- Note: this essay is an expanded version of an earlier comment; see the comment and subsequent discussion here.
It is rather curious that certain commentators, such as Ven Thanissaro, argue that anattā means “not self” rather than “no self”, for the distinction between “not-self” and “no-self” is not found in Pali. Anyway, no knowledgeable translator actually translates anattā as “no self”. Try translating sabbe dhammā anattā as “All things are no self”—it just doesn’t work.
It’s a straw man argument. The problem here, to be clear, is not whether or not some people have in fact made the arguments that Ven Thanissaro claims. It is that he repeatedly relies on this as a rhetorical device, framing his argument as that of an insightful truth-teller, an outsider able to shed the delusions that have transfixed the mainstream. Such rhetoric is a staple of conspiracy theorists, and is not worthy of a genuine Dhamma discussion.
It turns out this is just a part of a much wider set of beliefs. Ven Thanissaro, over many years, has repeatedly made the exact same argument about not-self: it is a strategy, not a metaphysical claim about what exists. In doing so, he relies heavily on a single passage, SN 44.10. In a 2014 article for Tricycle, he says:
When Vacchagotta the wanderer asked him point-blank whether or not there is a self, the Buddha remained silent
In his writings, he alleges that this is “usually” explained away by “some” who say that Vacchagotta is confused. But he doesn’t cite a single example of anyone doing so: this is another straw man. In any case, the sutta itself states outright:
“When Vacchagotta asked me whether the self does not exist, if I had answered that ‘the self does not exist’, Vacchagotta—who is already confused—would have got even more confused, thinking:
‘It seems that the self that I once had no longer exists.’”
Since the sutta says that Vacchagotta would have become confused, what’s wrong with modern commentators simply restating what the sutta says? Now I’m getting confused!
Ven Thanissaro alleges, again without citation, that other commentators ignore the other reasons given in the sutta for not answering. Insofar as this is an argument at all, it’s a weak one: why should people not emphasize the aspects of the sutta that appear most relevant to them? Why are others under an obligation to prioritize the things Ven Thanissaro thinks are important?
In any case, it is simply not true. The issue was discussed, for example, in 2000 by Ven Bodhi in his footnote to his translation of this sutta in his Connected Discourses, where he rejects Ven Thanissaro’s “strategy of perception” argument:
Probably this means that Vacchagotta would have interpreted the Buddha’s denial as a rejection of his empirical personality, which (on account of his inclination towards views of self) he would have been identifying as a self. We should carefully heed the two reasons the Buddha does not declare, “There is no self”: not because he recognizes a transcendent self of some kind (as some interpreters allege), or because he is concerned only with delineating “a strategy of perception” devoid of ontological implications (as others hold), but (i) because such a mode of expression was used by the annihilationists, and the Buddha wanted to avoid aligning his teaching with theirs; and (ii) because he wished to avoid causing confusion in those already attached to the idea of self. The Buddha declares that “all phenomena are nonself” (sabbe dhammā anattā), which means that if one seeks a self anywhere one will not find one. Since “all phenomena” includes both the conditioned and the unconditioned, this precludes an utterly transcendent, ineffable self.
Ven Thanissaro responded to this in a 2004 comment, where he denied it on the basis that nowhere in the canon are the annihilationists said to declare that there is no self. But Ven Bodhi was merely restating exactly what is said in the sutta itself:
When Vacchagotta asked me whether the self does not exist, if I had answered that ‘the self does not exist’ I would have been siding with the ascetics and brahmins who are annihilationists.
In The Not-Self Strategy and the Mind Like Fire Unbound, Ven Thanissaro bolsters his argument by a comparison of the Vacchagotta passage with a passage in the Sutta Nipāta (Snp 5.16). There, a certain Mogharāja asks how to regard the world so that one is not seen by the King of Death. The Buddha replies that one should see the world as empty, be mindful, and dispel the view of self. Thanissaro argues that the reason the Buddha answered Mogharaja but not Vacchagotta was because the question of one was asked as a strategy, but the other was asked as metaphysics.
The fundamental difference between this dialogue & the preceding one lies in the questions asked: In the first, Vacchagotta asks the Buddha to take a position on the metaphysical question of whether or not there is a self, and the Buddha remains silent. In the second, Mogharāja asks for a way to view the world so that one can go beyond death, and the Buddha speaks, teaching him to view the world without reference to the notion of self. This suggests that, instead of being a metaphysical assertion that there is no self, the teaching on not-self is more a strategy, a technique of perception aimed at leading beyond death to Unbinding. (MLFU)
But a glance at the context of Snp 5.16 is enough to dismiss this point. Remember, in SN 44.10, Vacchagotta asks his question once; not getting his answer, he leaves. In Snp 5.16, Mogharaja begins by saying,
Dvāhaṃ sakkaṃ apucchissaṃ, Na me byākāsi cakkhumā;
“I have asked the Sakyan this question twice already, but the Buddha did not answer me.”
The difference, again simply restating the suttas, is that Mogharāja stayed around and kept asking, while Vacchagotta didn’t. Why, one may wonder, was the Buddha reluctant to answer Mogharāja immediately, given that he was explicitly asking about a strategy, not metaphysics? The text does not tell us, but the commentary, reasonably enough, says Mogharāja was not ready to understand when he asked earlier.
This is not the only way in which Ven Thanissaro has omitted essential context. He criticizes anonymous “many commentators” who, it seems,
noting the Buddha’s desire not to bewilder Vacchagotta, assume somehow that their readers and listeners at present would not be bewildered by a doctrine that there is no self, and feel free to jump into the breach, stating baldly what they believe the Buddha was simply too reticent to say.
As already mentioned, the Buddha states explicitly in the sutta that Vacchagotta would have become confused. Vacchagotta is notorious for approaching the Buddha on many, many occasions, asking his questions, and being unconvinced or confused. In SN 44.9, for example, he expresses bewilderment at what happens when an arahant passes away. So for modern commentators—if, indeed, they exist—to assume a level of understanding greater than Vacchagotta’s is hardly unreasonable.
Now, so far the argument that not-self is “more of a strategy” is based on unconvincing exegesis. But let us leave that aside and focus on the main point: is it really true that the Buddha made a fundamental distinction between a strategy and an ontology? I don’t think so. The distinction between what “is” and what “should be done”, between a strategy and an ontology, is not a valid one. It is, I would posit, an unwanted intrusion from empirical Western philosophy, which has the fact/value distinction at its heart.
In the Buddha’s teaching, dhamma is both a fact and a value: it tells us both what is and what we should do about it. That’s the point. The nature of the world itself is what shapes our response. If we don’t have any idea about what is real and what is not, if we don’t have a theoretical grasp of the world that is accurate (sammādiṭṭhi), then how are we supposed to set out on our path?
Thus to sum up: Ven Thanissaro has:
- repeatedly criticized views without citation;
- dismissed arguments that restate what is said in the sutta;
- misleadingly omitted essential context;
- invoked a theoretical distinction that has no place in the Dhamma.
Let us move on, then, and consider: what exactly is going on in the dialogue with Vacchagotta? I have discussed some related issues in a previous note:
That article discusses the use of the verb atthi (“to be”) in a textually problematic passage of MN 90. It turns out that that the linguistic forms of the statements in SN 44.10 and MN 90 are virtually identical:
“Kiṃ pana, bhante, atthi devā”ti? (MN 90)
“Kiṃ pana, bho gotama, natthattā”ti? (SN 44.10)
(The last words in the line from SN 44.10 are joined, this is normal. It resolves to na atthi attā.)
In both cases, the text only really makes sense when atthi is read in a pregnant metaphysical sense: to exist eternally and absolutely. This way of looking at existence is fundamental to the Upaniṣadic philosophy, so it is not all surprising to find it when dealing with a non-Buddhist such as Vacchagotta.
As a bit of background, Pali has two words for the verb “to be”. The more common, bhavati, is typically used in a subordinate sense as a copula, eg., when saying that “that car is red”. Atthi, which is used here, has a stronger sense and is used as a “full verb” in asserting the existence of something. There is quite a nice discussion of the difference in Andries Breunis’ The Nominal Sentence in Sanskrit and Middle Indo-Aryan.
In reading the verb atthi with the sense of “absolute, eternal, essential existence”, we are not forcing anything on the text. Indeed, the Buddha explicitly says that he avoids saying atthattā in order to avoid siding with the “eternalists”, i.e. those who postulate an eternal existence, prominent among whom were the Upanishadic brahmins.
“Ānanda, when Vacchagotta asked me whether the self exists, if I had answered that ‘the self exists’ I would have been siding with the ascetics and brahmins who are eternalists.
Similarly, when discussing the negative form of the statement, it only really makes sense if “existence” is considered in an absolute sense:
When Vacchagotta asked me whether the self does not exist, if I had answered that ‘the self does not exist’ I would have been siding with the ascetics and brahmins who are annihilationists.
To be clear, the annihilationist view is that there is a self, but that self is destroyed (usually at the time of death). Clearly this is not what we mean when we say in English that “the self does not exist”.
Either the text is incoherent, or the notion of existence is quite different. Since we know that such notions of existence were, in fact, prevalent in ancient India, that must be the preferred reading.
In light of these reflections, it will be best to translate the passage with something like the following:
“Ānanda, when Vacchagotta asked me whether the self exists in an absolute sense, if I had answered that ‘the self exists in an absolute sense’ I would have been siding with the ascetics and brahmins who are eternalists.
When Vacchagotta asked me whether the self does not exist in an absolute sense, if I had answered that ‘the self does not exist in an absolute sense’ I would have been siding with the ascetics and brahmins who are annihilationists.
The idea that “existence” implies an absolute and eternal form of existence is not inferred or imposed on the text, but is stated explicitly:
“When Vacchagotta asked me whether the self does not exist in an absolute sense, if I had answered that ‘the self does not exist in an absolute sense’, Vacchagotta—who is already confused—would have got even more confused, thinking: ‘It seems that the self that I once had no longer exists.’”
So the text states that the meaning of “doesn’t exist”, as understood by Vacchagotta, is something that does exist, but only temporarily, so it will pass away. In our different philosophical and linguistic background, this is not at all what we mean when we say that something does not exist, so it must be translated in a way that brings out the contextual meaning.
Verbs around being and existence are some of the most fraught and subtle in all of philosophy. Modern western philosophy, with a whole movement devoted to “existentialism”, and many other takes on the matter, can overlap and illuminate aspects of the Dhamma, but it is informed by a distinctly different set of historical concerns than what is found in Indian philosophy. For those of us who are interested to understand what the Buddha meant when he was speaking with his contemporaries, it is important to study and understand what those philosophies were. And when doing so, we shouldn’t approach them in order to either bolster or refute our own takes on the Buddha’ teachings, but to understand them sympathetically as genuine human responses to life and its challenges.
The Buddha was not trapped by his historical context; he engaged with it, vigorously and intelligently. His teaching, as understood by all Buddhist traditions, pierced the veil of unknowing and revealed the world as it is. It was his profound insight into the nature of reality itself, of how reality is infused with suffering at every turn, that shaped his understanding of the path that leads to the ending of suffering. He saw that attachment to identity, the false and baseless clinging to a self that is just not there, is a fundamental drive that traps us in suffering. At every turn, he aimed to detach us from this delusion, to shed our mistaken belief in a self, and find freedom.
