It is a happy faculty of the mind to slough
that which conscience refuses to assimilate.
~ William
Faulkner
I have observed in the Buddhist community an absence of
critical thinking and curiosity that I find particularly alarming. I had expected members of this community--
dedicated as they are to cultivating insight and compassion-- to be more
sensitive, open and discerning than other communities. But I now see that Buddhists can be just as closed-minded
as anybody else.
In my own case, despite a background in critical thinking
(philosophy) and years of therapy (on both sides of the couch), I put aside the
intellectual reservations I had about “awakening” and suspended any disbelief I
had that about my teacher having “it”. It
was thrilling to believe, for the first time in my life, that someone could help
me transcend the human condition. I yielded
to this authority. Even in the wake of actions
that ultimately broke my heart, which I have documented here and that demonstrated
my teacher’s inability to meet our situation with emotional maturity and
compassion, it took me a few years to really disbelieve in him.
From what I have observed, many Buddhist students are striving
like I was toward something they want deeply to believe in, and with the same faith
in their practice and teacher that I had.
They may be open-hearted but, when they hear about their teacher doing
something wrong, they experience an emotional shock that makes the news hard to assimilate. Some are open to
listening anyway, and willing to form their own opinions. But some are not. They snap shut.
Others see their teacher as a consultant or advisor and
remain rather utilitarian in their need of him.
They may have no trouble believing that their teacher tried to seduce a student
but, since their own emotional investment is relatively superficial, they are
generally unsympathetic when a student complains that she was abused. They’re the ones that say things like: “That’s
just the way the world works.” “He’s
only human.” “It’s your own damn fault.” Or “Get over it.” A surprising number of contemporary Buddhists
are like this: emotionally cut-off and psychologically defended against
feelings, theirs and others.
Pragmatic and “Geeky” Buddhism seems to hold a particular
draw for Buddhists who prefer to leave emotions out of it, and Secular Buddhism
seems to attract the crème de la crème. Armed
with the belief that their brand of Buddhism is founded on “reason” and “naturalism”,
or that it is “free of ideology” and “without beliefs”, they pose as more
liberal than traditional institutions when, in fact, they are rigidly bound to
scientistic beliefs and blind to their own ideological presuppositions. This lack of self-awareness, combined with
intellectual arrogance and moral self-righteousness, makes Secular Buddhism, in
my own opinion and experience, the most insidious religion around.
When I have tried to warn members of the secular Buddhist
community about my teacher and his organization, they have met my facts and
arguments with a defensive wall of silence and censorship
or with the knee-jerk reaction of attacking me or my position.
Some pretended to adopt the “neutral” position of withholding judgment
“until more facts are out” or until hearing “the other side of the story”
while already being biased against considering, and in some cases outright
dismissing, first-hand testimony and evidence documenting the
actions of this teacher and his Board of Directors.
Recently, when I posted on a discussion about how to prevent scandals in the secular Buddhist community, spokespersons for The Secular Buddhist Association were quick to cry “gossip” without submitting any facts or evidence of their own and preferring to align
themselves with the more powerful. (They
apparently do not consider it "gossip" when their leaders talk critically behind the backs
of their own teachers and traditions but seem to consider them dharma champions
for coming out “naked”, “atheist” or situated “outside the path of established
institutions”.)
One can understand if, as in the first case, for emotional
reasons, a student might not wish to consider unpalatable facts about her Buddhist
teacher or, as in the second case, a student doesn’t understand or really care
about a teacher’s misuse of power. It is
harder to understand why Buddhist leaders, especially those committed to not
repeating the patterns of exploitation that they have criticized in more
traditional Buddhist cultures, are inflexibly closed to acknowledging the
possibility of abuse happening within their own fellowship.
Somewhere Stephen Batchelor expresses hope that Buddhism not
become a Church. But what is it when an organization is unwilling
to explore, or even be curious about, concerns about one’s secular peers if not institutionalized devotion to this body of teachings and teachers?
