Interdependence in Buddhism
In order to understand
Buddhist cosmology, we have to comprehend one of the key concepts of Buddhism,
that of interdependence. One of the
aspects of that interdependence is the relationship between humanitys consciousness
and the reality we perceive around us. According to Buddhism, all the
proprieties that we attribute to the phenomenal world are not necessarily
intrinsic to the object itself, but are conceived by our mind and filtered
through our perceptions. Thus the same
reality may appear differently to different intelligences. Objects are thus
devoid of intrinsic and autonomous properties and do not possess solidity and
permanence. That is the profound
meaning of vacuity. It must be
emphasized that vacuity in Buddhism is not nothingness as the word has
sometimes been misunderstood - Buddhism has at times been accused totally
wrongly of nihilism. Vacuity is the
absence of independence and autonomy of things. Because of interdependence,
there is the potential and capacity for phenomenon to vary in an infinite
number of ways, to develop in infinite directions. The only real nature of phenomena is thus their
interdependence. Vacuity is the
ultimate nature of things because phenomena are devoid of an existence that is
permanent and independent of the observer.
In Buddhism, there are thus 2
distinct levels of reality, that of conventional reality, which we are all
familiar with in our daily lives, and that of ultimate reality, which has the
quality of vacuity. Conventional
reality concerns the transformation and change of things in the phenomenal
world. These changes are governed by
causal laws that are similar to the physical laws discovered by science in
Nature. In that sense, the Buddhist
view of conventional reality is very much like that of a scientist, with the
difference being that, in addition to the physical laws, Buddhism introduces
the laws of karma that say that the consequences of our acts, be they positive
or negative, will lead unavoidably to our future happiness or suffering. But conventional reality is mere appearance.
On a deeper level, phenomena do not have an objective existence. Using poetic
language, Buddha often compared reality to mirages, magic illusions or dreams.
This interdependence between
the nature of reality and the mind of observer is not totally foreign to the
scientist himself although we usually think of science as being totally
objective. The information that nature sends us is inevitably altered by the
instruments used for observation and analysis, be it a telescope, a bubble
chamber or a computer, and by the brains of the observers who interpret
it. Reality is filtered through a
nightmarish web of electronic circuits; it is manipulated, digitized, and reconstituted
by powerful computers and complex mathematical treatments.
In 1609, when Galileo first
pointed a telescope toward the sky, he had, at the beginning, a very hard time
convincing his colleagues that the wonders visible through his telescope were
not optical illusions. The problem of the veracity of images is a thousand
times worse in modern astronomy. There have been so many steps between the raw
signals and the final image that it is quite legitimate to wonder what
objective truth remains in the image.
Fortunately, there is a way to weed out erroneous observations in
science. A result or observation is not
accepted until it has been verified independently by other workers, using other
techniques or other measuring instruments. It is highly unlikely that the same
error would be repeated each time, or that the instruments or machines should
fool us on every occasion.
Thus, in principle, technical
difficulties are surmountable. If we could rely upon machines alone, reality
could, in theory, be rendered as objective as possible. But what cannot be
avoided is the human brain. Human beings cannot observe nature in an objective
manner. There is a constant interaction
between our inner world and the outer world.
The inner world of the scientist is full of concepts, models and
theories acquired during his professional training. This inner world, when
projected onto the outer world, prevents the scientist from seeing the bare
objective facts, free from any interpretation.
We only see what we want to see. On that subject, Charles Darwin, the
father of the theory of evolution, told a charming story: He spent a whole day on a river bank and saw
nothing but stones and water. Eleven years later, he returned to the same spot,
searching for traces of earlier glaciation. This time, the evidence stuck out
like a sore thumb. Not even an extinct volcano could have left more visible
traces of its past activity than this old glacier. Darwin discovered what he was looking for as soon as he knew how
to see.
Science goes even further:
the very act of observing can modify reality.
The science of quantum mechanics, which describes the behavior of
subatomic particles, says so. The properties of a particle are unavoidably
disturbed when it is observed because one has to shine light on it. Light and particles going through two holes
behave like waves when the observer does not attempt to find out which hole the
light or particles have gone through.
But behave like particles as soon as one attempts to find out their precise
path by placing detectors after the holes.
This interdependence between observer and reality has been emphasized
many times by the founders of the science of quantum mechanics.
Lets listen for example to
Heisenberg who remarks: What we
observe is not nature in itself but nature exposed to our method of
questioning. or to Bohr who says: As
our knowledge becomes wider, we must always be prepared, therefore, to expect
alterations in the points of view best suited for the ordering of our
experience. In this connection, we must remember, above all, that, as a matter
of course, all new experience makes its appearance within the frame of our customary points of view
and forms of perception.
Not only is there
interdependence between the observer and the observed, but there is also
interdependence between particles in the subatomic world. This is shown by a
famous thought experiment proposed in 1930 by Albert Einstein and his
colleagues Boris Podolsky and Nathan Rosen (known as the EPR experiment).
Imagine, they said, that a particle disintegrates spontaneously into two
photons A and B. Nothing allows us to
say a priori in which directions these two photons will propagate. There is one
certainty however: because of symmetry,
they will leave in opposite directions.
If A goes toward the west, B will go toward the east. Let us set up our
instruments and check. Yes, A goes west
and B goes east. It is as expected.
But this does not take into
account the indeterminacy of the subatomic world. Quantum mechanics tells us
that A has no precise direction before it is captured by the measuring
instrument. It was wearing its guise as a wave and could take any direction. It
is only after it has interacted with the detector that A turns into a particle
and learns that it is going west. If
A did not know what direction to take before being captured by the measuring
instrument, how could B guess in advance the direction of A, and arrange its
trajectory so that it would be captured at the same time in the opposite
direction? This does not make sense. Einstein and his colleagues concluded that
quantum mechanics had therefore gone wrong. But this not the case. Laboratory
experiments have always confirmed quantum mechanics, and the theory does truly
account for the behavior of atoms. How then are we to resolve the EPR paradox?
The paradox exists only
because we assume that reality is localized on each of the two particles. The
paradox is no more if we accept the idea that the two photons, even if they are
separated by billions of light-years, are part of a single reality before they
are recorded by the measuring instruments, and that they are in permanent
contact with each other by some sort of mysterious interaction. Everything is interdependent. Reality is no longer local, but global.
Contributed by: Trinh Xuan Thuan
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