Buddhism and Substantiality

One of the most prominent features of the Buddhist teaching and practice is the insistence on non-attachment. All Buddhist practitioners, regardless of their denomination, seem to unequivocally agree that the Buddha taught abstinence from attaching to the worldly experiences. Such conclusion, however, seems a bit surprising, seeing how it violates an even more basic Buddhist prescription, namely the Middle Way.

If we examine non-attachment more closely, we will see that it comprises of both not clinging, not attaching to something, as well as not rejecting, not being averse to something. Treating non-attachment in a more careful fashion, i.e. not covering it with a blanket statement such as "do not attach to anything", seems to be a more fruitful approach to understanding the Buddha's teaching. The 'beyond falling into extremes' principle (i.e. the Middle Way), that the Buddha taught, is much better served when we understand that not only are we not to attach, not to cling to something, but we're also not to reject something. Thus, our practice tends to be more balanced, or well tempered.

Still, expanding our scope from refraining from attaching to something to include also refraining from reject something, cannot truly salvage this teaching from having an overtone of asceticism. Attaching to something implies being initially attracted to it. Abstaining from the attachment will then mean eschewing our initial attraction. In a similar fashion, refraining from feeling an aversion to something will mean that we must ignore our initial impulse for avoiding it, which again implies the austere path of asceticism.

The Buddha never advocated the extreme path of asceticism, same as he advised against the other extreme of over-indulgence. Understanding that, how are we then to interpret his teaching on non-attachment?

Don't Attach Foolishly

Basically, what the Buddha taught wasn't necessarily "do not attach, period." Rather, what he was warning us against was: "Do not foolishly attach to something that is not there." And conversely, he also warned against rejecting something that doesn't really exist. This teaching is more along the lines of the true Buddhist practice, which is anti-dogmatic to the core. Accepting the 'do not attach' dictum as an unquestionable law would rob our Buddhist practice of its non-dogmatic nature. The Buddha himself kept reminding us to 'come and see for ourselves', meaning, to carefully examine all the claims set forth by his teaching.

Any time someone would approach the Buddha with an issue to discuss, our Teacher would point out the fact that the problem, or the topic of the conversation, is a non-existent one. After demonstrating to the inquirer that the object of his/her vexations doesn't really exist, the Buddha would then advise not to attach to/reject something that's unreal. Thus his explanation would invariably amount to reminding us that it is utterly counter-productive to waste time chasing non-existing items.

One of the most striking illustrations in support of this teaching is the Buddha's metaphor about a man who was shot with a poisoned arrow. If the man refused to receive any medical assistance unless someone explains to him who shot him, why did they shoot him, where was the person who shot him standing, what material was the arrow made of, etc., etc., he would be attaching to the items immaterial to his well being. As such, his attachment would be not only counter-productive, but lethal. And it is obvious that such attachment to the irrelevant things would be completely and utterly foolish.

In conclusion, the reason the Buddha didn't teach full and unqualified non-attachment was because he did not want us to fall into the extreme of asceticism. When a person experiences a strong desire arising within him toward certain object or concept, to practice non-attachment at that point would be a gross mistake. Forcing oneself into an extreme form of asceticism will not successfully make one disinterested. The suppressed urge will effectively never go away. It will only get bottled up and will eventually return with a vengeance.

Do Not Attach To Insubstantial Items

The way out of this predicament is to examine the object of our attachment/aversion. If it turns out that the object of our desire is insubstantial (that is, unreal), the attachment/aversion will naturally and spontaneously dissipate.

Imagine a person trying to reach his destination on foot. As he is walking down the path, he may spot a farmer working in the field. Approaching the farmer, the man begins hailing him and waving his hands. Since the farmer didn't seem to have noticed the man, he starts yelling even louder, trying to catch farmer's attention. After being plainly ignored, the man begins to develop angry feelings toward the farmer and starts preparing for a big speech that he will deliver to him, once he gets close enough.

But at the moment when the wayfarer gets close enough to the farmer, he may suddenly realize that what he was yelling at wasn't the farmer, just a simple scarecrow. At that moment, as the man realizes that the farmer isn't really there, his attachment/aversion to the farmer suddenly disappears. He may feel silly for working up such an anger toward this ascribed 'farmer', but he certainly cannot be attached to the farmer any more.

Thus, the man all of a sudden becomes completely and utterly free from his vexations. Had he, from the very outset, worked hard with the intention not to attach to this farmer, he may never had reached the realization that the farmer isn't really there. He would have then practiced severe asceticism, and will spend the rest of his life wondering what might have happened had he not ignored that 'farmer'.

According to the Buddha's teaching, it is always better to fully examine the experiences that we go through, instead of shutting them off based on some preconceived practice, such as renunciation. To be truly and utterly free, we need to realize the insubstantiality of the objects of our craving/revulsion.

Finding Substantial Evidence

Is it then all right to attach to substantial items? If the only thing we need to make sure is that we examine our experiences, and if they turn out to be insubstantial, leading us therefore to spontaneously let go of them, what are we to do with the ones that are not insubstantial? If a really, truly existing experience presents itself, would it be acceptable according to the Buddhist teaching to attach to such an experience?

Here, the Buddhist teaching is very specific: such truly existing experience is unfindable. Since it is unfindable, it will be mere idle chit-chat to engage in a polemic whether to attach to it or not. Again, attaching to a non-existent, non-findable thing is absurd. Nagarjuna said:

A thing that is not dependently arisen is not evident
A thing that is non-empty is indeed not evident

(Mulamadhyamaka-karika, XXIV, 19)

Thus, the central Buddhist tenet system claims that no one was ever able to present a non-empty, that is, a really existing thing. As such, this teaching holds that all phenomena are dependently arisen, that is, are not truly existent.

This is the central Buddhist teaching of non-substantiality. Seeing how no substance could ever be identified anywhere, any ideas of attaching or rejecting becomes utterly meaningless.

Preponderance of Substantialism

Evidently, all non-Buddhist systems are, in one way or another, based on the underlying idea of a substance. Some of these systems consider that the basis of the manifested world (that is, of phenomena), is some fairly crude form on substantial noumena, such as primordial matter, for example. Other systems may hold that a more ethereal substance permeates the manifested world as its underlying noumenon, such as Light, or Spirit, or Tao, etc.

In Buddhism, substantialism was deemed unreal right from the outset. The Buddha taught impermanence as one of the basic tenets of our experience. He taught that there isn't anything that is permanent, solid and reliable that underlies all the perceived transformations of our ever-changing world. As a corollary to this teaching, he also taught the importance of the absence of self. Not having abiding identity, entities come into being, persist and then perish, but are never able to define their own existence from their own side. As such, entities do not have abiding self, and are insubstantial.

Such clear-cut teaching was quickly overturned in the hands of many of the Buddha's followers, who lacked the capacity of understanding their own experiences in terms of the lack of underlying substance and the underlying self. Many schools and factions formed and branched out of the Buddha's core teaching. One of the most prominent branches (or, a group of similar branches), reached the conclusion that the Buddha taught the insubstantiality and the lack of self in the compounded phenomena (that is, in the aggregates). However, they hold that the Buddha nevertheless proclaimed that the constituent elements, i.e. dharmas, underlying and supporting the compound phenomena, truly exist and are substantial. Thus, they are convinced that such atomic elements, or dharmas, possess unmistakable identity and as such, are representative of a true underlying substance governing the appearance of phenomena. This school is grouped under the umbrella known as Abhidharma school.

At the other end of the spectrum we see an opposite school of Buddhist thought emerge, the one that places emphasis not on the underlying constituent elements comprising reality, but on the perceiver of reality. Thus, the Mind-Only, or Yogachara (also known as Vijnanavada or Chittamatra) was formulated in response to the vulgar materialism of the early dharma-based school (i.e Abhidharma). In this school, things do not exist, only the mind or consciousness perceiving things exists. Like an ocean that gives birth to waves, the mind gives birth to the apparition of phenomena. The phenomena are unreal, but the underlying mind is real. As such, this underlying mind is the substance on whose unique identity this school relies.

From the above described course of events we see that even the Buddhist practice and teaching itself is not immune from the ills of substantiality. Even after the Buddha explicitly rejected any possibility of substantiality, many of his followers couldn't come to grips with such radical approach, and had to reintroduce it through the 'side door', so to speak.

Today, we find the majority of the Buddhist practice worldwide immersed in one form or another of substantiality. Buddhist practitioners either flock toward the older, dharma-based picture of reality, where basic underlying non-compounded elements comprise the underlying substance, or toward the Mind-Only worldview, which proclaims the sovereign substantiality of the mind itself.

A much smaller, almost marginal portion of the Buddhist practitioners today manages to somehow steer clear from both extremes of substantiality. In particular, the Madhyamika school and some of its subdivisions are still the keepers of the original Buddhist flame, in the sense that any and all substantiality is still proclaimed unfindable. Any time anyone brings forward claims of anything substantial, the Madhyamika practitioners subject it to the analysis, and upon reaching only absurd conclusions, put the seeker's mind to rest.

Sometimes, the claim of substantialism can be extremely subtle. There are cases where Buddhist practitioners, while firmly believing in insubstantiality, still manage to introduce it through the 'back door'. For example, certain practitioners may reach the realization that the essence of reality is space-like. Formless, immeasurable void. They may then be convinced how their realization is truly insubstantial.

But in reality, all they've accomplished is attachment to the space. And because they hold space to be the true underlying substance of everything they may experience, they find themselves addicted to this idea, unable to get rid of the subtle attachment.

Some practitioner may go even further, and attach themselves to the idea of awareness. Now, awareness itself is a very subtle, formless phenomenon. As such, it feels so ethereal that most people would never even dream of considering it substantial. Still, by introducing it as an explanatory principle for all other phenomena, practitioners invariably reify it and hold on to it as a primordial substance. In that manner, their subtle attachments present insurmountable barrier to their practice.

Things can get even more subtle than that, where certain very advanced practitioners may get attached to the very idea of emptiness. Thus emptiness, the antithesis of substantiality, is turned into a substance!

And so on. The important point is that we must identify this virulent propensity for reifying anything, for dragging it down to the substantial level. This is the only way we can get attached to anything, and the only way out of that predicament is though practising the original practice of insubstantiality.