The joy of meeting, the sadness of parting, the wealth of vivid dreams, the serene calm of a spring walk, complete immersion in a state of deep meditation – all these and similar states form the sphere of our conscious experience. Regardless of their content, no one in their right mind would doubt the reality of these experiences. All of them, from the completely ordinary to the most sublime, have a certain orderliness and at the same time are highly personal, and therefore their existence can only be discussed from a certain point of view. The experience of inner feelings is completely subjective. The paradox, however, is that, despite the undoubted reality of our subjective world and the thousand-year history of its philosophical research, complete agreement has not yet been achieved in understanding what consciousness is. Science, with its basic principle of the primacy of external objective observations, has so far made very little progress towards answering this question.
The study of consciousness is becoming one of the most exciting areas of scientific research.
At the same time, it becomes obvious to many that modern science still does not have a sufficiently developed methodology for studying the phenomenon of consciousness. This does not mean that there are no philosophical theories in the field or that some effort has not been made to explain consciousness within a materialist paradigm. One of the extreme approaches here is represented by the point of view of behaviorism – a direction that tries to define consciousness in terms that describe external behavior and reduce mental phenomena to a set of speech and behavioral reactions. The other extreme is represented by Cartesian dualism with its idea that the world consists of two independent and substantially real entities – matter, characterized by qualities such as extension, and mind, described in terms of an immaterial substance, a kind of spirit. Between these two extremes lies a wide variety of theories, from functionalism (which attempts to define consciousness by describing its functions) to neurophenomenology (which defines consciousness by its neural correlates). Most of these theories attempt to conceptualize consciousness as some aspect of the material world.
But what about direct observation of consciousness itself? What are its characteristics and how does it function? Are all life forms (including plants and animals) conscious? Does our conscious life continue only when we are aware of the presence of consciousness, and during periods, for example, dreamless sleep, consciousness remains completely inactive or even completely disappears? Does consciousness consist of a series of discrete moments of mental movement, or is it continuous but constantly changing? Are there levels of consciousness? Is the presence of an object an indispensable condition for the existence of consciousness, that is, must it necessarily be consciousness of something ? What is the relationship of consciousness to the unconscious – not only to the electrochemical reactions occurring in the brain matter that can be correlated with mental processes, but also to the more complex and perhaps problematic phenomena of the subconscious: desires, intentions and memory? And in general, in light of the extreme subjectivity of the nature of our consciousness, can it be the subject of objective scientific consideration?
The problem of consciousness has attracted enormous attention of Buddhist philosophical thought throughout its development. For Buddhism, with its primary interest in issues of morality, spirituality and relief from suffering, understanding the nature of consciousness, the main defining characteristic of living beings, seems to be the most important issue. According to the writings of early Buddhism, the Buddha himself believed that consciousness plays a major role in determining the direction of a person’s movement towards happiness or suffering. For example, the famous cycle of Buddha’s discourses, called the Dhammapada, opens with the words that the mind is primary and permeates all things.
Before continuing, I would like to recall the purely linguistic problems of describing subjective experience. Despite the universality of the experience of consciousness, the language in which we express individual, subjective experience has its own unique characteristics, rooted in cultural, historical and linguistic foundations. These linguistic differences create for the bearer of a given culture a specific field of conceptual perception, formed by a set of ideas, historical and linguistic base, etc. For example, in Western European languages there are words for “consciousness”, “mind”, “intellectual manifestations” and “awareness”. And in the context of Buddhist philosophy of consciousness, we will use such terms as kaklo (Tib. Yo, Skt. Buddhi), shepa (Tib. shespa, Skt. Jnana ) and rigpa (Tib. Rigpa, Skt. Vidya), each of which can be roughly translated into European languages as “awareness” or “intelligence” in the broadest sense of the word. Buddhist philosophy also speaks of this (Tib. sems, Sanskrit citta), which in European languages corresponds to the concept of “mind”, namshe (Tib. rnam shes, Sanskrit vijnana ), “consciousness”, and yid (Tib. id , Skt. manas), “mentality” or “states of mind.”
The Tibetan word namshe, or its Sanskrit equivalent vijnana, which is often translated as “consciousness”, has a much wider scope than the corresponding Western term, since it refers not only to the entire space of conscious experience, but also to those manifestations that modern Western Psychology refers to the area of the so-called subconscious. Further, the Tibetan term sem (Sanskrit citta), which is usually translated as “mind,” refers not only to the realm of thoughts but also to emotions. Undoubtedly, when talking about consciousness, we should strive for as complete mutual understanding as possible, but we must always take into account the limitations imposed by the peculiarities of the terminology used.
The problem of describing subjective experience is, of course, a very difficult one, since here we are trying to objectify what is purely subjective in nature, eliminating the inner observer. But we cannot completely remove ourselves from such consideration. No scientific description of the neural mechanism of color perception conveys the feeling we experience, for example, when we perceive the color red. So, here we are dealing with a completely unique field of study: the object being studied, the instrument of study and the one who comprehends the result of the research are all one and the same mind of our own. In this regard, the question arises: isn’t the problem of an objective scientific study of consciousness completely insoluble? Shouldn’t we doubt the very legitimacy of such a study?
We tend to treat the world of consciousness as something completely homogeneous, considering it as a kind of monolithic entity, the so-called mind. But when we take a deeper look, we find that this approach is extremely simplistic. The consciousness we experience is a collection of many different states of mind. On the one hand, these states can be clearly cognitive, such as faith, memory, perception and attention, or they can also be predominantly affective, such as emotions. In addition, one can discern a region of mental manifestations whose function is primarily to serve as causal factors that motivate us to action. These include intention, will, desire, fear and anger. But even among cognitive states we can distinguish between sensory perceptions such as vision, which are directly related to the objects perceived, and conceptual thinking, with its inherent imagination and voluntary recall of the selected object. These last two processes do not necessarily require the immediate presence of something perceived and do not depend on the current activity of the senses.
In Buddhist philosophy of mind one can find discussions regarding ways of classifying mental phenomena, as well as their various characteristics. First of all there is a sixfold classification: sight, hearing, smell, taste, touch and the objects of the mind itself. The first five relate to the realm of sensory perception, while the last point includes a wide range of mental states, ranging from memory and will to imagination. Mental states belonging to the field of sensory perception are derived from the activities of the five senses, considered material, while purely mental experience is largely independent of the physical basis.
The Yogacara school adds two more points to this classification, making it eightfold. Proponents of this approach believe that mental perception itself is too fleeting and conditioned to serve as the basis of the unity that we find in our subjective experiences and in our sense of self-identity. They argue that underlying all these changing, circumstantial states of mind there must be a certain basic mind (Sanskrit manas), which maintains unity and continuity throughout the life of the individual. In their opinion, it should be understood as the fundamental consciousness, the basis of all mental phenomena. Inseparable from this fundamental consciousness is the intuitive experience of “I am,” which the Yogacara school considers an essential characteristic of the individual stream of consciousness.
The Middle Way ( Madhyamaka ) school, which was generally followed by the majority of Tibetan thinkers and which I myself also share, rejects this typology and argues that the entire spectrum of consciousness is quite adequately described by the sixfold classification. The greatest objection among supporters of the Middle Way school is the possible understanding of the fundamental consciousness postulated in the eightfold classification as something self-existent in nature.
The question arises, what unites all this multitude of phenomena as belonging to the same group of internal experience, which we call “mind”? I clearly remember from childhood my first epistemology lesson, when I had to memorize the saying “The characteristics of the mind are clarity and knowledge.” This definition of consciousness was given by Tibetan thinkers based on ancient Indian scriptures. Only many years later did I understand what a deep philosophical problem lies behind this seemingly simple formulation. And now I often cannot help but smile when I see nine-year-old monks pronounce this phrase with confidence in the debate hall that forms the basis of the educational process in Tibetan monastic schools.
So, Indo-Tibetan Buddhist thought came to define the mind as having the qualities of radiance or clarity and knowledge or consciousness. Clarity here refers to the mind’s ability to detect, or display, its objects. Consciousness is his ability to perceive, or understand, what falls within the scope of this display. All phenomena having these two qualities are considered to belong to the mind. Such things are very difficult to describe in concepts, because here we are dealing with completely subjective and internal phenomena, and not with material objects that can be fully measured and described in spatio-temporal categories. Perhaps it is because of these complexities—the limitations of language and the subjectivity of the subject itself—that early Buddhist texts talk about the nature of mind primarily metaphorically, using images such as light or a flowing river. Just as in the case of light there is no categorical distinction between illumination and what is illuminated, so in the case of consciousness it is impossible to separate the process of cognition or perception from what is known or perceived. Consciousness, like light, has as its quality the ability to illuminate.
Speaking of mental phenomena as having, according to the Buddhist understanding, two defining characteristics – clarity and knowledge – one might think that Buddhism preaches something similar to Cartesian dualism, namely that we are talking about two independent substances, one of which is called “matter”. “, and the other – “mind”. In order to eliminate possible misunderstandings, I will be forced to make a small digression and briefly outline the basic classification of reality according to the philosophy of Buddhism. In our world of conditioned phenomena there are three fundamental aspects, or three classes of objects:
1. Matter – physical objects.
2. Mind – subjective experiences.
3. Abstract compound concepts are creations of the mind.
As far as the world of matter is concerned, there are no significant differences between the approaches of Buddhism and modern science. Between these two traditions a general agreement can be reached in defining the main characteristics of material phenomena. Buddhism, like science, considers such properties of matter as extension, space-time localization, etc. to be characteristic features of the material world. In addition to these visible material objects, from a Buddhist point of view, phenomena such as microparticles, various fields (for example, electromagnetic) and natural forces (for example, gravity) can also be included in the first category. Nevertheless, in the understanding of Buddhist philosophy, reality is not exhausted by the contents of this first area.
In addition to this, there is also the sphere of subjective experience, which includes our thought process, sensory perception and the rich world of emotional life. From a Buddhist point of view, most of the elements of this second region can also be found in other living beings. These manifestations are largely dependent on their physical basis, including neural networks, brain cells and sensory organs, but nevertheless the mental sphere is largely independent of the material world. According to Buddhism, it cannot be completely reduced to the world of matter, although it depends on it in its manifestations. With the exception of one materialist school of ancient India, most Indian and Tibetan schools of thought agree with the idea that it is impossible to completely reduce all manifestations of the mind to a set of physical processes.
But, in addition, there is another sphere of reality – abstract composite concepts that cannot be characterized either as physical objects, since they do not have material components, or as objects of exclusively internal subjective experience. Here I am talking about those numerous signs of reality that are included in our understanding of the world. Phenomena such as time, concepts and laws of logic, while essentially constructs of the mind, nevertheless differ from the first two spheres of reality. And although all phenomena belonging to this third area are caused by either the physical or the mental sphere, they have characteristics that distinguish them from objects in both areas.
I have come to the conclusion that this taxonomy of the objects of reality, which dates back to the early stages of the development of Buddhist philosophical thought, is almost identical to that developed by Karl Popper. Popper called these areas the “First World,” “Second World,” and “Third World.” By these he meant (1) the world of things and physical objects; (2) the world of subjective experience, including thought processes; and (3) the world of statements themselves—as opposed to the world of mental processes. It is amazing that Karl Popper, who, as far as I know, had no background in Buddhist philosophy, came to almost the same classification of categories of reality. If at the time when we had a chance to communicate, I had known about this amazing kinship between his way of thinking and the philosophy of Buddhism, I would certainly have discussed this point with him.
Western philosophy and science in general tend to explain consciousness exclusively in terms of brain processes. This reductionist approach to ontological questions reduces the nature and very existence of mind to matter. Some scientists see the mind in terms of a computer model, something similar to artificial intelligence; others try to apply an evolutionary model to explain the emergence of various aspects of consciousness. In modern neurophysiology, the question is being discussed: are the mind and consciousness something more than a simple result of brain activity, and do perception and emotions go beyond chemical reactions? To what extent does the world of subjective experience depend on the substance of the brain and the way it works? This dependence must exist to some extent, but is it absolute? What are the necessary and sufficient reasons for the emergence of subjective phenomena of consciousness? Many scientists, especially those working in the field of neurobiology, believe that consciousness is a special kind of physical process that develops based on the specific structure and dynamics of brain cells. I remember a conversation with some famous neuroscientists at the American Medical School. I was kindly shown the latest scientific methods of deep penetration into the processes of the human brain, such as MRI (magnetic resonance imaging) and EEG (electroencephalography), and also showed how the brain works in its dynamics. Afterwards we chatted about the current scientific understanding of consciousness. I then told one of the researchers: “It seems quite clear that as a result of changes in chemical processes occurring in the brain, a variety of subjective experiences can arise, such as sensory sensations or emotions. Is there a reverse effect? Is it possible through thought to influence the processes occurring in the brain matter? The question, in fact, comes down to whether we can, at least theoretically, admit the possibility of not only direct, but also reverse causality?
The scientist’s answer surprised me. He said that since all mental states arise as the result of physical processes, no other causation is possible. At that time, out of politeness, I had to remain silent, but nevertheless, I still believe that such a categorical statement has no scientific basis. The opinion that all mental phenomena have exclusively physical causes is, in fact, a metaphysical assumption, and not a scientific fact. I believe that in the spirit of scientific inquiry it is absolutely necessary to leave this question open and not confuse our assumptions with scientific facts.
There are also a number of scientists and philosophers who believe that an explanation of the phenomenon of consciousness can be obtained through the development of research in the field of quantum physics. We were once talking with David Bohm about the idea of the implicate order of reality, according to which both matter and consciousness manifest themselves on the basis of common principles. Due to their common nature, Bohm said, it is not surprising that we find a great similarity in the order between thought and matter. Although I never fully understood Bohm’s theory of consciousness, his approach, based on a holistic understanding of reality that includes both mind and matter, opens the way for a more comprehensive approach to understanding the world.
In 2002, I met with a group of scientists from the University of Canberra, Australia, about the subject of subconscious states of mind. During that meeting, astrophysicist Paul Davis said he had a good idea of how a quantum theory of consciousness might be formulated. I must admit that explanations of the nature of consciousness based on the quantum model of matter always leave me confused. Of course, it is not surprising that it is quantum physics, with its beyond-conventional notions of nonlocality, quantum wave superposition, and the Heisenberg uncertainty principle, that can lead to the deepest understanding of specifically cognitive activity. But nevertheless, I cannot understand why the quantum theory of consciousness is better than the neurobiological explanation based on the classical understanding of the physical nature of cognitive processes. In my opinion, until the subjectivity of the phenomenon of consciousness itself is fully taken into account, the gap between understanding the physical processes of the brain, on the one hand, and observing the factors of the mind itself, on the other, will remain unfilled.
Neuroscience has made remarkable strides in mapping the brain and understanding the functions of its different parts. These studies are an amazing process with very interesting results. And yet, there are the most conflicting opinions about where exactly consciousness is localized and whether there is a specific area of its localization at all. Some researchers believe that such a place is the cerebellum, others attribute it to the reticular formation, and some to the hippocampus. But, despite this lack of certainty on this issue, most scientists working in this area still agree that the phenomenon of consciousness can be fully explained within the framework of neurophysiology.
Behind all this is the deep conviction that both cognitive and experiential states of mind can be unambiguously correlated with physical processes occurring in the brain matter. With the invention of powerful new research tools, knowledge about the relationships between cognitive activity and brain activity has increased exponentially. For example, at one of the Life and Mind conferences, psychologist Richard Davidson presented a detailed description of exactly how negative emotions, such as fear and hatred, are connected to a specific part of the brain called the amygdala. This connection between emotional states and brain structure is so specific that patients in whom this area is damaged are completely unable to experience fear.
I then made the remark that if the complete safety of neutralizing this part of the brain for the entire organism is experimentally shown, then excision of the amygdala may turn out to be the most effective method of spiritual progress! But, of course, everything is not so simple. It turns out that, in addition to its role as the basis for negative emotions, this part of the brain also performs other tasks, for example, it is the basis for recognizing danger, and in its absence in many situations we will find ourselves completely helpless.
Despite enormous advances in observing the intimate connections between distinct brain structures and states of consciousness, I do not think that neurophysiology currently has any real explanation for the phenomenon of consciousness itself. Perhaps this science can show that the activity observed in certain parts of an individual’s brain corresponds to the experience of certain cognitive states, but the question of the reasons for such a correlation remains open. No neurobiological explanations can provide the concept of the same subjective experience of, for example, the color blue. What this or that experience is like is known only to the one who experiences it. In the same way, neuroscientists can determine the moment when a person dreams, but can they tell anything about the content of the dream?
The statement that the mind is merely a function, or manifestation, of the properties of matter can be taken as a methodological approach to the consideration of phenomena, or as a metaphysical assumption. But such an assumption makes many phenomena inexplicable. How, for example, can we explain the very origin of consciousness? What determines the transition from insensitive to sentient beings? A model of development that is completely reduced to the idea of evolution through natural selection is only a descriptive hypothesis, a kind of replacement for the concept of “miracle,” and not a scientific explanation.
The key idea for understanding the Buddhist concept of consciousness and the reasons for this teaching’s denial of the possibility of reducing the mind to the manifestations of matter is the theory of causality. The question of causality has long remained the focus of philosophical and meditative consideration for Buddhist thinkers. Buddhism speaks of two fundamentally different categories of causes: substantial and secondary, or additional, causes. Let’s take a clay pot as an example. The substantial cause here refers to the material, namely the clay, which has taken the form of the pot. All other factors directly related to the emergence of the pot, such as the skill of the potter, himself, the kiln and others, are additional in the process of transforming clay into a pot. This distinction between substantial and secondary causes of an object or event is very important for understanding the Buddhist theory of consciousness. According to Buddhism, since consciousness and matter equally contribute to the creation of each other, neither can cause the other.
In fact, this reasoning is precisely the premise on which Buddhist thinkers such as Dharmakirti rationalize the validity of the theory of reincarnation. Dharmakirti’s argument can be formulated as follows: the consciousness of a newborn infant arises on the basis of a previous moment of its cognitive activity, which is a moment of consciousness prior to the present moment.
The whole problem revolves around the argument that the various moments of consciousness we experience arise from previous moments, and since the nature of consciousness and matter are completely different, the first moment of consciousness of a newborn being must be preceded by its own substantial cause, which can only be the same moment of consciousness. Thus, in Buddhism the existence of previous lives is justified.
Other Buddhist philosophers, such as Bhavaviveka (6th century AD), justified antecedent existence by pointing out the presence of innate instincts in living beings, such as the instinct of a newborn to seek the mother’s breast and suck milk.
These thinkers argued that it was impossible to intelligibly explain the phenomenon of such innate knowledge without the assumption of some form of pre-existence of the mind.
Regardless of how convincing such arguments are, there are many examples of children who clearly remember their previous lives, not to mention the Buddha’s own accounts of his own previous births contained in various Buddhist scriptures. I know of one remarkable case that occurred in the early 70s of the last century with a little girl from the city of Kanpur in the Indian state of Uttar Pradesh. At first, her parents did not pay much attention to the girl’s reports of having another set of parents in the place she described quite accurately. But the description was so specific that eventually adults began to listen to her. When the couple she identified as her parents in a previous life came to see the girl, she told them details of her previous life that only her closest relatives could know. As a result, by the time I learned about this story, the second parents fully recognized the girl as a member of their family. This, of course, cannot be considered strict evidence, but such stories cannot be completely ignored.
The Buddhist tradition has written many works devoted to the analysis of these arguments, the technical aspect of which lies beyond the scope of our discussion. The main thing I would like to emphasize is the fact that, according to Dharmakirti, the theory of rebirth is not solely a matter of faith. He attributes the provisions of this theory to the area of so-called incompletely obvious phenomena, the truth of which can be confirmed through logical conclusions.
The key point that distinguishes the study of consciousness from consideration of the properties of the physical world is that the personal aspect should not be lost sight of. In the physical world, if we leave aside the problematic issues of quantum physics, we are dealing with phenomena that are entirely subject to the scientific method of independent objective consideration. In general, we have confidence that the scientific explanation of the physical world does not overlook any key element of it. In the realm of subjective experience, the situation is completely different. When we hear purely objective, scientific descriptions of states of consciousness, we have the feeling that the most important factor has been excluded from consideration – the subjectivity of this experience. Here I am talking about the phenomenological aspect of mental phenomena, namely, the subjectivity of the experience of their individual experience.
Even from such a brief discussion, I think it is clear that the objectivist method of inquiry, which has served science so well for many years, is insufficient in the field of considering the phenomena of consciousness. To succeed in further studying this issue, science requires a change in the scientific paradigm. Namely, the objectivist approach, based on independent observation, must be combined with the method of subjective observation, which allows us to include in consideration those qualities that characterize the personal experience of the phenomena of consciousness. That is, it is necessary to make the research method adequate to the object under consideration. Based on the fact that the most important characteristic of consciousness is its subjective nature, any systematic study of this phenomenon should include techniques that allow one to work at the level of subjective experiences.
So, a comprehensive scientific study of consciousness must include both independent, objective and subjective methods of observation: adhering to all the rules of strict scientific methodology, such a study must not ignore the phenomenon of the reality of subjective experience. Therefore, the key question is: is it possible to imagine a scientific methodology for the study of consciousness in which the sound method of the subjective approach, which fully describes the specifics of the phenomenon of experience, would be combined with an objectivist approach to the study of brain problems?
Here I see a field for broad and fruitful cooperation between modern science and contemplative traditions, such as Buddhism. Buddhism has a long history of studying the nature of the mind and its various aspects – all its meditative practice and critical philosophical analysis come down to this study. Unlike modern science, Buddhism takes into account primarily personal experiences. The contemplative method in Buddhism is an experience of self-observation supported by diligent training in developing the contemplative method and rigorous testing of the validity of the results obtained. All subjective meditative experiences that claim to be authentic must be tested here by their repetition by the same practitioner, as well as by other people who achieve similar states through similar practice. Once tested, these states can be recognized as universal, at least for human beings.
The Buddhist understanding of the nature of the mind comes primarily from empirical observation based on the phenomenology of experience, including various contemplative meditation techniques. On this basis, working hypotheses are developed regarding the nature of the mind, its various aspects and functions; all of them are subject to critical philosophical analysis and experimental verification through meditation and conscious introspection. If we want to know how our perception works, we must develop attention and learn to observe moment by moment the arising and decay of acts of perception. It is an experiential process that results in subjective, deeply personal knowledge of certain aspects of the workings of the mind. We can then use this knowledge to reduce outbursts of emotion, such as anger or resentment (and indeed, people who practice meditation, wanting to get rid of mental defilements, which are harmful emotions, do just that), but the main thing I want to point out is: This process offers primarily a subjectivist empirical method for studying the mind.
I understand that in modern science there is a deep distrust of everything subjective. The problem is the need to find objective criteria to make a choice between the contradictory subjective statements of different people, which is why Western psychology avoids using introspection as a method of studying the mind. Given the dominance of the objectivist research method as the main scientific paradigm, such mistrust is completely understandable.
I am ready to agree with the thought of Harvard psychologist Stephen Kosslyn, a pioneer in the study of the role of introspection in the process of imagination. At a recent “Life and Consciousness” conference devoted to the study of problems of consciousness, he pointed out the need to take into account the natural limits of introspection. No matter how trained a person is, he said, we still cannot obtain evidence that through introspection he is able to identify the structure of a neural network or the biochemical composition of the brain, or the physical correlate of a specific mental activity, that is, to solve one of the problems that are solved with a high degree of accuracy through empirical observation methods using modern scientific instruments. Nevertheless, self-observation, carried out with the help of special training and the presence of special internal discipline, should be the most suitable method for studying the psychological and phenomenological aspects of our cognitive and emotional processes.
There is a huge difference between what happens during meditative contemplation in a tradition such as Buddhism and introspection in the ordinary sense of the word. In the context of Buddhism, self-absorption is accompanied by strengthening the discipline of the mind, since it is carried out taking into account the danger of extreme subjectivity, manifested in fantasies and delusions. Strengthening mindfulness in the sense of increasing its stability and clarity is an absolutely necessary prerequisite for strict self-observation, just as a telescope is necessary for studying the celestial bodies. Just like in science, there are observation protocols and specific procedures that the observer must follow. Upon entering the laboratory, a person unfamiliar with science will not be able to understand how to use the instruments available there and what the result of the observation should be. In the same way, a person with an untrained mind will not be able to apply introspective focusing of consciousness on a chosen object and will not be able to determine which aspect of the mind is currently being considered. But a person with a trained mind, like an experienced scientist, knows exactly what to focus on and is able to correctly evaluate the result of an observation.
It is quite possible that the question of whether our consciousness in an absolute sense can be reduced to purely material processes or whether the subjectivity of experiences indicates an immaterial component of the world can only be resolved through philosophical consideration. The key problem here is to eliminate the metaphysical approach to the consideration of mind and matter and at the same time maintain scientific rigor in understanding the various manifestations of consciousness. I believe that Buddhism and modern science can begin joint research in this area, leaving aside for now the purely philosophical question of whether consciousness is exclusively a product of matter. Combining these research methods can enrich both directions. Such collaborations will not only make the understanding of consciousness more humanistic, but will help to better understand the dynamics of the human mind in its relationship to suffering. This approach can be one way to eliminate suffering, which I believe is our first priority on Earth.
Read online. The book “The Universe in One Atom: Science and Spirituality in the Service of the World.” Tenzin Gyatso
Content
Preface. Introduction
1. Meditation
2. My encounter with science
3. Emptiness, relativity and quantum physics
4. The Big Bang Theory and the Buddhist Beginningless Cosmos
5. Evolution, karma and the world of living beings
6. The problem of the emergence of consciousness
7. Towards a science of consciousness
8. Factors of consciousness
9. Ethical problems of modern genetics
Conclusion. Science, Spirituality and Humanity