The Bodhisattva's Brain : Buddhism Naturalized

by Owen J. Flanagan

Can there be a Buddhism without karma, nirvana, and reincarnation that is compatible with the rest of knowledge?

If we are material beings living in a material world--and all the scientific evidence suggests that we are--then we must find existential meaning, if there is such a thing, in this physical world. We must cast our lot with the natural rather than the supernatural. Many Westerners with spiritual (but not religious) inclinations are attracted to Buddhism--almost as a kind of moral-mental hygiene. But, as Owen Flanagan points out in The Bodhisattva's Brain, Buddhism is hardly naturalistic. In The Bodhisattva's Brain, Flanagan argues that it is possible to discover in Buddhism a rich, empirically responsible philosophy that could point us to one path of human flourishing.

Some claim that neuroscience is in the process of validating Buddhism empirically, but Flanagan's naturalized Buddhism does not reduce itself to a brain scan showing happiness patterns. Buddhism naturalized, as Flanagan constructs it, offers instead a fully naturalistic and comprehensive philosophy, compatible with the rest of knowledge--a way of conceiving of the human predicament, of thinking about meaning for finite material beings living in a material world.

Genres: Philosophy, Buddhism, Psychology, Religion, Spirituality, Nonfiction, Science

264 pages, Hardcover

First published August 5, 2011

About the author

Owen Flanagan, Ph.D. (born 1949) is the James B. Duke Professor of Philosophy and Professor of Neurobiology at Duke University. Flanagan has done work in philosophy of mind, philosophy of psychology, philosophy of social science, ethics, contemporary ethical theory, moral psychology, as well as Buddhist and Hindu conceptions of the self.

Flanagan earned his Ph.D from Boston University and his Bachelor of arts degree from Fordham University.

Flanagan has written extensively on consciousness. He has been realistic about the difficulty of consciousness as a scientific and philosophical problem, but optimistic about the chance of solving the problem. One of the problems in a study of consciousness is the hidden way in which conscious states are dependent on brain states. Flanagan has proposed that there is a "natural method" to go about understanding consciousness that involves creating a science of mind. Three key elements of this developing science are: 1) paying attention to subjective reports on conscious experiences, 2) incorporating the results from psychology and cognitive science, and 3) including the results from neuroscience that will reveal how neuronal systems produce consciousness.

Flanagan is currently on the Editorial Board of Greater Good Magazine, published by the Greater Good Science Center of the University of California, Berkeley. Flanagan's contributions include the interpretation of scientific research into the roots of compassion, altruism, and peaceful human relationships.

-http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Owen_Fla...

Reviews

[Drew Canole · Rating 3 out of 5]

People Flanagan name drops:

Hobbes
Hume
Kant
Aristotle
Foucault
Plato
Socrates
Descartes
Spinoza
Wittgenstein
Saint Augustine
Heidegger (not named but uses the Dassein, being-in-time-in-the-world concepts)
William James
Kierkegaard
Nietzsche
Leibniz
Locke
Marx
JS Mill
Nozick
Karl Popper
Bertrand Russell
Rorty
Schopenhauer
Sartre
The Stoics
The Epicureans
the Hellenists
Whitehead

Otherwise known as the majority of the western philosophical canon.

He even references James Joyce, Leo Tolstoy and Proust.

So if you don't have a good (or reasonable) understanding of all those guys, this is going to be a tough read. I think the audience for this book is very select: Well-read north Americans with an interest in an Aristotelian, naturalist interpretation of Buddhist ethics and advice on the good life. I think if I were to have read this book ten years from now, you know, when I'm an old well-read white guy, I would have enjoyed it a lot more. I liked the references and the attempt to distill Buddhism through Aristotle - because I have read all the guys he name drops, and I'm almost his audience.

The first half deals with the neuroscience of happiness (and whether measuring whether buddhism leads to happiness is even possible). He then dissects Buddhism to try and wash away all the "hocus pocus" in it, leaving only the elements that are 'live-options' for educated north american atheists (no rebirths, spirits etc.).

The second half of the book is more interesting; it deals with the actual impact adopting or learning Buddhism could have on one's life.

I got pretty bored half way through each of the six fairly lengthy chapters presented here. I would have liked to have had a digestible recap at the end of each chapter.

I also listened to a discussion with the author on Partially Examined Life.

http://www.partiallyexaminedlife.com/...

http://www.partiallyexaminedlife.com/...

[Joseph · Rating 2 out of 5]

ok, i hate to say this but i'm just going to come out and say it:
why do all philosophy books have to be laced with mental masturbatory drivel?
is there a good philosophy book written in a plain, easy-to-understand manner?
well, this book WAS interesting in that you have to really understand buddhism before reading it. otherwise, you're screwed. but if you do know it it helps deepen your knowledge of the theory behind the religion.
that being said, i learned a bit from this book. but it was written in such an unnecessary, complex manner that i left questioning whether or not i understood the author.
i leave this book with an ambivalent sigh.

[Jason · Rating 1 out of 5]

UNCLE! UNCLE! U-N-N-NCLE! For the love of god (or not), I can't take it anymore.

For the first time in (approximately) 15 years I am doing something that I am very remiss in doing - I have to stop reading this book. (For what it's worth, my previous abandonment, 'The Celestine Prophecy' - absolute tripe.) If I could give this book a 'zero' star in order to drive down its average rating, I would, but hopefully the 'one' star will help in this effort.

I am a fan of Sam Harris and his thoughts/writing style, but once again I have been screwed by his website's recommendation of this book (the first being his endorsement of '36 Arguments...'; at least I finished that one, albeit barely). Do book jacket blurb writers make a profit off every volume sold?

Unreadable.

PostScript: Am I including this book in the 2014 reading challenge, despite not finishing it? You're damn right I am! Haven't I suffered enough?

[Clay Kallam · Rating 4 out of 5]

Owen Flanagan sets out to "naturalize" Buddhism -- and by that he means make it conform with "modern" science. Once having done that, he then looks at whether Buddhism is a way of life that encourages happiness, or at a lesser level, "flourishing."

OK, that's a lot of quote marks for one paragraph, so let's take them one at a time. First, "naturalize" is Flanagan's word for getting rid of superstition, magic and the other accoutrements that have been added since the original, more simple message first delivered several centuries before the birth of Christ. That's fine as far as it goes, but Flanagan is then forced by "modern" (more on that coming) science to discard karma and reincarnation, which are pretty much bedrocks of Buddhism.

A case could be made that Buddhism without karma and reincarnation isn't really Buddhism at all, which would leave Flanagan with a book about, well, not much at all.

As for the "modern" part of modern science, Flanagan assumes that what we know now is what we'll always know, and that the material limitations of our brains necessarily limits the ways in which karma and reincarnation can be reified. (I threw in "reified" because it reflects the philosophical jargon that Flanagan assumes the reader knows. "Consequentialism" and Heidigger's "Dasein" are just two of the references that Flanagan doesn't explain, and though that's far from a fatal flaw, it is a flaw.) It is possible, of course, that the extra dimensions required by string theory might contain mechanisms that allow for karma and reincarnation, but it is also possible that they won't. Still, I'm not sure Flanagan had to be quite so strict, though it appears "The Bodhisattva's Brain" is aimed at a professional audience as well as general readers.

Finally, the thrust of the book is about whether Buddhism can help human beings "flourish," which Flanagan carefully differentiates from "happiness." "Flourishing" is having various positive qualities, as defined by Buddhism, and Flanagan compares those positive qualities and their possible impact on people's lives with positive qualities that fit with other ethical and moral systems (notably Aristotle's).

Flanagan is an entertaining writer, and "The Bodhisattva's Brain" is compact and to the point, so all in all, I found it both engaging and educational. The criticisms are, in a sense, minor, though again, there would be many who say that removing karma and reincarnation from the belief system means that the discussion isn't really about Buddhism, but rather some truncated version of an ancient philosophy. Once past that hurdle, though, there's plenty here worth pondering.

[Miles · Rating 3 out of 5]

It’s been nearly a decade since my favorite undergraduate philosophy professor introduced me to Owen Flanagan. Flanagan is part of a vibrant but relatively new philosophical niche: naturalized ethics. The field plumbs the depths of philosophical history, plucks out tidbits that harmonize with modern findings about the capabilities and constraints of the embodied mind and human communities, and rejects the rest as outdated nonsense. In my view, naturalized ethics is one of the only specializations in academic philosophy with a bright future. Given that comparative philosophy would also make that list, one might expect The Bodhisattva’s Brain to be a terrific book. And it is––sort of.

Flanagan’s project––applying the naturalist mindset to the ancient tradition of Buddhism––is a worthy one, but his approach hits home only sporadically. Like many writers trained in the Western analytic style, he often gets lost in abstruse discussions of terminology, unnecessary repetition, and insoluble quests for the murky origins of ideas, dispositions, and behaviors. Not all of these discursive moments are without value or philosophical merit, but none of them helps make The Bodhisattva’s Brain an inviting text for the reader. Here’s an example of just how needlessly confusing Flanagan can be:

"I sometimes use the terms enlightenment and awakening (bodhi) and wisdom (prajna; panna, Pali) interchangeably––often as enlightenment/wisdom. For parallelism, I use virtue/goodness, or just one or the other, to refer to a life of good conduct (sila), especially a life of great compassion (karuna), as well as a character that embodies eventually, the divine illimitables or abodes (Brahma-vihara), compassion, lovingkindness, sympathetic joy, and equanimity. Such a character would be a saint, an arahant, a bodhisattva, possibly a Buddha." (16, emphasis his)

This might not seem too complicated for specialists embedded in Buddhist lexicons, but it’s poorly written by any standard. As shown here, Flanagan often has trouble deciding exactly what words to use when describing situations, ideas, or qualities, so he often just sprays vocabulary across the page. I do not believe he does this indiscriminately, but will confess that I was often unable (or unwilling) to put in the work to follow the denser sections of this book. I simply didn’t feel like there was enough intellectual meat at stake. Flanagan is also fond of superscripting in order to identify different uses of the same word (e.g. happiness according to Aristotle vs. happiness according to Buddha). He makes a decent case for why superscripting is effective, but more often than not it comes off as merely annoying.

Despite these drawbacks, certain aspects of Buddhism are in dire need of naturalization, and Flanagan has more than enough tools for the job. Flanagan is roundly skeptical of fashionable claims that Buddhism leads to “greater happiness,” pointing out that we don’t even have a satisfactorily unified definition of what “happiness” means. His critique of individuals and organizations that seek to capitalize on the idea that practicing Buddhism will necessarily make people “better” is harsh and refreshing. We lack both the terminological consistency as well as the scientific apparatus to verify such claims:

"The tools we currently use are simply not powerful enough to yield fine-grained descriptions of the mental states of subjects that would enable us, for example, to say: “Look, there is the joy; there is the compassion. Notice how different the joy looks from bliss, and how compassion looks different from lovingkindness.” Combining various existing technologies, including doing assays of neurochemicals, might enable us to make such assertions afters studying large populations of subjects. But that is a long way off. Meanwhile the only meta-analysis that has been done so far on the good effects of Buddhist meditation on mental and physical health over the last fifty years (through 2002) by Ospina et al. (2007) for the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services claims that the results are inconclusive." (51)

Flanagan doesn’t reject the validity of using empirical observations to learn more about happiness and human flourishing, but merely cautions that we shouldn’t overstate the significance of preliminary findings:

"This sort of inquiry provides a truly exciting, unique, and heretofore unimagined opportunity for mind scientists, practitioners, and philosophers from different traditions to join together in a conversation that combines time-tested traditions with newfangled gadgetry to understand ourselves more deeply and to live well, better than we do now. On the other hand, we need to avoid overrating brain imagery and what it shows." (58)

Flanagan’s other main focus on the naturalization front is to expose and excise the mumbo-jumbo that still passes for good sense in some Buddhist circles and societies, leaving the practical core of the belief system relatively intact. He does a great job of breaking down and dismissing nonmaterial interpretations of consciousness, and pulls no punches when taking on the internal contradiction faced by Buddhists who believe in reincarnation:

"Most East Asian and Southeast Asian Buddhists I have asked believe in literal reincarnation where one’s soul, one’s atman, or a Buddhist facsimile of atman, enters different bodies depending on how one’s previous life has gone…The Dalai Lama has told me in a private audience that he doesn’t believe in reincarnation in this literal sense. This is good because the view is impossible to make sense of. The details of how reincarnation could even begin to work for a being that has no-self presents serious logical problems. Prior Indic religions as well as the Abrahamic traditions in the West have the resources, in virtue of believing that each person possesses an individual atman or soul, to make sense of reincarnation; Buddhism does not––at least not if the view involves me going on after I die." (131-2, emphasis his).

When stripped of indefensible metaphysical positions, Buddhism still has much to offer––arguably more than any other religious tradition, once naturalized. Flanagan’s comparative strategy is to contrast Buddhist notions of flourishing with Aristotelian ethics, which he does with much technical zeal but only intermittent success overall. Many of his comparative points disappear into byzantine rabbit holes, but others jump off the page with the raw intellectual force that often seduces young minds to devote themselves to philosophical endeavors. Here are some of my favorite examples:

"Suppose I have a great meal or a great sexual experience. It is over. I have good memories of the experience but I am disappointed that it is over. Why be disappointed? It was a good experience and now it is over. All good things come to an end. Things change, I change. That’s the nature of things. If I understand and accept this, my attitude to passing good experiences becomes more accepting. It is in the nature of the universe that all things myself included change. But I, this continuous being, had the experience. If it was good, I can revisit it in memory as often as I wish. That’s fine so long as I don’t make the mistake of wanting it again now, that exact same experience. Wanting in this way would involve a cognitive error, wishing for what is impossible: to possess what is in the past now, exactly as it was.

Or suppose I feel angry or guilty because I have been wronged or done wrong. In either case what is done is done, the bad act is in the past. I can clutch to its memory and remain furious or guilt-ridden. But why do that? Let it go with the aim of avoiding similar situations down the road. Remembering what went wrong so as to avoid similar mistakes is fine, but getting stuck in deep resentment or regret involves trying to hold to the now something that is in the then. It is a familiar fact that we can get a fair distance in screwing ourselves up trying to do this. But insofar as we succeed at undermining our own peace of mind, it is because we work to use our powerful memories to make what was then seem as if it is now, demanding that was is past now be just as it was then. This is what resentment is, grasping anger in order to feel it again. We are working to get memory to defeat time. Memory can’t in fact defeat time. But if we pull out the plugs it can seem to do so, and in seeming to do so it can, indeed it will, undermine the serenity and tranquility we sensibly seek. Letting go, not clutching to my self what is in the past, is made easier––in a therapeutic sort of way––if I possess two components of wisdom: first, there is understanding that I cannot defeat time because nothing can; second, there is understanding that the self that so tirelessly clings and clutches to what is over, despite seeming to be the selfsame self, isn’t. To think otherwise, and especially to hold what has disquieted my soul to my breast now is to try to work myself into something that I cannot be, a selfsame ego that can continue to hold in place now what is no longer there. What is it that is no longer there? Two things: the experience that I clutch and the self that had the experience." (125-6)

"Look, it is guaranteed that you are in flux and get to live amidst the flux. And it is good that you are now able to live in and appreciate the moment. But there is something wrong with your attitude. Your craving/attachment is too strong. This is probably caused by the fact that you still hold on to the illusion that you are a permanent thing that can somehow possess or appropriate the flux. You aren’t, so you can’t. Enjoy the flux, but stop trying to possess it." (129-30)

"Find some worthy goals and projects that suit you, and get fired up and passionate about them. Sure, work those projects from the here and now. Don’t get ahead of yourself. Delight in the small steps along the way. And don’t let the setbacks surprise or defeat you. But always remember, never forget, never lose sight of the fact that once you figure out what sort of worthy projects suit you, nothing less than the meaning of your life turns on doing your best to make them work out. Well, that and being as lovingkind and compassionate and unselfish as possible. Your job is to make sure you choose projects that do not diminish the prospects that when you die the story is one of a wise person who led, as far as possible, an excellent life. If you dedicate yourself to living wisely and compassionately and mindfully, then even if you, for some reason, miss out on knowing when and how the final chapter ends, we will rightly say that you led a good human life and flourished. If there were gods, they’d bless you. But there aren’t, so they won’t. But we, your fellows who remain alive and on our own personal journeys, will be grateful for who you were and how you were. You flourished, Buddhist style, and you increased our chances for doing the same." (162-3)

The common thread in these three passages is that they proffer wisdom without venturing too deeply into the particulars of Buddhism or any other philosophical/religious system of thought. They demonstrate not the intellectual products of a rigorous research project, but rather the dispositional effects of Buddhist thought on Flanagan’s body-mind. If a naturalized form of Buddhism has a major role to play in humanity’s future––as I believe it does––then this is perhaps its most precious gift: Not a set of rules for “virtuous” conduct or a lecture on humanity’s innate flaws and how to overcome them, but the transmission of a path, a way of facing suffering and mortality that eschews illusion and celebrates affection, enjoyment, and acceptance.

This review was originally published on my blog, words&dirt.

[Alessandro Veneri · Rating 4 out of 5]

Is there any underlying, testable truth in the claim that Buddhism generates happy people? I lived with Buddhists for several months. They seemed happy. The point is, even patients who take homeopaths report to feel good, and that does not prove homeopaths to be effective. The power of positive belief has to be examined and weighted when tackling such complicate questions about ‘happiness’, even more if we acknowledge that happiness has many facets, and c is at too an early stage to be able to distinguish between different happiness feelings.

Self-deceiving myself and uncovering its mechanisms has ben largely instructive. This is why I judge extremely interesting that Buddhism itself regards false beliefs (moha, delusion) as morally wrong, an obstacle toward enlightenment. The Dalai Lama itself summoned Buddhist epistemology in those terms: "Buddhism accords greatest authority to experience, with reason second, and scripture last". Such affirmation may give naturalists a legitimate hope to engage in a fruitful conversation with Buddhism. Considering the adaptive nature of religions, it is not crazy at all to sketch out how a Buddhism naturalised ought to be.

There is a caveat, though: karmic causation. Karmic causation can be understood as the set of causations produced by sentient beings, both intrapersonally and interpersonally. Problems with reconciling karmic causation and ordinary causation may emerge when Buddhists, as it seems from both Flanagan’s thorough explanation and widely-known Buddhist concepts, introduce the following theses:

1. That the emergence of sentience was somehow planned in advance;
2. That human consciousness is of a different ontological type than natural laws are.

Flanagan generously gives two possible exits from the impasse, a ‘tame’ and an ‘untame’ one: the tame interpretation is to consider the ‘law of karma, by which an intentional act will reap certain fruits’ as a subtype of ordinary causation, pertaining specifically to sentient beings, which would give the conceptual framework of moral sciences.

The less tame interpretation is to consider karmic causation as ontologically independent, the metaphysical force that frees the stream of consciousness from the body and produces future, morally-charged causes; doing so constitutes a soteriological theory of rebirth. It strengthens Buddhist ethics, providing a hint of ‘hidden causality’ behind the randomness of Darwinian evolution and related potential threats to the meaning of life; it cannot although be supported within a scientific framework.

Buddhism wants to keep open an ontological question of consciousness, although scientific evidence is overwhelmingly against such hypotheses.

So far, so good. To reach the point of what Buddhism can teach us about happiness, a thorough examination would point out how Buddhism is essentially eudaemonic.According to Flanagan, following Buddhist moral principles might, not necessarily, cause happiness, specifically a kind of happiness which is rightly pointed out as happiness[Buddha], to distinguish it from happiness of the [happy-happy/joy-joy/click-your heels] or [hedonistic] sort.

The most interesting claim from Buddhism is that its metaphysics would necessarily imply a set of moral values, and that by working around those values, the eudaeimon would reach content and happiness. The metaphysics revolves around a narrative of ontological impermanence, both of the natural world and the alleged ‘self’. Such Heraclitean universe would imply a non-strict concept of personal identity, much as Locke has asserted. How does such conception contribute to reduce suffering (dukkha, the impossibility of satisfying all desires)? Recognising impermanence of things could make me feel better about losing a loved one; embracing the impermanence of self may come in hand to let go of afflictions buy seeing that they don’t belong to me anymore, because I am now a somewhat different person that I was when I originated them. This is the Buddhist receipt, to be discovered through wisdom (scripture) and experience (meditation), for alleviating suffering.

Buddhism proves to be a useful therapeutic mean. But Flanagan rightly argues that there is no logical connection between gaining the wisdom of being a selfless person and being moral. Plato himself wasn’t able to explain why a man who managed to exit the cave should go back and rescue his peers, instead of rejoicing his conquered virtues. True, Buddhism is a deep psychology that aims at changing human behaviour from the very roots, it is a practical set of moral principles stemmed from metaphysical laws to overcome earthly suffering; its metaphysical foundations are nevertheless clueless in providing moral outcomes by logical arguments. Thinking of oneself as selfless could equally likely produce a selfish, take-all attitude. To act selflessly in a generous way, one would therefore be motivated to the degree that a precedent inclination to link ontological selflessness and unselfishness was in place.

Again, if a selfless ontology may at most provide some psychologically fertile ground for the flourishing of morality, happiness is not a logical consequence. Rooting Buddhist eudaemonia in wisdom, virtue and mindfulness - none of which are exclusively normative - doesn’t imply happiness as a necessary outcome. A normative exclusionary clause is further needed: happiness is worthy and ‘true’ only if it is attained through moral principles, and not by taking a magic pill, for example.

Buddhism is very useful in prospecting a rich eudaemonistic theory, characterised by compassion and focused on individual flourishing, which would positively affect cascade-like interpersonal relationships. In such view, selflessness prospects flourishing only to those who embrace a nonindifferent attitude and choose to make life a worthwhile, fulfilling project.

There is more. Following the eudaemonistic path, and accepting that virtue is the sole source of happiness with the exclusionary clause previously mentioned, Buddhism is not the only available option. How can we tell which virtue is the right one? It is widely recognised that virtues are psychologically useful and therefore real, but are nevertheless inclinations, not independent things. Virtues are ecologically sensible, so it is important to recognise that virtues could be evaluated only if we somehow define a broad and general concept of ‘True Happiness’ and proceed to examine different virtue variables. Furthermore, anachronism and ethnocentrism are somehow unavoidable, so any presented conception would be biased in this way, and can never be addressed as from “the point of view of nowhere”.

Liberal commonsense morality is extremely cautious from deliberating any shared vision of what a good life should be. It is so much simpler and less demanding than Aristotelian ethics. Aristotelian ethics is equally eudaemonistic, and claims that empirically, virtue is a reliable cause of happiness. Such reasoning would be valid if we insert the previous exclusionary clause, and say that happiness would not be valid if it stems from false beliefs or shortcuts, with a further warning toward self-indulgent talk of morally chauvinistic nature.

Aristotle is more inclined toward justice, reason and right action, whereas Buddhism places paramount importance to compassion and loving-kindness. Both morals address the fellow-feeling aspects of human nature as necessary - which were now in turn recently availed by evolutionary research - with Buddhism being much more emphatic on feelings of compassion and magnanimity. Buddhism advances that jealous rage, for example, although efficacious in evolutionary terms, should nevertheless be tamed, for when expressed it influences one’s mental state in a stressful way, with possible counterproductive outcomes. As this last example illustrates, Buddhism could be considered as slightly more demanding than Aristotelian ethics, but still feasible.

Ethics cannot produce a single, undoubtable theorem for living a good life. It has never done so, and it probably never will. Nevertheless, any attempt at deconstructing different morals is fruitful, for it brings new elements to the ethical draft we are constantly called upon sketching. Buddhism as such does not extinguish the rationally thirsty of why, given the impermanence of everything, compassion should be preferable to hedonism. A cosmopolitan view of the matter doesn't allow us to settle for any single traditional way of living a good life; it does however enjoy the process of looking into ancient wisdoms for useful advances in the project of human flourishing. The very fact that there is no true answer, is at least a clear hint of Buddhist style.

[Shaul Solomon · Rating 4 out of 5]

The second half is much better than the first, but the first half is important as it established the ground work for his argument.

My recommendation is to start reading the first half until it feels too repetitive and then go and read the whole second half.

Overall, very very happy that I read it.

[Billie Pritchett · Rating 5 out of 5]

UPDATED REVIEW: Saturday, November 12, 2022 (five stars)

Owen Flanagan's Bodhisattva's Brain is a book that rewards rereading. He seeks to examine Buddhism as a philosophy, stripped of all the supernatural elements, to see how well it could fare as an alternative to predominant Western systems of belief. In the process, he finds and renders a plausible account of the nature of reality and the self as well as a plausible ethical theory.

In Buddhism, everything real is viewed as in process and impermanent. This jibes well with a Western-scientific account of reality. Although commonsensically we take this world to be composed of things, scientifically a view of a fluctuating world is more likely: everything is wavering particles in force fields. And as for the impermanence of the constituents of the world, it is widely attested by the best scientific theories that the universe had an origin and it will have an ending. Taking that plus the fluctuating view of the nature of entities, Buddhist metaphysics does not seem far off the mark.

Likewise with the self. Buddhists see the human being as a "selfless person." We are persons in that we have this first-person phenomenology of transitory states but we are selfless in the sense that there is nothing permanent or eternal behind the flux. So claims science too.

Regarding ethics, while Flanagan sees value in the perspective provided by Buddhism, he does find it lacking in comparison with some Western conceptions. Buddhist morality emphasizes a set of virtues like compassion, lovingkindness, sympathetic joy. These virtues are nowhere in the Western tradition and are probably the worse for it. However, broader moral conceptions like justice and fairness seldom get addressed in the Buddhist tradition, and Flanagan views this as a deficiency.

Flanagan's book is not perfect by any means. In fact, I think that some of the attempts to separate the philosophy of Buddhism from Buddhism as a religion, including the more supernatural elements, might ultimately fail. When separated from religion and tradition, Buddhism is a loose aggregate of beliefs that don't hang together well. Flanagan sometimes seems to acknowledge this. For instance, he points out that he doesn't see how rejecting the metaphysical belief that there is no self entails selfless behavior. The answer is it doesn't, and the connection between one sense of self and the other is merely homonymous.

Furthermore, I should add that having some experience with, family members among them, non-Western practitioners of Buddhism, none of them I personally know currently accept or would accept a Buddhism divorced of such religious conceptions as destiny, reincarnation, karma, and so on.

Despite these criticisms, Flanagan's book has been and will continue to be a work I return to time and again for its provocation of thought.

ORIGINAL REVIEW: July 14, 2018 (five stars)

Owen Flanagan's Bodhisattva's Brain is a great book that examines Buddhism as a philosophy, without any of the other supernatural or religious aspects. The benefit of this is seeing what is good and valuable in the Buddhist tradition, and what to make of the claims that Buddhism/meditation make you happier. There's much to be learned, I think, from viewing Buddhism as a philosophy, and I think most readers will find pieces that will resonate with their worldview or will allow readers to reformulate their worldview in view of reading about Buddhism. One of my new favorite books.

[Will L · Rating 4 out of 5]

What I particularly appreciate about this book is the way it portrays Buddha as a kind of soul doctor or a therapist of desire. To change a mind, your own or somebody else's, takes a lot more than mere ratiocination. Meditation fits in here as a means of attuning the heart-mind towards compassion. But meditation is just one method; art in general can be a means of heart-transformation, and that's one of the reasons why its importance should never be downplayed by people who want to change the world.

[Zack · Rating 4 out of 5]

only read the second half

[Laurence Heywood · Rating 5 out of 5]

A lot of confused reviewers here. Some points to help them in their difficulties:

'Naturalising' (sic - I do not use American English, but actual English) Buddhism is not a project original to Flanagan. Read Stephen Batchelor, for example, but the project is as old as the hills, and, indeed, is part of the Mahayana tradition itself.

The doctrines of karma and reincarnation (metempsychosis) predate Buddhism by millennia. They form part of the Indus valley culture complex. The idea that they are quintessentially Buddhist notions is straightforwardly false. Buddhism first occurs within a culture permeated by these ideas.

The idea that, for the Mahayana, reincarnation is unsustainable cultural bagage, is not at all new. When there is no essential self, who or what transmigrates? Who or what holds such concerns? The reforming shift to anatman threw up insurmountable and blisteringly obvious difficulties for the doctrines both of karma and reincarnation. The generations of thinkers, practitioners and masters who were the inheritors of those reforms were not intellectually incapable.

Yet, differences in our capacities to appreciate the dharma still appear to require explanation, to us at least. For this purpose, the philosophically otiose doctrines of karma and reincarnation linger on, part of the penumbra of less than entirely rational ideas that form the outer layers of Buddhist thinking. Gods, demi-gods, nagas, all manner of spirits and nymphs, drawn from the seven heavens and seven hells, and from the fifteen planes, to attend the words of the tathagata, and all other denizens of minds yet to pierce the philosophical core of the onion of Buddhism form its culturally accessible outer layers. So too, karma and reincarnation.

[Caitlin Turner · Rating 5 out of 5]

Buddhism and western philosophy have so much to offer one another, especially when scientific plausibility is added to the mix. Flanagan, a western philosopher, does a great job starting a desperately needed conversation between traditions. I eagerly await a Buddhist practitioner's response to this book as well as further rigorous study of Buddhism by scientifically-minded westerners.

The writing is very analytic philosophy, with plenty of definitional precision. My husband and I, both engineers, found the writing perfectly natural and easy to follow, but I can see how some might consider it dry or excessively detailed.

[Charles Anderson · Rating 3 out of 5]

Despite the interesting subject matter, I found the author's writing style very abstruse. His need to qualify every statement, to hedge every conclusion with parenthetical clauses, made reading slow and unsatisfying.

I believe the book was based on earlier essays, and I think this shows up in a tendency for chapters to repeat material from earlier ones. The whole book could usefully have been considerably shorter.

[Thomas Zegray · Rating 2 out of 5]

Reminds me as a child of being punished and told to write one hundred times....I will not be or do whatever. The repetition is of course boring so you speed things up by making columns of I I I I Will will will.... enough said. I got the point the author was trying to get across but the boring repetitive way it is written turned me off and away.....

[Craig Dove · Rating 3 out of 5]

I always appreciate Flanagan's work, but this was a little drier than I had anticipated (not that I don't appreciate some good old fashion analytic philosophy!).
What is the connection, if any, between wisdom, virtue, and happiness? Unclear.

[MJD · Rating 5 out of 5]

I like the skeptical take that the author uses to write about the subject. A must read for anyone interesting in Buddhism as a secular philosophy.

[Thomas Baker · Rating 2 out of 5]

Very academic and overly explanatory. After 33 pages I gave up, because I could not figure out how this idea would take 179 more pages to explain.

[Adam Piontek · Rating 4 out of 5]

I found Flanagan's writing clear and enjoyable, and his exploration of Buddhism from a naturalist philosopher's perspective rather elucidating. I particularly found it enlightening to find that I did not like when he calls to question whether Buddhist epistemology necessarily leads to Buddhist-style ethics, because I want to believe they do, but that's not very Buddhist of me, to be so attached to the believe that there can and should be an "ought" that everyone can find their way to. It's also not very "me," in that I actually believe people can be such different phenomena in the world that not everyone *can* "find their way" to the same solutions -- for example, the Buddhist "solution" to living is going to work better for someone of average mental health than for someone who struggles with the sort of chemically/physically-based depression or other psychological situations that some people struggle with.

I still feel that there's something missing in Flanagan's work, something I can't put my finger on about a "correct" view of anatman/no-self and its link with compassion. He does allow for the possibility that compassion should come up just because we happen to be the sort of beings for whom compassion and social engagement makes us flourish better -- and I think that's true -- but he's correct to point out that isn't the Buddhist argument. It should be added to the Buddhist argument, but it isn't it. I guess I think part of the reason a "correct perception" of impermanence and no-self should generally lead to compassion is that, usually, human beings who seek enlightenment are, to some degree, interested in alleviating some suffering, or dealing with some pain, and a certain understanding of impermanence and no-self can (should?) engender self-compassion, self-forgiveness, self-kindness and gratitude which can then be easily directed outward to others. One should, theoretically, not jump to sadness and nihilism because, I think, the idea of impermanence and an understanding of the origins and causes of "dukkha" is intended to be a *relief.* This relief allows us to be kinder to ourselves, and then to others.

In any case, I highly recommend this book to anyone with an interest in Buddhism and philosophy, especially those who lean "agnostic or atheist or naturalist" or what-have-you when it comes to spirituality or religion.

[Luke · Rating 4 out of 5]

Buddhism Naturalized has as its premise Buddhism shorn of the supernatural.

The start of the book opens with a discussion of the Dalai Llama's interest in science. No surprise a man who wishes to have the support of the US to impose a backwards looking theocracy in Tibet seeks to align himself with the US empirical tradition as far as possible.

After the opening guff, the book is broadly divided into two parts, epistemology and ethics. The Buddhist theory of knowledge is pretty interesting. The ethics is a bit dull.

I thought the most interesting part was tying the Buddhist concept of Anatman (not-self) i.e. a state of impermanent identity with that of Heraclitus' world in flux. If you understood that previous sentence, you are probably at the level of familiarity with philosophy you will need to understand this book. It is not an easy read and despite being only 250 pages, feels oddly over-long at times.

The ethics part takes one question as its starting point- are Buddhists happy than non-Buddhists? It then gets waffly. Conceptions of happiness differ we are told. Well, I never would have suspected that. Buddhist ethics are viewed as a virtue theory, with Eudaimonia as the goal. Buddhist virtues are then contrasted with traditional Aristotelian (heroic Greek) virtues with the view that Eastern i.e. including Buddhist cultures prioritize compassion over justice. There are digressions for pages about how happiness is difficult to quantify (indeed, we would need to reduce it to numbers to do so) which ultimately do not serve much purpose. I would have preferred to read more about applied ethics within Buddhist societies but I suppose that is less philosophy and more cultural studies. Buddhist political philosophy does not seem to exist, or at least is not discussed within the book. I did not feel I learned much more about Buddhist ethics beyond a very general "Eastern guys don't like to rock the boat", and have a big emphasis on compassion, which is a shame, because I would quite liked to have read about how Buddhism managed to be so popular as a proselytizing religion despite being non-militaristic.

[Ian Varley · Rating 4 out of 5]

A steady, thoughtful treatise on what it means, both in the world and in the brain, to be happy, and to flourish. The focus is on wisdom traditions (particularly Buddhism) and what they have to say on the matter. The conclusion, generally, is that there's a lot of epistemically sound and useful stuff in the Buddhist tradition, and that we could all learn a thing or two; but, just as importantly, we shouldn't take the whole thing hook, line, and sinker; nor should we assume that claims of neuro-scientific correlations of happiness and the brain states of Buddhist meditators be taken at face value, because we can't begin to have the framework whereby that kind of "proof" would be valid and universal.

Its down-side is that it's only marginally readable, chock full of sentences like: "We see that X and Y or X and Z, or, what is different, Z, X and Y, are ...". I know this is common in philosophy books, and it's fine to trudge through it; but the fact of the matter is, a good editor could cut through this nonsense and make something much more readable to the uninitiated. Maybe that's not a goal, but if it's not, that's problematic in itself; it keeps these important musings and thoughts inside the clubhouse. I'm not arguing for Gladwell-esque dumbing down; just a sensible ridding of the most egregious professor-speak.

On the whole, though, it definitely gave me a lot of food for thought; specifically, a lot of fascinating angles on the connections between meditation / compassion / brain activity / flourishing. If those are things you care about, read this.

[Daniel Silveyra · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book discusses an area close to that of Alain de Botton's book on religion for atheists.

However, this is NOT a book for the casual reader. Flanagan, a Philosophy of Mind professor at Duke, states that his intended audience is other philosophers.

This is not a journal article, however. Although the subject matter can get quite dense, Flanagan's prose is mostly lucid. After a passage where he makes formal philosophical arguments he will always summarize at a high-level and in layman's terms.

Still, it's not light reading.

The main themes of the book are:

1) What's the deal with those pop-sci claims that meditating Buddhists are happier than average?
2) Different philosophical traditions have different conceptions of happiness, and that has implications on the neuroscience of happiness research agenda.
3) What would Buddhism look like if you took out anything that is inconsistent with science?
4) Would the resulting "naturalized" Buddhism be a good livable philosophy?

If you're interested in those things, this is a great book to read.

[Steve · Rating 4 out of 5]

If you want to dive deep into a scientific analysis of Buddhism this is the book for you. That said it is not a history or an encyclopedia on Buddhism generally. Rather its goal is to analyze if Buddhism provides a coherent scientific psychology that can reliably open a doorway into a happier life.
This is a dense book. My first read through failed. My second attempt was more successful and valuable while taking notes and reading more slowly.
If you are looking for a more introductory book perhaps look elsewhere.
The author attempts to strip Buddhism of its non-rational elements and then sifts through the remains to see if there is a psychology, philosophy and epistemology that is not only valid, but can genuinely propel someone along a path to human flourishing.
Reading slowly enough, with comprehension, makes this a 4 or 5 star book. It may take a few tries though and a prior understanding of some of the elements of Buddhism and some prior understanding of meditation may help.

[Elias · Rating 4 out of 5]

This is a book by an analytic philosopher, one who would generally be expected to be unsympathetic to Buddhist spirituality, who nonethless finds much that is philosophically interesting in Buddhism. (I also teach philosophy and agree with this.) Flanagan makes clear that he has no interest in the superstitious side of Buddhism (e.g., the gods and goddesses of Tibetan Buddhism) but shows that even if one dismisses those elements, Buddhism has much to teach Western philosophers.

I recommend this book for those interested in philosophy (real philosophy, not what is popularly called philosophy) and also wants to explore Buddhism. Or perhaps someone steeped in Buddhism who wants to see how it relates to mainstream Western philosophical issues.

[Delany · Rating 4 out of 5]

It's good: A dispassionate analysis of Buddhist philosophy and practice and its connection (or not) to happiness; this requires, of course, extensive discussion both of Buddhism and of "happiness." The book does get tedious, even for someone with an academic background in philosophy; I admit that I read some lengthy chunks of it but just skimmed my way through long sections, as well. The author's conclusion is that the practice of Buddhism, shorn of supernatural claptrap, certainly can (but does not necessarily) lead to a good life, eudaimonia, flourishing, and/or "happiness" as conventionally conceived. It's a fairly long walk through the woods to get to this equivocal conclusion, but I enjoyed it.

[Daniel Toker · Rating 4 out of 5]

Flanagan's The Bodhisattva's Brain introduces a wonderful new idea to academic philosophy: comparative neurophilosophy. This is required reading for anybody who is seriously engaged in neurophilosophy. Plenty others will find something in Flanagan's treatment of the philosophy of happiness, his exposition of Buddhist beliefs and philosophy, and his honest and largely successful attempt to offer us a Buddhism that is fully consistent with a scientific worldview.

That said, this is a very academic book and some readers will find his exposition both dry and lengthy. If you're looking for a similar but simpler and more engaging book, I'd recommend Sam Harris's Waking Up: A Guide To Spirituality Without Religion.

[David Teachout · Rating 5 out of 5]

Brilliant in its analysis, stunning in its implications and utterly humble in its conclusions. There is true rarity in an author who ends his book with "maybe." This testifies not to Flanagan's inability to understand what he's talking about, that clearly isn't the case, but to his commitment to real scientific inquiry and objective consideration. "Maybe" is not laziness, it's honest appraisal. If you want a book that gives you answers, this isn't it. If you want a book that gives better tools to analyze how happiness is being discussed and researched, better tools to understand how Buddhism and philosophy can contribute to a happier life, then this is most certainly the book for you.

[Wing · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book describes Buddhist philosophy as a treatise on eudaimonia . It does a particularly good job in explaining why the concept of Impermanence is consistent with personhood, at least a Lockean or a Heraclitean version of it. The emphasis that virtues and happiness, whilst plausibly interconnected, are themselves polysemous is a recurring theme. Ultimately philosophical claims need to be psychologically valid and empirically robust. A very great read even for a die-hard theists like me. Four stars.

[John · Rating 4 out of 5]

Provides a solid analysis of the "naturalistic" tenets of Buddhism, that is Buddhism without the supernatural enhancements. To me it is further evidence that the beneficial impact of religion (yes there is such a thing) is its emphasis on the communal interest and the damage done by selfish or ego-centric behavior.

The structure of the book is a bit meandering and it is somewhat long-winded at times. A 40 page version could have provided the same value, for me at least.

[Albert · Rating 3 out of 5]

Flanagan was an engaging guest on the Partially Examined Life podcast, where he discussed this book. The project of naturalizing Budhism is mixed up with poorly argued / opinionated philosophy of mind, a reach to match this up with Aristotelian eudaimonia, and a lot of appeals to neuroscientific authority. The no-self link to Heraclitus and the dis positional view of reality were the most illuminating sections for me.

[Ellison · Rating 4 out of 5]

A clear examination of the philosophical/ethical basis of Buddhism written by a serious (but not quite deadly serious) Philosophy Professor from Duke who gained some fame/notoriety years ago by writing an article about how MRI's of Buddhist monks showed that they might be happier than most. He walks back from this (or elaborates on it) by examining what happiness might be and how Buddhism might lead to it.