I believe that many innovations of science and technology can strengthen Buddhism ...
... and I believe that many values and insights of Buddhism can help science and technology to find good and healthy directions ...
But I caution against blind faith and reliance on science and technology.
Overly relying on technology and the artificial can blind us to nature ...
From the book:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please allow me to say that I have great trust in science, but I am not someone who believes that science has all the answers. That is patently not true. We have to resist the tendency toward “scientism,” an excessive faith and belief in science as the be all and end all in offering explanations and understanding of the world. For example, biologists and chemists, neurologists and physicists may have much to say on the mechanisms by which a flower germinates and grows, the wave patterns of light, the structure of electro-chemical signal transmission from the retina to the synapses of brain, and the physiology of heart rates and hormonal responses when two persons communicate something meaningful between them. However, no formula or equation can capture the richness and beauty of a simple moment of gazing upon a flower, offering one to a lover, or the wordless experience of the Buddha’s holding up a flower before his disciple, Mahākāśyapa, who smiled in understanding.
Furthermore …
I do not consider myself a “materialist” because, fundamentally, I am convinced that we barely have begun to pull back the curtain in understanding what is truly afoot beyond the surface appearances of time, space, energy and matter that seem to constitute this world. The solid things that appear so sure and “common sense” to our eyes are not so sure nor solid, as discoveries on the relativity of time, the bending of space, quantum mechanics, “spooky action at a distance,” the mysteries of the origin of consciousness and other wonders all hint. As well, some questions may remain forever beyond our limited human capabilities to understand, just as a crawling ant could never begin to understand (should it even want to) the complex chemical structures, reactions, physics and physiology that combine to let an ant crawl. Whatever is going on with the universe, it may be equally beyond our best understanding, for we are not so smart.
Nonetheless, as a good Zen Buddhist, I know that we can know much, and understand all reality in some way: Like a sailor on the sea, ignorant of what lies over its far horizons, never having seen the river that is its source, not knowing the names of all its swimming fish or the count of every grain on its sandy shores, I can dip my finger into its briny waters, and taste on my tongue the whole ocean and all it holds. Furthermore, as a good Zen fellow, I can taste and experience that this ocean and all it holds is just me, and you, and that we are just the sea and each other.
So it is for this whole universe and all the events of time.
...
There may be seasons to return to the minimalist, traditional, low-tech or no tech, rustic, small-scale, natural, socially withdrawn hermitages and ways of life that Zen people have always cherished. We should learn to put down the purchased goods and keyboards, sit still and rest from our goals, quit the quest for constant improvements and efficiency, restrain the endless hunger for achievements, turn off the flashing lights and ceaseless noise. We can be satisfied with enough and not more, for enough is enough. We can learn not to be too desirous, too material, even in a world of increasing material abundance.
But, as Zen tames our technological thirst, can technology enhance our Zen?
Zen lessons can guide us in moderating our excesses. At the same time, might technical and biological enhancements potentially render us more physically, psychologically, socially, and spiritually able to do so: better Zen students through chemistry? Is it possible that the very technology which we are designing to enhance and alter the human body and mind might help us be more spiritually equipped and better able to master the art of living simply?
Or will the outcome be a Zen fiasco, a futuristic version of our present tendency to sell wasteful consumer goods and fake spirituality just by pasting on the label “Zen” and a picture of a plastic Buddha?
What is the middle ground, is there a good mix and balance?
With pharmacologically moderated bodily desires and neural stimulator induced feelings of peace, we may crawl into our 5G, 4-D simulation of Master Ryokan’s grass hut, admiring the laser projected mountains. Listening to the synthesized cry of a Japanese warbler, savoring the taste of genetically modified roots and grasses …
… but what will have happened to the living warblers, ancient stone mountains and natural fields of green, the wild grasses then? Will new Ryokan poems be composed by machine, for we have lost our poetic hearts?
Gassho, J
stlah
... and I believe that many values and insights of Buddhism can help science and technology to find good and healthy directions ...
But I caution against blind faith and reliance on science and technology.
Overly relying on technology and the artificial can blind us to nature ...
From the book:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Please allow me to say that I have great trust in science, but I am not someone who believes that science has all the answers. That is patently not true. We have to resist the tendency toward “scientism,” an excessive faith and belief in science as the be all and end all in offering explanations and understanding of the world. For example, biologists and chemists, neurologists and physicists may have much to say on the mechanisms by which a flower germinates and grows, the wave patterns of light, the structure of electro-chemical signal transmission from the retina to the synapses of brain, and the physiology of heart rates and hormonal responses when two persons communicate something meaningful between them. However, no formula or equation can capture the richness and beauty of a simple moment of gazing upon a flower, offering one to a lover, or the wordless experience of the Buddha’s holding up a flower before his disciple, Mahākāśyapa, who smiled in understanding.
Furthermore …
“There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,
than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
(Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5).
than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”
(Hamlet, Act 1, Scene 5).
I do not consider myself a “materialist” because, fundamentally, I am convinced that we barely have begun to pull back the curtain in understanding what is truly afoot beyond the surface appearances of time, space, energy and matter that seem to constitute this world. The solid things that appear so sure and “common sense” to our eyes are not so sure nor solid, as discoveries on the relativity of time, the bending of space, quantum mechanics, “spooky action at a distance,” the mysteries of the origin of consciousness and other wonders all hint. As well, some questions may remain forever beyond our limited human capabilities to understand, just as a crawling ant could never begin to understand (should it even want to) the complex chemical structures, reactions, physics and physiology that combine to let an ant crawl. Whatever is going on with the universe, it may be equally beyond our best understanding, for we are not so smart.
Nonetheless, as a good Zen Buddhist, I know that we can know much, and understand all reality in some way: Like a sailor on the sea, ignorant of what lies over its far horizons, never having seen the river that is its source, not knowing the names of all its swimming fish or the count of every grain on its sandy shores, I can dip my finger into its briny waters, and taste on my tongue the whole ocean and all it holds. Furthermore, as a good Zen fellow, I can taste and experience that this ocean and all it holds is just me, and you, and that we are just the sea and each other.
So it is for this whole universe and all the events of time.
...
There may be seasons to return to the minimalist, traditional, low-tech or no tech, rustic, small-scale, natural, socially withdrawn hermitages and ways of life that Zen people have always cherished. We should learn to put down the purchased goods and keyboards, sit still and rest from our goals, quit the quest for constant improvements and efficiency, restrain the endless hunger for achievements, turn off the flashing lights and ceaseless noise. We can be satisfied with enough and not more, for enough is enough. We can learn not to be too desirous, too material, even in a world of increasing material abundance.
But, as Zen tames our technological thirst, can technology enhance our Zen?
Zen lessons can guide us in moderating our excesses. At the same time, might technical and biological enhancements potentially render us more physically, psychologically, socially, and spiritually able to do so: better Zen students through chemistry? Is it possible that the very technology which we are designing to enhance and alter the human body and mind might help us be more spiritually equipped and better able to master the art of living simply?
Or will the outcome be a Zen fiasco, a futuristic version of our present tendency to sell wasteful consumer goods and fake spirituality just by pasting on the label “Zen” and a picture of a plastic Buddha?
What is the middle ground, is there a good mix and balance?
With pharmacologically moderated bodily desires and neural stimulator induced feelings of peace, we may crawl into our 5G, 4-D simulation of Master Ryokan’s grass hut, admiring the laser projected mountains. Listening to the synthesized cry of a Japanese warbler, savoring the taste of genetically modified roots and grasses …
… but what will have happened to the living warblers, ancient stone mountains and natural fields of green, the wild grasses then? Will new Ryokan poems be composed by machine, for we have lost our poetic hearts?
Gassho, J
stlah
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