Tag: Dalai Lama

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Revenge is wrong

Fresno Bee, June 16, 2024

Donald Trump recently said, “Sometimes revenge can be justified.” He was responding to a prompt from Dr. Phil, who had quoted Pope Francis on the importance of forgiveness and overcoming resentment. Despite this prompting, Trump opted for revenge.

Some Trumpians may agree that Trump would be justified in seeking revenge against his enemies. And of course, there is an open question about what Trump’s vengeance would look like. In the Dr. Phil interview, Trump said he was hoping for “revenge through success.” Maybe he merely means that electoral victory would be a kind of revenge.

But left-wing pundits have pounced on Trump’s remarks, warning that Trumpism has devolved into a cult of personal vendettas. And in fact, revenge has long been essential to the Trump brand. Long before he ran for president, Trump said, “Always get even. When somebody screws you, you screw them back in spades.”

This idea is immoral. Most adults agree that “two wrongs don’t make a right.” The world’s religious and philosophical traditions counsel against revenge. And many agree with the Pope’s plea for forgiveness and love.

Some go so far as to agree with Jesus about the need to evolve beyond retribution and vengeance. Jesus said, “You have heard that it was said, ‘An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth.’ But I say to you, Do not resist one who is evil. But if anyone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also.”

The retributive idea of eye for eye, tooth for tooth, may appear to have something in common with revenge. But revenge is wildly emotional and often exceeds the limits of retaliation. Retributive justice imposes strict limits on what can be done in return for wrongdoing. Only one eye for one eye—and no more.

The excessiveness of revenge is one of the reasons that criminal justice has nothing to do with it. Criminal justice is not meant to carry out personal vendettas. Rather, it is enacted by legitimate public authorities by due process. Punishments established by law are not intended to satisfy a victim’s desire for vengeance. Rather, these punishments are limited, rational, and calmly and deliberately imposed.

These limits are essential for overcoming cycles of violence and revenge. Revenge is emotional and often disproportionate. The desire for revenge quickly escalates violence. And let’s admit it, revenge fantasies can be fun. The Greek poet Homer said that the desire for revenge was like honey for the soul. This is why revenge may also be addictive, as Dr. Phil said in his interview with Trump. Resentful people seem to enjoy brooding over their injuries and plotting vengeance.

The unreasonable and emotionally excessive nature of revenge leads most philosophers to condemn it. Plato distinguished justice from the “unreasoning vengeance of a wild beast.” Four hundred years ago, Francis Bacon described revenge in similar terms as “wild justice.” He thought civilized law ought to “weed out” revenge.

Among the arguments against revenge is the idea that revenge harms those who seek it. This is the meaning of an old proverb that says, “When you seek revenge, dig two graves.” The Dalai Lama has said something similar, “Indulgence in resentment and vengeance will only further and increase miseries for oneself and others.”

The idea that revenge rebounds and hurts the one seeking it is a common theme in literature. Captain Ahab’s desire for revenge against Moby Dick leads to his doom. And Hamlet ends up dead at the end of his mad quest for revenge.

Another problem is that the spirit of revenge dwells on the pain of the wrongful deed. Bacon said, “A man that studies revenge keeps his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal.” Revenge broods over the past wrong. It prevents us from healing, reconciling, and moving forward.

Forgiveness and love work otherwise. Martin Luther King explained, “Man must evolve a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love.” This does not mean that we give up on justice. Wrongs must be redressed. But enlightenment is found beyond the noxious spirit of vengeance and the idea that revenge can be justified.

Read more at: https://www.fresnobee.com/opinion/article289246125.html#storylink=cpy

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An Atheist at the Parliament of the World’s Religions

I participated in the (October 2021) meeting of the Parliament of the World’s Religions on a panel focused on compassion as a religious and non-religious value. I represented the non-religious point of view in conversation with Dr. Peter Admirand (Dublin City University, and my co-author on Seeking Common Ground), Dr. Veena Howard (a scholar of South Asian religions and my colleague at Fresno State), and Dr. Laura Novak Winer (a rabbi and a professor at Hebrew Union College ).

Earlier that morning, the Dalai Lama had addressed the Parliament. He said, “all religions have something to teach us.” And, “the essence of all religious teaching is compassion.”

Dalai Lama at Parliament of World’s Religions 2021

This important claim asks us to think critically about the long history of religious violence and intolerance. It may be the case that compassion is taught in every religion. But religious people can fail to be compassionate.

The same point is true, of course, for non-religious people. Secular regimes can lack compassion. And atheists can be cold-hearted.

But there is a place for compassion in atheism. Atheists emphasize the fact of human mortality. We all suffer and die. There is no sense in adding to the cruelty of the world. Rather, we should avoid violence and spread good will.

Atheists should acknowledge that human brains and bodies have evolved to include a substantial place for compassion and communal feeling. We are social animals thrown onto a small planet in the middle of the vastness. We should find way to laugh and sing and mourn together (an idea I’ve explored in my book Compassion).

These shared experiences are a focus of religious life. One need not accept the metaphysical pronouncements of religious traditions in order to understand that compassion is good for us and that love and community help us live well.

Unfortunately, the philosophical tradition has often looked askance at compassion. Kantian morality is focused on universal duty detached from emotion. Such an approach may dismiss compassion as a soft, emotional value.

Kant also dismissed the extravagant claims of superstitious religion. In defending his idea of a “pure religion” of reason (in Religion within the Boundaries of Mere Reason), Kant espoused a religion “cleansed of the nonsense of superstition and the madness of enthusiasm.”

Humanistic ethics has evolved to include much more than Kantian universality. We know that compassion is an important part of ethics. And we should understand that people find meaning in religion without simply dismissing it as superstition and nonsense.

This is one reason it is important for atheists, humanists, and philosophers to participate in inter-religious and interfaith dialogue. It is not easy to dismiss another person’s faith when you know them as a real person. Interfaith and inter-religious conversations are promoting solidarity in a world that still includes much religious intolerance. Atheists and humanists need to participate in these conversations because there is often intolerance and misunderstanding across the religious/nonreligious divide.

There are challenges, of course. Atheists sometimes seem to enjoy picking fights with religious believers. Religious people sometimes sling mud in the direction of atheism. I think we should all be more tolerant, hospitable, and compassionate.

This does not mean that we ignore the fundamental disagreements between religious and nonreligious people. But it is possible to be compassionate in our disagreements. Each of us is trying to make sense of life. Some find answers in religion, in all of its complex variety. Others turn away from religion entirely. So long as there is no violence, oppression, and hostility, we can co-exist. And if we take the time to listen to one another, we might find common ground in the shared human struggle to learn, love, and live.

If you are interested in these issues, please join me as I discuss our new book, Seeking Common Ground: A Theist/Atheist Dialogue with Peter Admirand, at a book launch and panel discussion on November 4, 11:30AM Pacific Time. The panel will be in Dublin, Ireland. I’ll join by Zoom. For Zoom details, contact Peter Admirand: peter.admirand@dcu.ie.

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Compassion and Suffering: Tears and Laughter

Fresno Bee, April 4, 2021

Pope Francis once said that compassion is the language of God. Let’s seek it this Easter

Compassion is celebrated by most of the world’s moral traditions. Compassion is the source of human connection. Some think it even goes beyond that. Pope Francis once said that compassion is the language of God. But philosophers worry that compassion is too passive, subjective and melancholic.

The Dalai Lama is an important voice of compassion. He explains that as compassion grows, we develop “both genuine sympathy for others’ suffering and the will to help remove their pain.” Compassion is more than passively feeling the other’s pain. It is also an active response that wants to alleviate suffering.

Buddhist teachings about compassion are often oriented around suffering. A colleague of the Dalai Lama’s, Thupten Jinpa, explains, “At its core, compassion is a response to the inevitable reality of our human condition— our experience of pain and sorrow.”

This is obviously important in a world that includes far too much pain. If we were all more concerned with the suffering of others, the world would be a better place. And while this focus on suffering can seem gloomy, the Buddhists connect compassion with tranquility and happiness. The Dalai Lama says, “The more we care for the happiness of others, the greater our own sense of well-being becomes.”

This may seem paradoxical. But it is only a paradox if compassion is understood as shared suffering. Melancholic compassion is only half of the story. Compassion is also at play in laughter and love-making. Compassion shares joy as well as tears.

To keep compassion too tightly bound to suffering and grief is like having Good Friday without Easter. The point of the Easter story is not to wallow in the darkness, but to re-emerge into the light.

Compassion shares “passion” or emotional experience with others. Our passions are not only negative. Grief, mourning, and despair are certainly important emotions. But wonder and delight are also powerful experiences. Compassion moves us to share the passions of the other person, in sadness and in joy.

Compassion feels good because we are social beings. The receptiveness of compassion is wired into our brains by evolution. As social beings, we enjoy sharing in play, poetry, music, and in the rituals of social life. We do better when we do things in common. Compassionate activity overcomes loneliness and despair. It also allows us to share in playful fun.

One recipe for happiness is found here: if you want to be happy, hang out with happy people who are doing happy things. Happiness — like sadness — is contagious.

Compassion is only melancholic when it is confused with pity. Pity dwells in the negative. We don’t pity people who are doing well. Pity is reserved for the suffering.

The philosopher Immanuel Kant warned against pity. Compassionate pity can “infect” us with the suffering of others, he said. If I suffer because another person is suffering, the result is simply more suffering.

Compassion is better understood as a natural urge to help those who suffer. And while this urge can lead us to act, Kant thought it was insufficient. Sometimes our compassionate urges prevent us from doing our duty. This occurs, for example, when mercy prevents us from punishing those who deserve to be punished. Kant thought that compassion had to be guided by justice.

A similar problem holds for the famous Golden Rule. Love of the neighbor is important. But this does not mean you ought to give the neighbor anything he wants. Love without justice is blind. But justice without mercy is cruel.

A further problem occurs when compassion becomes intrusive. Sometimes we want companionship in our suffering. We cry better (and laugh better) in the company of friends. But sometimes, we simply want to be left alone.

Of course, compassionate people understand all of this. Truly compassionate people have a knack for knowing what is needed. They hold us when we need to cry. They offer laughter when the time is right. They leave us alone when we need solitude. And they try to connect justice and mercy in a world where suffering is common.