Traditional Philosophy of India and China

The Tradition of Philosophy in Ancient India

Ontological Teachings in Traditional Indian Philosophy

In the realm of theoretical philosophy, Indian thinkers sought to elucidate the causes that give rise to the sensory world presented to humans and its connection with the self-aware "I," as well as the reality that exists beyond sensory images (the world not given in sensations). It is important to note a particular aspect of this inquiry, which may not be entirely comprehensible to the modern European mind, shaped by the spirit of scientific understanding. No one doubts that the world is in some way ordered, and that events within it are, to some extent, predictable. A scientist, investigating the connections between phenomena and objects under various conditions, aims to uncover the laws that govern these connections and to describe the logic inherent in them. Accordingly, their goal is achieved when they can accurately forecast outcomes under specified conditions, ideally relying on a clear, comprehensible model (theory) from which these predictions are derived. Scientists strive to explain what occurs in the world as comprehensively as possible. However, Indian philosophers were more concerned with understanding why these regularities exist and what gives rise to these phenomena, rather than simply identifying patterns in the world of appearances.

To illustrate this point, let us assume a hypothetical scenario where all yellow fruits are sweet (though this is not the case in reality). If this were true, upon seeing a yellow fruit, one might reasonably conclude that it is sweet. We could investigate the common substances present in all sweet fruits and the interaction of certain receptors on the tongue with these substances, which leads to the sensation of sweetness. This sensation, in turn, is linked to a chain of nerve impulses to the human nervous system, which we could describe in detail, along with the mechanisms of signal generation. Yet, would this elucidate why the sensation of yellow and sweet arises and how it is specifically associated with the tongue and fruits? It is evident that explaining how a receptor reacts to sugar is not the same as clarifying why sugar is perceived as sweet rather than in some other way (or not perceived at all). It is nonsensical to assume that electromagnetic radiation with a wavelength of 565-590 nm is inherently yellow; the concept of wavelength does not contain elements from which one might conclude how it is seen. How does ultrasound sound to bats? Can you even imagine it? While the general mechanism of echolocation in the ultrasonic range as a method of orientation and object detection in bats is understood, we cannot deduce what they experience from it. Reference to the biological significance of these mechanisms does not address the question of sensuality.

Indian thinkers, while lacking knowledge of neurophysiology (and likely uninterested in it), understood clearly that describing how phenomena occur does not equate to explaining why these phenomena "are" in the first place. However, since suffering is an experiential feeling encountered by individuals, to comprehend how to avoid suffering, they aimed to clarify how the experience of suffering is linked to specific objects or influences, and why this feeling is attached specifically to the self.

Another aspect of this inquiry is closely tied to religious beliefs. If gods generate the world, what is the connection between the gods and humans? What is determined by the gods?

Thus, the interest of theoretical thought in Indian philosophy is not so much focused on phenomena or "our" world, but rather on what lies beyond these phenomena and our consciousness. This aspiration is better described as a desire for awareness, to attain an internal state of clarity ("enlightenment"), rather than to construct a theory that predicts phenomena. Indian thinkers were more concerned with what happens after death than with what occurs in life. Indian philosophy does not reduce itself to inquiries of science in the modern sense, nor can science satisfy the queries of Indian philosophers. (This is why they coexist harmoniously; their questions do not fundamentally conflict.)

A common starting point among the diverse positions of Indian schools is the general acknowledgment that for the world to be sensed, for phenomena to "exist," there must be someone who perceives, for whom the world is manifested. But who is this true self-subject, and how does it relate to reality? Is there anything real at all beyond the sensory experience? (By "real," we refer to that which exists independently of conscious awareness, not merely in words, but as something in itself.)

The Lokayatas adopted a position distinct from others in this regard. They posited that the world consists of eternal fundamental elements or qualities: fire, water, air, and earth. These are real. Through various combinations, all possible things arise, each possessing its own composition and structure. One such entity is the human being, structured such that sensory experiences arise from the interaction of external objects and substances with its sensory organs. These sensations are either pleasurable, prompting a desire to repeat them, or unpleasant, leading one to seek their avoidance. Thus, the sensory "I" is identical to the human body. When the body decays, the "I" disappears as well. Human consciousness is directly produced by the natural interactions of the body. Although sensations are internal, if we observe that bodies are alike, we can plausibly conclude that their sensations will be similar as well. Consequently, the experience of one person can be conveyed to another through expression, but only to the extent that people are similarly constructed. Words are actions like any others, merely produced by humans (as a potter shapes a pot). However, the influence of words stirs memory rather than the sensation itself, and words cannot substitute for what they signify. Therefore, words themselves are not necessarily reliable concerning reality, just as conclusions drawn solely from the content of words may lack validity. Many people lie for personal gain, thus necessitating the verification of words. This verification involves cross-referencing what is said with direct sensory experiences of the phenomena described. Since no gods or souls separate from the body have ever been seen, and no other worlds have been observed, all tales of them are lies (or experiences that cannot be conveyed or verified, rendering them worthless).

The widely held notion of the four elements was highly popular in antiquity, reflecting, in a sense, the most visible abstractions drawn from sensory experience. There is something solid, unyielding, and heavy—earth. There is something that flows, moist—water. There is the elusive, invisible substance that allows bodies to pass through without resistance—air. And there is that which generates warmth, flickering and dynamic—fire. In solid wood, there exists water; when it burns, heat and smoke are released: thus, all elements coexist.

However, another aspect of the Charvaka doctrine closely resembles modern physiologists' views on the soul: for them, there exists only the brain, which processes signals that represent bodily reactions to external stimuli, directing human behavior. When the brain ceases to function, so too does the "soul." Bodily movements either aid in survival, preservation, or the pursuit of necessities in one’s environment, or they do not. The mechanisms of brain activity and the receptors that are reinforced are those that assist in survival. Thus, various animals possess differently structured "brains," exhibiting varying degrees of behavioral complexity corresponding to their life conditions. The soul is merely a conventional term for the mechanisms regulating behavior; these, in turn, are biological functions.

The opponents of the Charvakas emphasized that the observations of interactions among bodies cannot yield any sensuous content. Indeed, one can doubt the reliability of any derived law, yet one cannot question the substance of sensations. Even if the sun rises over the horizon every morning, I cannot state with complete certainty that it will do so again tomorrow based solely on this repetition. A pig, raised by a benevolent master for slaughter, could remain convinced until its last day that it resides in its own swine paradise! Furthermore, the reliability of observations is limited only by my experience: someone recounting their own experiences may be lying. Yet, if I have experienced a sensation, I cannot deny that experience (though I might choose not to share it with others). Notably, the Charvakas and their adversaries draw opposing conclusions: the Charvaka believes that every sensation is connected to the body, and thus, without the body, there are no sensations. However, their opponents draw a different logical conclusion: if a sensation is given in self-awareness and is transparent only to it (no one else can directly feel my feelings), then a sensitive mind—some conscious entity—must be a necessary condition for sensations. Yet, what that entity is and how it relates to bodies remains a matter of division among thinkers.

The Jainists provided the simplest answer: the self-awareness is a property of the jiva—the soul, a self-sufficient being that exists eternally, is not reducible to anything, does not arise from anything, and does not transform into anything. The jiva is the true "I," yet it is intertwined with real, corporeal particles (like molecules) and simultaneously located in space with them. This connection persists for a time, as the body undergoes the influence of other bodies, moving and developing.

Jainists recognize both bodily reality and the conscious soul (jiva), which may exist within the body or outside of it. The jiva can only achieve detachment from bodies if its consciousness can focus to encompass the full consequences of its impulses. Since bodily impulses generate suffering, they can be overcome by a decision of conscious reason. This requires the cultivation of utmost self-discipline, part of which involves asceticism aimed at preventing suffering for other jivas. (Interestingly, the asceticism of Jainists sometimes reached extremes, as seen in the Digambaras—one of two sects of Jainism—who refrained even from wearing clothing and would walk about naked).

For Buddhists, the question of the relationship between reality and the nature of conscious "I" led to centuries-long debates, culminating in the emergence of several competing philosophical schools. The most extreme position belongs to the proponents of the Shunyavada (Madhyamika) doctrine. For them, no reality exists outside the flow of consciousness. Everything that is, exists as a moment of awareness. Even the I-subject does not exist independently as something immutable, identical to itself (as the jiva does for Jainists). The experienced and perceived "I" is given as a relative moment in the stream of consciousness, in which a point of perception forms here and now. Regarding reality, we cannot assert anything with certainty.

The Yogachara school, however, considered this "I" to be a self-sufficient subject, while all reality is merely the world as perceived by it. (This position is also referred to as subjective idealism: something that exists is understood as the given object in the perception of the subject of consciousness). Clearly, both positions require some response to the question of why experienced reality is structured in this way and not otherwise, and what role the subject's desires play in the vision of the world and its formation. To say that the world is given only in consciousness, and that outside of consciousness there is nothing, is not the same as asserting that the world is an arbitrary fantasy, and that the subject is capable of synthesizing its experience as a dream by design (first setting it in motion and then experiencing it as an external given).

The Sautrantikas acknowledge the existence of both the I-subject of consciousness and the reality of objects that exist independently of whether they are perceived. Their critique of the Yogachara position was based on several arguments. If there were no external objects, it would be senseless to assert that the images in consciousness are "similar" (as images) to something. Yet, objects in the very act of consciousness are perceived as distinct from the subject of perception. When one perceives a pot, one does not identify oneself with it. The Sautrantikas contend that the presented reality in the consciousness of an image perceived as something distinct from oneself is possible under four conditions: (1) there must be the object itself, which causes that specific image to be perceived; (2) the mind must exist as something capable of producing a certain image; (3) there must be a sensory channel through which the object influences the mind; and (4) there must be favorable conditions, such as light, etc. Thus, while the real object itself is not perceived, it is thought of as a necessary condition for the formation of images of objects in the mind in a particular, non-arbitrary manner. Therefore, the presented reality is a product of the mind but under the influence of real objects.

The Vaibhashikas believed that a real object is reflected in the consciousness of the I-subject. In their view, if the objects of the real world were not perceived, it would be impossible to state anything about the correspondence of their form to the perceived image. Hence, either all presented objects are products of consciousness, devoid of any reality beyond them, or if reality exists, its objects are given to us directly.

Another question significant for Indian thinkers was the nature of divine thought and its connection to the world. Unorthodox schools tended to deny the existence of a singular creator God as the ruler of the universe, similarly disregarding the significance of religious worship. Nonetheless, they were all willing to acknowledge the presence of forces more powerful than humans, operating in the world. Interestingly, Jainism and Buddhism, which were originally based on atheistic and non-religious doctrines, ultimately transformed into distinctly religious systems, deifying their founders while assimilating numerous layers of various myths and local cults.

The distinctive views on this matter are evident among the proponents of Purva Mimamsa. Emphasizing the necessity of strict adherence to Vedic ritual, they nonetheless denied the real existence of the gods lauded in hymns. These "gods" are merely images to which the hymn is directed. However, as images, they are not products of human imagination, but constructs of the Vedas, which exist eternally, just as the world does. Outside the Vedas, no gods exist, but the Vedic ritual ensures liberation from suffering and a heavenly existence, for this is how the world is arranged: only through the Vedas does a person attain eternal bliss.

In Sankhya, there is no necessity to conceive of a god, which allows these systems to be interpreted as atheistic. In contrast, the proponents of Yoga and Nyaya-Vaisheshika constructed their worldviews to include a deity. For Nyaya and Vaisheshika adherents, God is the ruler of the world, its organizer, and moral legislator. However, He creates the world from eternally existing material elements and souls. Vaisheshikas held that God creates Brahman as the organizing principle of the world, only to subsequently destroy it, with this cycle repeating endlessly. Notably, souls (and matter) continue to exist in a dormant formless state.

However, the concept of God gained the greatest significance in Vedanta (which is, remember, a theoretical interpretation of the Upanishads). As mentioned earlier, the Upanishads serve as commentaries on the Vedas, where predominantly worldview issues are developed. To explore this teaching in its entirety here is not feasible. In brief, its essence can be encapsulated in a simple formula: everything is Brahman, and apart from Brahman, there is nothing. Atman is Brahman. Atman is the term that denotes the I-subject capable of self-awareness and experiencing sensory states. Shankara (788-820 AD), the author of one of the most powerful versions of Vedanta, known as Advaita Vedanta ("Advaita" signifies the negation of dualism, that is, the duality of the world as containing bodies and conscious souls), pushes this idea to its logical conclusion. There are no "real" objects. Everything present in perception is a peculiar illusion, a mara, the result of the ignorance of the blinded consciousness of the Atman. The force that begets this mara, Maya, obscures the truth and prevents the Atman from recognizing its true divine essence, causing it to endure in the world of suffering. The path to liberation lies in comprehending one's true essence as Atman, which is identical to Brahman; thus, there are no objects or gods separate from the ultimate consciousness, which is everything. In the end, only the supreme consciousness persists, while everything else dissolves into non-existence.

Notably, the subsequent development of philosophical schools in India did not result in the formation of any meaningful synthesis. Rather, the development of various schools appeared to be linear and successive, with no convergence towards common truth or uniformity of thought. Each philosophical tradition stands on its own, showcasing its extraordinary vitality and independence.