siegfried Hessing, 479-94. London: Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1977.

420 Wetlesen, J. "Freedom as contemplation or action? A reply to Arne Naess." In Spinoza's Philosophy of Man. Proceedings of the Scandinavian Spinoza Symposium 1977, ed. Jon Wetlesen, 204-9. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1978.

Wetlesen, Jon. The Sage And The Way. Spinoza's Ethics Of Freedom Philosophia Spinozae Perennis: Spinoza's Philosophy and Its Relevance, ed. H.G. Hubbeling. Assen, The Netherlands: Van Gorcum, 1979.

Whicher, Ian. The Integrity of the Yoga Darsana. A Reconsideration of Classical Yoga SUNY Series in Religious Studies, ed. Harold Coward. Albany, New York: State University Of New York Press, 1998.

White Jr., Lyn. "The historical roots of our ecologic crisis." In Western Man And Environmental Ethics. Attitudes Toward Nature and Technology, ed. Ian G. Barbour, 18-30. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1973a.

White Jr., Lynn White. "Continuing the conversation." In Western Man And Environmental Ethics. Attitudes Toward Nature and Technology, ed. Ian G. Barbour, 55-64. Reading, Massachusetts: Addison-Wesley, 1973b.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Science and the Modern World. London: Free Association Books, 1926/1985.

Whitehead, Alfred North. Modes Of Thought. New York: Macmillan, 1938.

Wienpahl, Paul. "Spinoza and mysticism." In Spinoza's Philosophy of Man. Proceedings of the Scandinavian Spinoza Symposium 1977, ed. Jon Wetlesen, 211-24. Oslo: Universitetsforlaget, 1978.

Wienpahl, Paul. The Radical Spinoza. New York: New York University Press, 1979.

Wilber, Ken. The Atman Project: A Transpersonal View of Human Development. Wheaton, Illinois: The Theosophical Publishing House, 1980.

Wilber, Ken. The Marriage of Sense and Soul: Integrating Science and Religion. Melbourne: Hill of Content, 1998.

Wilder, Alexander. New Platonism and Alchemy: A Sketch of the Doctrines and Principal Teachers of the Eclectic or Alexandrian School; also An Outline of the Interior Doctrines of the Alchemists of the Middle Ages. : Wizards Bookshelf, 1869/1975.

Wittgenstein, Ludwig. Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus. Translated by D. F. Pears

421 B. F. McGuinness Routledge Classics. London and New York: Routledge, 1921/2001.

Woodhouse, Mark B. "On the possibility of pure consciousness." In The Problem of Pure Consciousness: Mysticism and Philosophy, ed. Robert K. C. Forman, 254-68. New York and Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1990.

Yates, Frances A. Giordano Bruno And The Hermetic Tradition. London: Routledge and Kegan Paul, 1964.

Yutang, Lin. The Wisdom Of India. London: Michael Joseph, 1944/1954.

Zaehner, R.C., ed. Hindu Scriptures. London: Everyman's Library, 1938/1972.

Zaehner, R. C. Mysticism Sacred And Profane: An Inquiry into some Varieties of Praeternatural Experience. London, Oxford and New York: Oxford University Press, 1957/1975.

Zimmerman, Michael. "Heidegger and Heraclitus on spiritual practice." Philosophy Today 28(2/4), no. Summer (1983): 87-103.

Zimmerman, Michael E. "Quantum Theory, Intrinsic Value, and Panentheism." Environmental Ethics 10, no. Spring (1988): 3-30.

Zimmerman, Michael E. "Ken Wilber's critique of ecological spirituality." In Deep Ecology and World Religions. New Essays on Sacred Grounds, ed. David Landis Barnhill and Roger S. Gottlieb, 243-69. Albany, New York: State University of New York Press, 2001.

Zimmerman, Michael E. Contesting Earth's Future: radical ecology and postmodernity. Berkeley, California: University of California Press, 1994.

422