IM: It was very improvised: a roll of duct tape on a string
that I held in my hand. I tried to hang it off a switched-off
ceiling fan, but the fan started swinging as well, so this
turned into a rather complicated double pendulum...
LAE: You had us count how long it took to do 10
swings – and then halved the string and asked them
to predict the period. And then you predicted it
(accurately, of course). And they were impressed; like,
audible gasps of amazement. If I had to teach it over
again, I might start with the pendulum, and with that
kind of predictive power. Not because the prediction
is the “thing” I’m most interested in, but because it
suggests that our models and ideas are in conversation
with data. It orients people to a particular kind of
game we’re playing and what it buys you. If I could
characterise the biggest difference between teaching
the monks and teaching undergraduates in America, it
is that the monks didn’t feel compelled to agree with
me. Every idea we offered was considered food for
thought. So, for example, when I noted that warm air
is simply air that has faster moving particles, one of the
monks politely rejected this idea: “Madam, in Tibet
when it is windy it is colder.” I have taught kinetic
theory of gases dozens of times, and no one has ever
mentioned this. Ditto for the forms of energy.
IM: I think the most important part of this particular
rejoinder is the implicit acceptance of the paradigm of
physics as an empirical science. The objection does not come
from Buddhist/Aristotelian reasoning from first principles,
which was the initial approach of the monks, but from an
apparent disagreement between theory and empirical
observations. So, while it shows clever analysis on the part
of this particular student, it also shows that we succeeded!
LAE: In our initial dive into forms of energy we had
some typical ideas like “light energy” and “heat
Q: You have a
cup of water
and pour half
of it out. Then
you pour out
half of what’s
left. And
again. Can you
keep doing
this forever?
Is there a
smallest piece
of water?energy” but the monks added “compassion energy” to
that list. And we told them that, to a physicist, there is
no unique form of energy related to compassion. I will
admit to feeling like a caricature of the overly rational
scientist as we told them this.IM: They seemed initially unimpressed, but in a later
discussion one monk said to another something like,
“You are thinking like a Buddhist, but we should be
thinking about this as scientists” – so the general message
of adopting a different viewing angle seemedtoresonate.LAE: It’s tempting to hear this story and decide that
“compassion energy” is a uniquely Buddhist notion
and represents a cultural barrier that makes it hard to
teach physics – but I suspect that this idea is actually
pretty common. My undergraduate students might
not refer to compassion energy, but I would not be
surprised if they maintain narratives of cause and
effect that are inconsistent with physics, and closer to
ideas that the monks hold in terms of, say, our thoughts
as having a particular kind of physical agency.IM: Though our Buddhist students’ point that
compassion energy and thought energy were more
important than mere physical forms of energy may have
been more uniquely Buddhist...LAE: It’s like you never lived in California! I maintain
that even this point is not uniquely Buddhist (c.f.,Star
Wars).
There is a style of Buddhist debate the monks
engage in (usually in pairs), with a “defender” and
“challenger”. The challenger, standing, poses a series
of questions that the defender, sitting, can agree or
disagree with. This took place in the courtyard our
first night there (it does not happen every night but
is common) and we got to watch. It all takes place inEast meets West on a
whiteboard: Buddhist ideas
of energy get a sad face from
empirical science.India
Gaden MonasteryMumbaiNew Delhi68 – COSMOS Issue 86
PHYSICS