Biology is not human destiny

B L Chakoo

Just as it is useful to treat Buddhism as a unitary phenomenon, one among many religious-philosophical-practice traditions — and something consisting, in turn, of a kaleidoscope of diverse subroutines — biology can also be seen as unitary, a coherent discipline comparable to chemistry, physics, geology, and so on. Like Buddhism, however (and like other sciences as well), biology is actually a heterogeneous and slippery thing, consisting in turn of many components: ecology, evolution, genetics, development, microbiology, physiology, anatomy, taxonomy, paleontology, and so forth.’

However, not all aspects of biology or neurobiology are beneficial, when compared and contrasted to Buddhist philosophy. The book, Buddhist Biology therefore concerns itself with those aspects that are fruitful. In fact, there are many ‘opportunities for the Buddhist and biological perspectives’ to coincide, and of these David Barash —who is Professor of Psychology at the University of Washington and a remarkable evolutionary biologist as well as an ‘aspiring Buddhist’ (or ‘Buddhist sympathiser’) — focuses especially on evolution and ecology, but with more than a passing nod to genetics, neuroscience, and religion.  Arguing with force and clarity, Barash happens to believe that Buddhism offers, especially to the people in the West, an attractive aura of Eastern exoticism ‘combined with the hope of transcending’ some of the unappealing aspects of modern high-tech living, with its dangerously growing alienation from ‘the natural world as well as from each other.’  Not only that, but in promising to support free inquiry and an absence of rigid dogma, Buddhism has the added advantage of letting itself open to empirical verification and thus consistent with science (biology in particular). 

David Barash is the first author to make ‘Buddhist biology’ jump off the page with a lucid and profoundly readable presentation not only of all the truly key evolutionary biological science, but of the significance of this field for our understanding of Buddhism’s worldview in which dharma simply exists —gravity, strong and weak forces, photons and electrons and Higgs bosons, the Second law of Thermodynamics, the whole system of natural selection, and indeed, the laws of karma — such that our purpose is to reveal and understand these realities, ‘without worrying that, like Galileo or Darwin, we might run afoul of prior assertions of God’s will as revealed in his perfect and immutable creation.’

Nevertheless, Barash has compelling evidence for privileging the exponential progress of biological science in studying Buddhism. In this highly plausible book, Barash tries to ‘biologise’ the Buddha, pointing as a biologist to the widespread hope that Buddhist philosophy will not only help to ‘humanise science, but also to solve some of the many problems of modernity itself, notably but not limited to environmental destruction, social inequality, violence, excessive consumerism, widespread alienation, and war.”

Provocative and stimulating, Buddhist Biology tries to mend the century-old tear between the religious and scientific cultures with ease and grace. Here clear and vivid writing — incisive and thoughtful, yet sensitive and modest, is a great pleasure.  Every chapter of the book is written with a deep understanding of today’s foremost modern exponent of Buddhism and of current insights in evolutionary biology and genetics. Thus the opening chapter, A Science Sutra, is an entertaining and enlightening study of the historical Buddha’s most exciting — and biologically —  valid teaching that everyone possesses ‘Buddha nature.’  Barash sees that as ‘a statement of biological continuity among all living things.” For him this teaching is not only admirable and worth attention, it is also scientifically ‘accurate.’ In fact, he believes that:  ‘Buddha’s reported experience was not an encounter with God or even with any of his or her messengers. Rather, it is a human being’s experience of the world, and is therefore much more amenable to science.’

Three chapters — Not-Self (Anatman), Impermanence (Anitya), Connectedness (Pratitya-Samutpada) — that follow are solidly grounded in the latest neurobiological research, and supported by a deep understanding of the organising principles of Buddhism, such as, ‘the interconnectedness’ and ‘interdependence’ of all living things. These cover Barash’s (if not entire but great) knowledge of Buddhism, bringing out the most significant features, clarifying what is problematic, and showing where the interest lies for readers of the Buddhist scriptures now. The closing three chapters present a wide-ranging exploration of what Dukkha, Karma, and existential bio-Buddhism meant in the context of Western scientific investigations of the brain. By understanding the convergences between biology and Buddhism, we might see in these chapters our genuine selves ‘more clearly and more deeply.’

This exhilarating book will give you much to think about Buddhism and evolutionary biology, and make you feel good about Barash’s endlessly innovative brain. Buddhist thought and modern biology merge here to create the ultimate dish.