An essay on the bridging of science and spirituality
In this (as yet hypothetical)
situation, what type of conversation would take place if Richard Dawkins sat
down for a couple of hours to discuss the nature of reality with Eckhart Tolle?
From the outset, this meeting is unlikely to take place, because Dawkins revels
in debate and challenging dialogue, wherein sharp thinking is given lofty
status, and the mind with all its cognitive faculties and abilities is revered
as the apex of human achievement – and ultimately, where scientists are lauded
the special status of being the only people who are in the position to view the
world through rational eyes.
To enlightened spiritual masters
such as Tolle on the other hand, the thinking mind has long been relegated to
the lowly position of an unruly and mischievous monkey – a capricious tool,
which is sometimes useful but far more often dysfunctional and destructive. For
Tolle, a Cambridge scholar and thus no stranger to intellectual musing,
mastering the mind needs to be an overarching priority if humans are to stand
any chance of using it as a force for good, and to stop the ensuing destruction
of the earth. He might offer the insight that being a human is great in spite
of thinking, not because of it.
To me, the nature of such a union
is intriguing because, when it comes to science and spirituality, I have one
foot squarely in each camp. I studied biology at Oxford, where I had lectures
in the same building, in fact, that Dawkins studied zoology in the early 1960s.
To me and my classmates back then, Dawkins was exalted to demigod status (his
masterpiece The selfish Gene was, of
course, a key book on the reading list) and, even though I only saw Dawkins
once during my time there, his name and reputation gave sense to a hallowed
presence, haunting the corridors of the zoology department with stirrings of visionary
scholarship and brilliance. The one time
I did see him – walking down the corridor from the canteen – I was frozen in
time, star struck, like one might be if meeting Darwin or Einstein. To this
day, I still respect Dawkins for his genuine love of science, for his
unpretentiousness when discussing it, and – above all – for striving to engage
the public by simplifying and beautifying
the promulgation of science so it can be understood and cherished by all –
scientist and layman alike. I think Dawkins truly embraces Einstein’s dictum
‘if you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough’ – and I’m
sure that Dawkins would be the first to rail against the habit of many
scientists to write in convoluted and ivory-tower language. In light of all this,
Dawkins was appointed Simonyi professor for the public understanding of
science.
After leaving university I, for
one reason or another, became interested in spirituality of the secular kind,
e.g. Buddhism, Taoism and Zen. Needless to say (but just to clarify) when I
talk of spirituality here I am not referring in any way to religion. Useful as
religious practice might be to foster a sense of community, I see religion and
spirituality as diametrically opposed, for the simple reason that spiritual
truth grows in accordance with one’s lack of belief. Or in other words, and as
Eckhart Tolle might say, the best spiritual practices are those which require
the fewest number of beliefs, since spirituality in its purest form is about
accepting facts, living in reality, and realising the truth. By definition then,
it would be an oxymoron to state that you believe
in the truth, just as it would if you said that you believe in the law of gravity or that the earth orbits the sun. Incidentally,
this is why Buddha spoke it negative
terms about the nature of reality (i.e. what it isn’t) so that people couldn’t
build mental concepts around it; the Buddha being aware of the seductive belief-forming
tendencies of the mind. And similarly, therefore, the Tao Te Ching begins with the immortal words ‘The Tao that can be
spoken of is not the true Tao’. If you’ve read any teachings by the late Krishnamurti,
you might be aware of his fondness to recite the following story to
differentiate spirituality from religion:
The devil and his accomplice were
walking down the road one day and ahead of them on the path they saw a man bend
down and pick up something. ‘’What did he pick up’’? the accomplice asked. ‘’He
picked up the truth’’, the devil replied. ‘’Oh, that must be very bad business
for you’’ the accomplice cautioned. ‘’Not at all’’, the devil retorted, ‘’I’m
going to help him to organise it’’.
With this distinction in mind,
let it also be known that another dead end of sorts would be to study spirituality in an academic
manner. Since thinking is largely incompatible with spiritual experience, some
Zen masters might jokingly counsel you to put such spiritual texts to good use
– by either throwing them into the fire or by using them as a doorstop. So
then, just so that we are on the same page, spirituality is about living an
actualised state of being, not about
concepts and beliefs, and the analogy Eckhart Tolle uses is to say that you
could do a PhD on honey without ever having tasted it. Spirituality is about
tasting the honey!
With this logic and scepticism
then, I was happy to stumble upon Eckhart Tolle’s book The power of Now in 2004, a year after leaving university. Since
that serendipitous moment, I have been an avid fan of Tolle’s work – which now
includes books, audiobooks, meditations, seminars, and talks/interviews which
are freely available on YouTube. In a similar way to Dawkins, I respect Tolle
for the beautiful simplicity with which he gets the spiritual message across.
Furthermore, I appreciate the way Tolle tackles questions with the precision of
a master logician; able to distil ideas which are usually shrouded in a web of
philosophical narrative into simple facts, or the truth. Coming full circle, it
is possible to see that spiritual truth and logic are one and the same. ‘‘That
the present moment is the only time that exists is a fact that even the best
philosophers couldn’t argue against’’, Tolle has said. Indeed, to become a
spiritual master, you really need to be able to be rational and logical – the
hallmarks, ironically, of a good scientist (N.B. all true spiritual masters
fully accept scientific facts such as evolution and climate change and, perhaps
paradoxically, have one thing in common – they have the mental acuity of the
sharpest scientist). The Buddha was, perhaps, one of the first genius
scientists to walk the earth. He arrived at his realisations not through
mystical revelation, but through methodological, dialectical, logical
questioning - and a deep (but compassionate) scepticism as to the nature of the
mind. The Buddha said:
‘’Wise
men don’t accept my words just because they are the words of the Buddha, simply
out of reverence for me, but just as a goldsmith would test the gold through
various procedures and then finally make a judgement, similarly accept the
validity of my statements only after you have subjected them to analysis and
investigation’’.
I see Tolle as a Yoda figure,
with a deep humanity and a witty sense of humour – and whose voice and
teachings have an unrivalled power (in my experience) of being able to
encourage people to sink into the sacredness of the present moment.
Several years after reading The
Power of Now, I happened to get a job working with a lady in Glastonbury,
England, who used to holiday in a B&B which was adjoined to where Tolle was
living at the time in Glastonbury back in the early 1990s. Fascinated that I
should be working with someone who met Tolle, I asked lots of questions about
him. The one thing that stood out was my colleague’s recollection that whenever
Tolle popped round for a cup of tea, all the cats in the B&B would
gravitate towards him and jump on his lap as if drawn by a Jedi-like force.
Eager to learn more, one day me and a friend walked up to where Tolle had
lived. To our surprise, one of his old neighbours was still living there, and
he was happy to regale us with stories of Tolle, which - sensing that my friend
and I were on a pilgrimage of sorts and geared up like ‘number 1 fans’ in a
spiritual mosh pit - spiralled into a funny Monty Python-esq satirical ramble
on the shortcomings of Tolle as a neighbour and as a human being.
‘’He would bang away on that old
type-writer of his all day long’’, his old neighbour lamented. ‘’God knows what he was typing’’. ‘’He
would drive a Lada car’’, he went on, ‘’that let down the tone of the entire
neighbourhood… he wasn’t much of a gardener either – he went to the garden
centre once to buy a shrub, but he didn’t realise that he’d bought a tree and
it grew to be 30 feet high!’’ Sighs… ‘’I went to Findhorn once, don’t see the
point of all that presence stuff these days. What’s the use of it? It doesn’t
help to pay the mortgage!’’.
I don’t think I’ve ever laughed
so much in my life. We were sure Tolle’s old neighbour was playing the Devil’s
advocate and imbuing his (undoubtedly loving memories) with a heavy dose of
British slapstick humour for our amusement. Either that, or perhaps the guy
really didn’t get the point of Tolle’s teachings – teachings, in fact, which
emerged in that very house atop that windswept hill in the magical vale of
Avalon, and which went on to become the seminal book on practical, secular
spirituality. To this day, I don’t know.
So, what then, is the point of
this article? A meeting between Dawkins and Tolle would be a symbolic union
between science and spirituality. A big question has emerged in the first years
of this new millennium whether these two worlds can be bridged? What is the
role of science, and what is the role of spirituality, in human existence?
Where do science and spirituality intersect, where do they diverge, or (as
alluded to before) are they really that different at all? This question is
being posed by many people, including author Greg Braden and the team at Sacred
Science, and a prominent debate took place between Deepak Chopra and Leonard
Mlodinow which culminated in a co-authored book ‘War of the Worldviews, Where Science and Spirituality Meet – And Do Not’.
A debate even took place between Deepak Chopra and Richard Dawkins in 2013 in
Pueblo, Mexico, but this didn’t fare so well since Dawkins and Chopra seem to
antagonise each other to the hilt.
The Dawkins / Chopra feud dates
back to at least 2007 when Dawkins interviewed Chopra for his documentary
called (undeclared and unbeknownst to Chopra) ‘Enemies of
Reason’. The uncut and edited versions of the interview were markedly different
and Chopra was justified in complaining that Dawkins had ‘played God in the
editing room’. Since then, the battle raged on for the best part of a decade
and has become emblematic of the rising tensions between the orthodox
scientific establishment and a new wave of scientists, such as Chopra, who wish
to see science embrace free, open and undogmatic inquiry. In an odd way, the war
of worldviews between Dawkins and Chopra harks back to a colonial past – Chopra’s
ideas being informed by the wellspring of the spiritual traditions of India,
and Dawkins being somewhat a caricature of a dusty Victorian relic from the Age of Enlightenment – very British,
very stubborn, and slightly at odds with modern culture so much so that you
could picture him feeling far more at home having an after-dinner pipe with
H.G.Wells or Alfred Russel Wallace, or nosediving into a satirical and detached
book by P.G Wodehouse, rather than face the incongruities and banalities of the
modern age. In a twist of irony, the Age of real Enlightenment
started in India, and at least 2,000 years before the intellectual Age of
Enlightenment of Europe. To this end, scientific and spiritual enlightenment
are both about truth – be it an outer one and inner one, respectively. As Carl
Jung said, ‘’when we look outward we dream, when we look inward we awaken’’. In
this way, science, which has been gazing outward for hundreds of years, has
become lost in a dream. And it needs spirituality to help it look inward and
awaken to its full potential.
What if Dawkins met Tolle, instead of Chopra? I’m sure the
dialogue would be more genial, grounded, and even constructive. However, in my
satirical mind’s eye, I envisage that the crux of the conversation would amount
to this impasse:
Dawkins: ‘’Amazing! One day
scientists will discover the origin of the universe!’’
Tolle: ‘’Oh. Very well. Remember
to do your laundry and to take out the trash’’.
Thus, in a very Zen way, Tolle
might remind Dawkins that scientific discovery and intellectual wizardry don’t
add much to the essential experience of being a human being. One way to
understand the satirical angle I take (on this meeting between Dawkins and
Tolle) is to keep in mind that science is just a part of the human story – a
human story which is around 200,000 years old, within a life history on earth
dating back 3.5 billion years, within a universe 15 billion years old. Like
Russian Dolls. And, all this within a cosmic story which is, perhaps, timeless.
To this extent, I wholeheartedly include in the definition of ‘secular
spirituality’ anything that pertains to a deep respect and union for the
sacredness of the earth and the wonder of the cosmos – whether that be
shamanism (past and present), indigenous wisdom traditions, the Yogic and
meditative traditions of the Indian subcontinent, certain branches of
mysticism, and even texts of the Bible or other holy books which encourage
direct insight and revelation of the divine within
(such as the banned Gnostic texts) as opposed to seeking the divine without - as prescribed by orthodox religion.
The question is, what kind of human story best serves humanity and the earth? And, thus, what kind of human
story do we choose to regulate scientific discourse? - remembering that science
is only an aspect of the human story, not the other way around, and that
scientific and technological progress make no sense if they come at the cost of
human peace and ecological sustainability.
For a couple of hundred years,
science (and by science, I mean the
orthodox, materialist paradigm of science Dawkins is associated with) has been
proudly and steadfastly extricating itself from anything seen as decidedly unscientific;
be it religion, the supernatural, the immeasurable, unobservable and
unfalsifiable, and even the spiritual. Emerging from thousands of years of
magic, voodoo and intellectual squalor, science raises the human mind above the
wasteland of human ignorance and delusion to become the only bastion of hope
for understanding the universe in a rational and objective way – or so someone
like Dawkins might have us believe.
But as orthodox science has tried
to wriggle free in this way, I would argue it has ended up getting itself caught
in a Boa-Knot of stubbornness at the event horizon of discovery, only to wind
itself into a tighter and tighter space – refusing to acknowledge the
possibility that science needs the transcendent, or even just less dogma. As
many ‘radical’ scientists hope, a new era of unshackled, open and truly rational scientific inquiry will
see the bridging of science and spirituality. As the scientific genius and
lifelong agnostic Charles P. Steinmetz is purported to have said, ‘’the greatest
scientists of the future will be those who chart and explore Spiritual Laws’’.
And Steinmetz, when asked what branch of science would make most progress in
the future, replied ‘’spiritual realization’’. This was in the early 20th
century, and it has taken a hundred years or so for this to even begin to come
to pass. Within this time, however, other scientific geniuses spoke out in
support of the bond between science and spirituality. Einstein said, ‘’everyone
who is seriously involved in the pursuit of science becomes convinced that a
spirit is manifest in the laws of the universe—a spirit vastly superior to that
of man, and one in the face of which we with our modest powers must feel humble…
the most beautiful emotion we can experience is the mystical. It is the power
of all true art and science’’.
Einstein described his
spirituality as a ‘cosmic religion’ - which came to be known as an Einsteinian religion for the wonder and
mystery of the universe - and he opined that cosmic religion (read: spirituality) was necessary for science,
saying, ‘’science without spirituality
is lame, spirituality without science
is blind’’. To Einstein, science and spirituality became integrated, such that
they were essentially one and the same, and so that rational scientific
discovery became a spiritual act. Dawkins once remarked that he thinks Jesus
would have been too intelligent to believe in religion – ‘’Jesus would have
been an atheist’’, Dawkins remarked. I’m sure that Tolle would agree with this
sentiment, although Tolle might suggest it was Jesus’s wisdom, rather than his
intelligence, which would have liberated him from the dogma of religion. In a
similar vein, I believe that Dawkins is too intelligent (or, hopefully, too wise)
to dismiss spirituality. Indeed, he has
expressed a sympathy toward it. But I think that if he really thought about it
he would come to realise the profound benefit to be garnered in the modern age
from the spiritual traditions of our ancestors.
Now, obviously, I’m not here to
size up the achievements of science. They are many, and remarkable – allowing
us to look into the depths of the cosmos to wonder at the eternal and infinite (the
majesty of which, indeed, spiritual wisdom counsels into our soul like the
archetypal sages Merlin or Gandalf). And we have technology, and medicine, and
we have an empirical foundation for understanding any conceivable situation
that arises. Such situations include those which might have caused existential
dread for our ancestors. Take the sleep disturbance called sleep paralysis, for
example. Before scientific understanding, religious and supernatural beliefs in
many cultures around the world explained that sufferers of this condition were
possessed by evil spirits. I am glad and grateful to live in a day and age when
such afflictions can be explained in a rational, scientific, and reassuring
way.
On the other hand, the more science
discovers in its divergence from the supernatural, the more it converges with
universal truths originally born out of spiritual traditions aeons ago. For
example, the ancient Vedic scriptures (of which Einstein was a reader) reveal what
can be understood as a big bang theory, where the universe is thought to have
begun from a single point and through the power of heat, from a singularity ‘subtler
than the atom, (yet) greater than the greatest’. And, of course, Buddhist
scripture over 2,500 years old speaks of the interconnectivity and oneness of
all things, which is now understood in physics as quantum entanglement. Indeed,
the Dalai Lama says, ‘’broadly speaking, although there are some differences, I
think that Buddhist philosophy and Quantum mechanics can shake hands on their
view of the world’’.
This is where it gets tricky.
Science wants to use revelations in quantum physics to solve puzzles, whereas
spirituality is more concerned with using insights from the quantum world to reiterate
an ancient spiritual mythology of universal consciousness and to encourage us
to embrace oneness and the sacred – which would improve our chances of living
on this planet peacefully and sustainably. However, some scientists such as
Brian Cox dogmatically demand that the wonders of quantum physics such as
quantum entanglement (or what Einstein referred to as ‘spooky action at a
distance’ because separated particles remain mysteriously connected across the
furthest reaches of space) MUST be kept in the strict and guarded province of
orthodox scientific inquiry. Cox implicitly lamented in his lecture to the
Royal Institution that, in a nutshell, findings in quantum physics should never
be adopted, interpreted or appropriated by ‘quacks’ and ‘peddlers’ of ‘woo-woo’
in fields such as new age mysticism, alternative medicine, or even in
consciousness studies. The question of who should be the entitled gatekeeper
for such powerful knowledge is a perennial battle, resurfaced once again. We
have already seen the interplay between quantum physics and experience become popularised
in books and movies such as Interstellar and Donnie Darko.
It is at this point where the
pragmatic and widely accepted differences between science and spirituality
stop. And, for better or worse, it is at this point where the visionary
thinkers in science (who almost always, incidentally, seem to be interested or
least open to spiritual ideas) are derided by the orthodoxy of the scientific
establishment. And strangely, when their visions come to pass and/or become
more aligned with mainstream thinking, the scientific ‘establishment’ has a
convenient bout of amnesia about such heretics having been the first to pioneer
these visionary theories in the first place. We can see how this has happened
to people such as Deepak Chopra, Rupert Sheldrake and Graham Hancock.
Deepak Chopra was criticised and
ridiculed by Dawkins in his polemical show Enemies
of Reason for talking about quantum effects in biological systems. And
years later, a book endorsed by Nature magazine was published called ‘Life on
the Edge: The Coming of Age of Quantum Biology’. Furthermore, Sir Roger Penrose
– the esteemed professor of mathematics at Oxford University – became
interested in how quantum effects in the brain could provide an explanation for
consciousness; - and consciousness is (according to Penrose and another Oxford
quantum physicist Daegene Song) non-computable - and therefore comparing
the brain to a machine would be a false and misleading analogy. Song published
mathematical proof of this in his paper called ‘Non-Computability of Consciousness’
and Penrose has been working as a co-creator on the Orch OR model of the Quantum Nature of Consciousness and Memory.
Dawkins offers the advice – ‘be
open minded, but not so open minded that your brain drops out’. Ostensibly,
this is good advice, and should be heeded by all scientists. But, if the late spiritual
master Barry Long’s premonition that science would become the new dominant
religion is right - one wonders whether the high priests and priestesses of
science have dogmatic rules (unspoken or otherwise) which stifle free and open
scientific debate and research. To even suggest that there is corruption or
power allegiances lurking in the shadows of academia and science gets you
automatically branded a ‘conspiracy theorist’ by (guess who) the very
institution you are criticising. ‘Conspiracy Theorist’ has become a 21st
Century super-weapon to discredit and dismiss anyone who steps on the toes of
those who hold agency in the corridors of power – and of relevance here this
includes the intelligentsia, mainstream medicine and corporate science. As Mary
Douglas is quoted as saying in an article in The Guardian called The Most
Despised Science Book of 2012 is… Worth Reading, ‘’secular societies still
draw symbolic boundaries to keep the permissible in and the threatening stuff
out. Those who cross them risk expulsion. The media ritual of the public review
offers a mechanism’’. I should add that Wikipedia has also, unfortunately,
become another ‘mechanism’ by ‘guerrilla sceptics’ of the scientific orthodoxy
to censor and propagandise. To give just one example out of thousands, the
compound sulforaphane has been shown in clinical trial in humans to be
effective for a host of health problems, including in the mitigation of
symptoms of autism. The results from the clinical trial are even available on
the UK’s NHS website. However, the links to this sulforaphane research, whilst
initially put up on the Wikipedia page, keeps being taken down. It’s put up,
then immediately taken down. Again, and again, and again. Editors who lurk in
the murky shadows of corporate science and who have ‘the last say’ in such
matters can’t be genuine scientists; they must be pathological individuals with
an agenda and severe conflicts of interest.
But how, exactly, can alternative
ideas be so ‘threatening’? You only need
consider the plight of Galileo in the 15th Century to answer this
question. It’s easy to see that ideas and memes about medicine and healthcare
will be controlled by Big Pharma with all its tentacles of power and influenced
groups. Some intellectuals even describe the way evidence is collated in
medicine as being ‘fascist’ in nature. And, although scientists might believe
they are being totally objective – and even working in the best interest of the
public – you only have to read George Orwell’s 1984 to understand that control
is often insidious, i.e. subtle and below the level of clear perception. For
example, scientists need funding to survive (both personally and
professionally) but funding isn’t apportioned liberally to anyone just because
they want to study something. Far from it. Funding for science comes from
organisations that have money, and usually those organisations with money also
have power and strong vested interests. Under this funding regime, scientists
and science itself (i.e. scientific
narrative and our body of knowledge) become self-selecting and reinforcing. So,
next time you hear the catchphrase ‘’there’s
no evidence for natural compound X being effective in treating condition Y’’
you have to keep in mind that, likely, there is no evidence simply because no
funding has been granted to study the natural compound. Why spend millions on
bringing a natural compound to market at phase-3 clinical trial when it cannot
be patented? Money makes the world of bio-medical science spin round.
But I digress. Basically, when it
comes to the emerging clash between the worldviews of science and spiritual
tradition, any challenge to the materialist
paradigm - the paradigm that has buttressed up the growing mainstream of
science for a few hundred years) - is
a dangerous idea. But, as Chopra warned, militant scepticism by scientists
beholden to the materialist paradigm will fall just as it has risen, like an
empire. Indeed, academics of the highest order have already broken rank,
including Harvard professor of philosophy Thomas Nagel who authored the book
‘The Cosmic Mind – Why the Neo-Darwinian Materialist view of the Cosmos is
almost certainly False’.
In a similar way, Rupert
Sheldrake has been ostracised by the elite of the scientific establishment.
Upon publishing his book ‘A New Science of Life’ in 1981 which championed a new
theory and paradigm shift in biology, it was berated heavily by the then
editor-in-chief of Nature magazine John
Maddox, who scoffed that it was ‘’The best candidate for burning there has been
for many years… Sheldrake is putting forward magic instead of science, and that
can be condemned in exactly the language that the pope used to condemn Galileo,
and for the same reason – it is heresy’’.
The fact that Maddox thought
little of Sheldrake’s hypothesis is obvious. What is perplexing is why Maddox chose
to make an analogy where he himself takes the position of religious authority
and Sheldrake is gifted the Galilean stature of bravery for standing up for
science in the face of religious persecution. With this clumsy analogy, it
would appear that Maddox shot himself in the foot. Regardless, Maddox’s use of
the word ‘heresy’ betrays a dogma at the heart of the scientific orthodoxy. But
science needs heretics, and always has, as physicist Freeman Dyson likes to
point out. Overall, science progresses just as much through ‘heresy’ as it does
by slow and methodical additions to an existing model, just as evolution of
life proceeds both by gradual changes and spasmodic leaps.
Yet, others took a different view
on Sheldrake’s book. Larry Dossey said ‘’books of this importance and elegance
come along rarely… the significance of Sheldrake’s work is not less than that
of the Copernican and quantum-relativistic revolutions of prior eras’’.
And Graham Hancock, who wrote
Fingerprints of the Gods in the mid-1990s to suggest that civilisation might be
far older and more mysterious than we thought, as well as follow-up books such
as Underworld which expounded on the
same core theme, was ridiculed by New
Scientist magazine. 20 years later, New
Scientist bought out an edition with the proclamation that civilisation is
far older and more mysterious than we thought (link: https://archive.org/details/NS-5-10-2013).
No mention of Hancock. Interestingly for me, Graham Hancock’s approach to
studying archaeology is, actually, the mark of a true scientist, even though
Hancock has never called himself a scientist and even though the orthodoxy in
archaeology have viciously berated him for decades. Hancock investigates as a
true scientist by considering all the layers of nuance which need to be
considered. Thus, even though Hancock might not be seen as an ‘expert’ on
Egypt, for example, he has developed – by
considering all the layers of nuance which need to be considered – a far
more complete picture of that civilisation. Some of these nuances include
astro-archaeology, spiritual practices of the time, and connections of Egypt to
other civilisations, distant both spatially and temporally. A scientist can be
both right and wrong on the same topic, depending at which scale they focus a
question, and on how much nuance they allow in or block out. Dogmatic
scientists from many disciplines in the mainstream have the nasty habit of
being highly selective and biased when deciding how much nuance should be
allowed to shape a debate. If nuance helps their case, pile on the nuance. If
it doesn’t, dismiss it. Fortunately, there are researchers like Hancock who
seek and dive into the bigger picture straight away because, quite rightly, a
jigsaw puzzle can’t be completed without adding up each of the pieces.
If you think that the science has
lessened its grip and become more inclusive, or that squabbles are just the dog-eat-dog
nature of science, then perhaps consider that TED talks by both Hancock and
Sheldrake in 2013 were banned by TED for, basically, being at odds with
scientific consensus. This was particularly ironic in Sheldrake’s case given
that he was discussing dogmatism in science in his talk called ‘The Science
Delusion’. In Hancock’s case, the reasons given by TED were a bit more nebulous
but, ostensibly, Hancock was viewed cynically as being unscientific and for
alluding to the potential benefit that Ayahuasca has for individuals and
society. Even on this matter, the bare facts speak the loudest (as they should
in science) – namely, that Ayahuasca has powerful potential therapeutic uses,
such as in the treatment of drug addiction, in psychotherapy (e.g. in alignment
with both traditional wisdom and Ken Wilber’s 4-quadrant integrative model for
transpersonal psychology), and – above all – for engendering in us the
shamanistic tradition of having a great respect for the inherent sacredness of
the earth. [N.B. similarly, Dr. Andrew Weil’s informative and rational book From Chocolate to Morphine: Everything You
Need to Know About Mind-Altering Drugs was criticised by the mainstream and
put in the ‘book for burning’ naughty corner – albeit during the 1980s –
showing an historical bias and prejudice against promulgating information on
drugs, however rational and scientific].
What do these two examples of
banned TED talks have to do with spirituality? Simply this, as Shakespeare’s
Hamlet insights, ‘’there are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are
dreamt of in your philosophy’’.
This is no truer than when
engaging in the ‘hard problem’ in science – consciousness. ‘Hard’ because it raises
the hurdle of subject-object (i.e. trying to objectively gauge reality with our
subjective minds, as illustrated by the observer effect of Schrodinger’s Cat
experiment) and because it is
seemingly intractable because it demands philosophical insight as much as, if
not more so, than physics and biology. Essentially, on one side the
‘materialists’ (or naïve realists as they have been referred to) believe that
consciousness exclusively originates within the brain, i.e. is just an
‘epi-phenomenon’ of brain activity. On the other side are those who believe
that consciousness is an inherent aspect of the universe, i.e. for life to be
conscious, consciousness must have pre-existed beforehand, even at the
rudimentary level of the atom. Thus, either mind
arises within the brain, or it originates elsewhere.
It’s easy to dismiss this latter
option, you might say, because if you damage part of your brain then your
ability to use certain aspects of your mind changes. But, not so fast. Some
proponents argue that the brain might simply be a receiver of consciousness,
and they state the analogy that if you were to damage the aerial to your TV
this would affect the output even though the signal remains exactly the same.
This might be a relatively radical tangent of the ‘Hard Problem’ – but rest
assured that the core debate (of whether consciousness is simply an emergent
property of the brain or if it is more apt to see it as an intrinsic aspect of
the universe) has drawn equally brilliant scientists to either side of the debating
chamber. Scientists on the ‘post-materialist’
side include Roger Penrose, Michio Kaku, John Hagelin, as well as many
popularisers of science.
This debate was perhaps best
popularised by the debate between Richard Dawkins and Deepak Chopra in Mexico in
2013, which centred around this very topic. Chopra said Freeman Dyson had said
an atom has consciousness. A disbelieving Dawkins said that Dyson should sue
him. The rest is history.
It’s precisely because scientists
of all persuasions get so het-up that I hold out the last hope for someone like
Tolle to have a breakthrough experience with Dawkins. It is possible, of
course, that Tolle misunderstands science in the way any non-scientist could.
But if so, it’s likely that this is largely because science is dogged by the wrath
of egotism which Tolle’s teachings inspire us to renounce and transcend. Perhaps,
just perhaps, the wise words of a spiritual master such as Eckhart Tolle could
even help to foster the public’s engagement with science as much as anyone
else. As Einstein suggested, science would do well to be humbled and
enlightened by spiritual insights, and scientific discovery is itself a
spiritual act.
CONCLUSION
Now then. It would be easy for an
article like this to remain entrapped within the domain of philosophy and
nebulous debate - but this isn’t the intention here and, besides, it wouldn’t
be helpful to either science or spirituality. I end this article with a list of
practical, tangible and down-to-earth ways in which the bridging of science and
spirituality would benefit us and life on planet Earth.
1. Accepting the reality of Death. Mark
Twain once said that he did not fear death, remarking ‘’I had been dead for
billions and billions of years before I was born, and had not suffered the
slightest inconvenience’’. This is a blazon expression of a simple fact, and
might be a helpful way of looking at it – but for many people this sort of
atheistic pragmatism wouldn’t be enough to spare them this ultimate fear; the
fear of death. This is where spirituality can help a great deal, and is – like
a profound cosmic paradox – where spiritual truth becomes most solidly useful. In many spiritual and
indigenous traditions, death is a sacred cosmic
event to be honoured and respected deeply as the other side of the coin to
birth, and this has been portrayed in profound movies such as Aronofsky’s The Fountain.
Death is the
opposite of birth, not of life, as Tolle reminds us. Life is eternal
and, like love, has no opposite. Studies have already shown that prescribing
terminal patients with magic mushrooms can significantly help to alleviate
their fear of death, and there are many respected institutions doing research
into the therapeutic use of psychedelic substances, such as the Yale
Psychedelic Science Group. Ultimately, it must be remembered, when people
confront their fear of death by using psychedelic drugs, their transformation
in consciousness isn’t due to a clinical experience, but a spiritual
experience. As the great late Terence McKenna said, there is no deeper truth than
the psychedelic experience - the truth of opening to the kingdom of heaven
which is within you, here now, and to the interconnected oneness of everything
in the universe.
2. Encourages us to fully realise the
sacredness of the earth. The idea of ‘sustainability’ and the way we talk
about it (in our socioeconomic and political models of the world) is a
relatively superficial and obfuscating way of engaging in this vital topic. As Einstein
so eloquently declared, you can’t find the solution at the same level as the
problem. And yet, this is the short-sightedness with which many scientists, economists
and politicians operate. There’s nothing wrong with trying to find
technological fixes to the problems facing the planet – it’s just that this
approach only treats the symptoms and does nothing to address the cause. The cause is, ultimately, a spiritual
one, as understood by the profound saying of Pascal who said ‘’all human evil
comes from a single cause; mankind’s inability to sit quietly in a room
alone’’. If you understand this quote, you understand the enormous power of
genuine spiritual practice to make the world a peaceful and sustainable place.
Whilst the world becomes increasingly complex, the solutions remain
embarrassingly simple, as another saying goes.
At almost every
level in society, we’re fatally addicted to treating the symptoms instead of
confronting the root cause. It’s analogous to an over-flowing sink – we’re
racing around like madmen around the sink mopping up the water from off the
floor, and yet few are talking about how we can turn off the tap. Of course,
with science and technology, we can keep destroying the planet only to patch it
up again, Ad infinitum. But this is
an affront to ethics and to the reverence for life for its intrinsic value - which is at the heart of the Deep
Ecology movement. In a paradoxical way, science and technology allows
(and in some ways even encourages) us to destroy the earth, simply because we
have been so divorced and decoupled from the natural consequences of our
actions. For example, our mono-cultural model for agriculture can deplete the
soil in endless cycles because farmers can simply keep replenishing it with
artificial chemicals to compensate for the damage. In pre-industrial times,
people had to take care of the land
if they were to grow food, and even nomadic hunter-gatherer societies held a
reverence for the land which we can’t get our heads around. Archaeologists and
scientists were found to be totally wrong, for example, in their earlier
conclusions that the demise of the people and culture of Easter Island in the
Pacific was self-inflicted due to the indigenous ‘ecocidal’ exploitation of the
land. As British archaeologist Jago Cooper explored in his documentary for the
BBC, nothing could have been further from the truth. The peoples of Easter Island
had a great respect for the land, like all indigenous traditions. Moreover, it
simply wouldn’t make logical sense for them to have abused the very land they
were so dependent on for their own sustenance. This faux pas of archaeology is
perhaps also an example of projection – i.e. in industrial civilisation our
worldview and narrative has become so inculcated that it’s difficult to imagine
there is another way, another paradigm, with which to exist in the world.
The great civilisations
such as the Inca showed an incredible in-depth working knowledge of land
management and protection which, even if partly born out of fear of reprisal
from the nature Gods, served to maintain a respect for the land. The Kogi today
– the ‘last ancient civilisation’ to remain in the world – regard themselves as
guardians for the earth, an earth which we in the developed world (the Kogi refer
to us as ‘little brother’) are destroying because we don’t understand natural
law. As the proverb goes, never does nature say one thing and wisdom
another.
For the Kogi,
even the idea of Deep Ecology isn’t deep enough – what we refer to as ‘ecology’
they see as the cosmos. As without, so within. Whether it’s the Kogis of
Colombia with their cosmological understanding, or the indigenous peoples of
Peru who believe that mountains are deities, or many other wisdom traditions
who worshipped (or still do) the Gods of nature – (the ‘many gods’ in paganism
has been driven out by the one God, as Merlin said in Excalibur) – the most important thing to consider is, as Wade Davis
says, whether these beliefs mediate a sustainable and peaceful relationship
with the earth and its societies. ‘’What matters is whether it’s true!’’
Dawkins would interject. Others like Davis would say that whether it’s true or
not must come second to whether a belief helps to foster a sustainable and
peaceful society. This is especially true in this period of human history which
stands out for its carelessness toward ecology and sustainability. At present,
we as a industrialised society would be wise to reconsider the detached habit
of walking along the Occam’s Razor of scientific snobbery as if absolute facts
were more important than the cultural consequences of those facts. You don’t
cut down a rainforest if you believe that your dead ancestors rest there among
the Gods of nature. If you see the Amazon as a just bunch of trees, it’s much
easier to chop them down. Facts can be deadly.
Ultimately, this
is a tale of Karma. We can’t expect to exploit the earth with no repercussions.
There is no such thing as a free lunch. As we use science and technology to
compensate for the damage we create, we are simply ballooning the karmic debt
bigger and bigger. Man-induced climate change is an example of how that bubble
has burst.
However
inadvertently, the fallout of the materialistic paradigm of producing atomised,
individualistic and dualistically-minded individuals has given rise to a
society of ‘us and them’ - I and the earth… the earth as
property, as something different and outside of I… the human who has risen
above the parapet of primitiveness. In spiritual and indigenous traditions, we are the earth – we are the eyes through
which the universe looks at itself. This truth is beautifully captured in the
1981 movie Excalibur where the knight Percival declares to King Arthur that the
secret of the Holy Grail which Arthur lost is realising that ‘you and the land
are one’.
To some people, past
civilisations, indigenous cultures and wisdom traditions appear ‘primitive’
when compared to our technological and scientific age. But, lest we forget, it
is our civilisation of the techno-science age that is perpetrating
something that has never been seen before during the history of the earth: a
species causing a great mass extinction. As Graham Hancock has so insightfully
pointed out, if the human race were to be confronted with an apocalypse –
natural or manmade – it is the indigenous peoples of the world who offer us the
wisdom, skill and knowledge to survive if technology fails. If you were to look
at the earth from space at night, it is the dark places - the ‘primitive’ and ‘undeveloped’ pockets of people -
that would survive and thrive in a post-apocalyptic world which had been
reduced to surviving in nature. We would then re-classify indigenous cultures
as being the most capable, most civilised, and most developed. Indeed, as the
ethnobotanist professor Wade Davis has eloquently pointed out, all peoples of
the world have the same genetic potential for intellectual wizardry and
scientific progress, but many of those so called ‘primitive cultures’ have
simply chosen to adopt and live a different vision of life. He cites the story
of how the British colonialists in Australia were ‘offended’ that the
Aborigines simply weren’t that interested in the ‘progress’ they held to be an
integral aspect of humanity – and this was one of the reasons the British were
still debating whether the indigenous people were human well into the 1900s.
3. To help
revolutionize healthcare – e.g. integrative medicine and integrative
psychology. Many believe that, contrary to mainstream thinking, modern
medicine is unsophisticated and clumsy – Stone Age medicine, in fact. According
to pioneers in the field of integrative medicine such as Dr. Andrew Weil
(founder of the Arizona Centre for Integrative Medicine), medicine for diseases of lifestyle becomes more
sophisticated and effective as it adopts a holistic approach – to consider the
spiritual and emotional needs of a patient alongside just the physical.
Perhaps though,
it is in psychology where the greatest potential therapeutic benefit is to be
found. I remember chatting to a psychologist friend once about meditation, and
him saying that he was sceptical of meditation because of its religious
overtones. I tried to allay his concerns by saying that, firstly, meditation as
a method of internal reflection and quietude is mainly rooted in the spiritual
traditions and, secondly, that meditation is essentially the same as
mindfulness – and mindfulness practice is now a part of mainstream thinking in
psychology. However, on this second point, I think I was wrong. Whilst
mindfulness and meditation are,
practically, the same thing, meditation has the added benefit of being
spiritual in nature, encouraging people who practice it to connect with the
transcendent. In short, mindfulness is more geared toward becoming aware of
ourselves, and meditation is more geared toward us transcending the self and
seeing the bigger picture. The spiritual nature of meditation lends itself to
help people realise the true oneness and interconnectivity of all things – as
the Buddha spoke of – and mindfulness (as taught in psychology) helps us to
become more aware of our own habits and patterns. To categorise them simply,
mindfulness is about bringing awareness to the little self (the generator of the ‘pain body’ of emotional and
psychological past pain as Tolle refers to it) and meditation involves the
transcendent dimension that opens when we bring awareness to the big self. To hedge my bets, when Jesus
said, ‘know thyself’, I figure he was talking about the big self. Both are
useful, of course.
As mentioned
before, the psychedelic drug Ayahuasca used in the shamanistic cultures of the
Amazon has been shown to have great potential benefit for the treatment of drug
addiction, as well as use in psychotherapy and even in medicine. Proponents for
its responsible use include Dr. Gabor Mate and several respected research
institutions around the world. Perhaps - even though this is speculative - just
like trauma can be passed down generations epi-genetically (and has been shown
to happen in a study published in Nature),
perhaps wisdom and/or knowledge of our environment can be passed between
generations in DNA. If so, perhaps shamanistic medicines such as Ayahuasca
allow us to ‘unlock’ this wisdom.
But, where does
the spiritual come into this, you might ask. Why not just use Ayahuasca in a
clinical setting like any other medicine? To my mind, Ayahuasca without
shamanism is not Ayahuasca, just as a Yin without a Yang is not a Yin-Yang.
Shamans are the master gatekeepers for knowledge of Ayahuasca, having used it
ceremonially for thousands of years, and we would do well to respect this
knowledge and context. As anyone who has tried Ayahuasca will attest to, the
experience is inextricably linked to nature
– and, in the allusion to Arthurian legend earlier, when we are one with nature
we are one with ourselves. In the mythology of The Lord of the Rings, only
those at one with nature (such as Tom Bombadil) are immune from being seduced
and afflicted by the power of Sauron’s ring.
Why am I going
off on a tangent about mythology? Because it’s not a tangent. As the Jungian
scholar Joseph Campbell said, ‘’mythology is the penultimate truth – penultimate
because the ultimate cannot be put into words. It is beyond words, beyond that
bounding rim of the Buddhist Wheel of Becoming. Mythology pitches the mind
beyond that rim, to what can be known but not told’’. The power of Ayahuasca is
greatest when respected within the spiritual, mythological and natural
context it has been used in by ancestral peoples of the Amazon for thousands of
years. Shamans see Ayahuasca as a gift from nature, and some have even spoken
of the timely introduction of Ayahuasca to the western world as being a
symbolic act from Mother Nature to remind us of the sacredness of this planet –
a last ditch effort to change our ungodly ways.
4. Informs priorities, encourages perspective
and informs decision-making. In an interview, the intellectual and activist
David Kubiak said that he recommends watching the YouTube video ‘Powers of Ten’
to get a better perspective on things (link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0fKBhvDjuy0).
Indeed, as the video zooms out from a park in an American city, and does so by
incremental orders of magnitude, it becomes increasingly difficult to ignore
the fact that we – the earth and life on it – are but a tiny and insignificant
speck in the vastness of nothingness. A pale blue dot. Both science and
spirituality ultimately lead to this realization. However, science reveals this
in its trajectory of seeking and learning, whereas in spirituality we come to
such truths only by unlearning, and
getting off the trajectory of seeking altogether. With science, we walk in a
straight line on the equator all the way around the world only to end up where
we began. In spiritual traditions such as Buddhism, the greatest journey is an
inner one, and we know we have arrived when we stop seeking for fulfilment in
the future. In science, it takes time to get perspective. In spirituality, we
must step off the treadmill of time itself to find perspective. Enlightenment
takes no time at all, and so we can gain transcendental perspective in a
heartbeat.
5. Unearthing logical truisms in deep
meditation. I have often wondered whether deep meditative practice can be
just as powerful as physics and mathematics to come up with answers about the
universe – e.g. to unearth deep truisms and logical deductions – since, often,
the most complex questions have the simplest answers. As mentioned, the Vedic
scriptures speak of a Big Bang, and Buddhism seems to have had an intimate
knowledge of quantum mechanics – not just a symbolic grasp, but a deep
understanding of the interconnectivity of entities across space and time as
described by quantum entanglement. For example, E = MC2 is a
beautifully simple equation, though arrived at through some of the most complex
mathematics imaginable. But such profound equations don’t arise solely by
juggling mathematics – they are also born out of faculties of logic, lateral
thinking, and even intuition. They involve imagination too, and philosophical
insight. Is it possible that the relationship between energy, mass and the
speed of light (i.e. E = MC2) could be (or perhaps even was)
discovered through profound insights in meditation or other spiritual
practices? You might give a resounding ‘no’ to this question, and that’s fair
enough. It’s only speculation after all – but it’s the principle that matters.
And, after all, ancient spiritual traditions developed ideas about the big bang
and quantum entanglement, which are just as complex.
We know that
meditative practice can help the brain work more effectively, and a still mind
can really be a wonderful tool. Magnus Carlsen, world chess champion and
highest ranked player in the history of the game, has often remarked how his
chess is best when his intuitive faculties are best – even though we often
categories chess as being a game of rationality and sheer calculation.
Intuition, whilst itself perhaps being nothing more than the subconscious
recall and integration of a lifetime’s worth of memories in a single moment to
elicit a ‘feeling', is – importantly – one of the signs of a brain that is
working in the integrated state of flow. ‘Flow’ is a psychological
concept coined by Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, and is characterised by several
other attributes such as: present moment awareness; the merging of action and
awareness; feeling that activities are intrinsically rewarding. There are many
other examples in history of geniuses who attest to the power of intuition. One
of them is the great Indian mathematician Ramanujan, who felt that his ability
to solve difficult problems in mathematics came from intuitive insight rather
than raw calculation. And, as discussed, Einstein was a deeply spiritual man
and relied on intuition as well as the conventional rationality of
science.
6. Only hope for free-will. The issue of
whether we have true free will or not is, like the hard problem of
consciousness (and in some ways inextricably linked to it), a difficult and
perennial question in science. As many see it, the likelihood of us having true
free will (and not merely the illusion of free-will, as Dawkins puts it) is dependent
on the ideas arising from understandings in quantum physics, such as the
concept of there being true randomness.
Perhaps
surprisingly, Eckhart Tolle has said on this topic that he finds it difficult
to see how we could have free-will, given that most of our behaviour is driven
by deep-seated, unconscious patterns. Accordingly, however, our capacity for
free-will is dependent on our becoming more conscious and self-aware – states
which are developed by spiritual practice. In a powerful insight, Tolle
suggests that true free-will would only be possible if we are aligned and one
with the universe – the logic being (as I understand it) that as we experience the
state of oneness, the less we resist the natural state of things, and thus the
more unshackled we become by the things of this world which keep us locked into
repeating automatic behaviours. In other words, the more we transcend our
biology and practice the spiritual practice of oneness, the less bogged down we
become by the things which keep us enslaved in the dualistic way of the mind. In The
Selfish Gene, Dawkins holds out hope that we humans can use our minds to
escape the enslavement to our genes and biology. But, just like the
philosophical-myopia of Descartes who believed that ‘I think therefore I am’, Dawkins stops short of the more profound and
helpful realisation that we need to transcend our minds, too, if we are to
escape the enslavement to our biology.
7. Fulfill the purpose of the universe.
Related to the point above, spiritual masters hold the point of view that consciousness
is ‘’the why’’ – the purpose of life – because consciousness is the evolutionary
impulse of the universe. Obviously, this spiritual ‘truth’ isn’t necessarily a
perspective that can be proved one way or the other, but we can be sure that
evolution of complexity, life, and consciousness is an inherent natural law of
the cosmos – and this is the logical basis for the Drake Equation to estimate
the probability of finding intelligent life in the universe.
Scientists get
very uncomfortable when words like ‘purpose’ or ‘why’ are used to grapple with
the mystery of the universe. However, the inexhaustible search for understanding
and knowledge is at the heart of science – not
because of the function that science serves, but because discovery for its
own sake has an intrinsic value. Thus, paradoxically, the key ethos of science
to endlessly and ceaselessly discover / research is a value – and values
are typically outside best practice of science. ‘’science doesn’t make value
judgements’’ is the slogan of dogmatic sceptics in science. But, in truth,
science makes value judgements all the time. Examples abound, but one dramatic
one is the funding of space missions to the outer planets of the solar system,
instead of spending that money on the hundreds of millions of people starving
and struggling on the planet. Whatever excuses scientists or politicians would
give to explain this use of money, it all boils down to one thing – a value
judgement.
Thus, we see
that the driving force behind science is, at its root, indistinguishable from
the very essence of life and the universe which science studies. It is a Zen
Kaon and a closed circle. If the universe has no purpose then science has no
purpose. But science does have a purpose; a purpose born out of the universe
itself and which our ancestors partook in.
To return to the
satirical dialogue between Dawkins and Tolle – what, then, would be the point
of discovering the origin of the universe if the expansion of our understanding
had no intrinsic value? And, what is this intrinsic value at the sacred heart
of all inquiry, scientific or spiritual? Well, Eckhart Tolle could expound on
that. But the finger pointing at the moon is not the moon, and the Tao that can
be spoken of is not the true Tao.
THE END
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