- seCtIon sIx: seLF AnD otHeR
We began this chapter with the Buddha as an example of a person who claimed
that such transformation is possible. Since then, many secular people have claimed
the same thing. Many people describe the change to their consciousness as some-
thing like waking up. Does their consciousness really change, and if so, can we find
out what kind of change is possible, and what its consequences may be?
We began this book with the warning that learning about consciousness will change
your life. Here we restate that warning as a question, and try to start answering it.
We will talk quite a lot about Buddhism, because it is one of the contexts where
spiritual and scientific learning have come closest to one another. But neither of
us is a Buddhist, and if you are not, neither of us wants you to become one. We
do not equate spirituality with religion, but we accept that they have long been
intertwined. We are interested in the mind, and in what personal practice can and
cannot change.Once Zhuang Zhou dreamt he was a butterfly, a butterfly flitting
gaily. He knew nothing of Zhou. Suddenly, he awoke, and all at once
he was Zhou. But he didn’t know whether Zhou had dreamt he was
a butterfly or a butterfly was dreaming he was Zhou. Surely there is
a difference between Zhou and a butterfly – this is what we call the
transformation of things!(‘The butterfly dream’, third century BC, translated by Robert Eno
(2010/2016), p. 23, Zhuangzi: The Inner Chapters; see also
Thompson, 2014, pp. 198–202, for reflections on this parable)BUDDHISM IN SCIENCE
Science and religion are often opposed, not least because most religions rely on
unchanging sacred books and teachings, while science constantly updates itself,
seeking to understand the world by interrogating it with experiments. Yet Bud-
dhism has found a place within psychology in a way no other religious teachings
have. There have been many books and conferences on East–West psychology
from the 1980s onwards, and the vast majority of contributions have dealt with
Buddhism rather than other traditions (Claxton, 1986b; Crook and Fontana,
1990; Lama et al., 1991; Pickering, 1997; Watson et al., 1999; Segal, 2003; Hanson
and Mendius, 2009). In 1987 the current Dalai Lama, head of the Gelug sect of
Tibetan Buddhism, began a series of dialogues with Western scientists, and in
2005, despite some protests that this was an inappropriate mixing of science and
religion, was invited to speak at the annual Society for Neuroscience conference.
He has since continued trying to build bridges between Buddhism and science.
These efforts have resulted in projects like the Atlas of Emotions compiled by psy-
chologist Paul Ekman and social science and public health researcher Eve Ekman
in collaboration with the Dalai Lama, intended as a tool to help people choose, if
not what emotions to feel, at least how to respond to those we do feel.
There are many possible reasons for this dialogue. Unlike Christianity, Judaism,
and Islam, Buddhism has no god, no supreme creator, and no notion of an inde-
structible human soul. In his book Waking Up, American neuroscientist Sam Harris