Jay Garfield

How to build a theory in cognitive science. Valerie Gray Hardcastle. Albany: State University of New York. Press, 1996Language, thought, and consciousness. Peter Carruthers. Cambridge: Cambridge University. Press, 1996. ISBN 0–521–48158–9 (hc)Young children's knowledge about thinking. John H. Flavell, Frances L. Green & Eleanor R. Flavell with Commentary by Paul L. Harris & Janet Wilde Astington. Monographs of the Society for Research in Child Development, 1995, 60 (1, Serial No, 243) Chicago: The University of Chicago PressValuing emotions. Michael Stocker with Elizabeth Hegeman. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996Explaining attitudes: a practical approach to the mind. Lynne Rudder Baker. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. ISBN 0–521–42053–9 $59.95The prehistory of the mind: a search for the origins of art, religion and science. Steven Mithen. London: Thames and Hudson, 1996The discovery of spoken language Peter Jusczyk. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press/Bradford Books, 1997. ISBN 0–262–10058–4 $32.50Noam Chomsky: a life of dissent. Robert F. Barksky Cambridge, MA: MIT Press ISBN 0–262–02418–7 $27.50.

"'Buddhist Ethics' presents an outline of Buddhist ethical thought. It is not a defense of Buddhist approaches to ethics as opposed to any other, nor is it a critique of the Western tradition. Garfield presents a broad overview of a range of Buddhist approaches to the question of moral philosophy. He argues that while there are important points of contact with these Western frameworks, Buddhist ethics is distinctive, and is a kind of moral phenomenology that is concerned with the ways in which we experience ourselves as agents and others as moral fellows"--

Why you don’t have a self—and why that’s a good thing In Losing Ourselves, Jay Garfield, a leading expert on Buddhist philosophy, offers a brief and radically clear account of an idea that at first might seem frightening but that promises to liberate us and improve our lives, our relationships, and the world. Drawing on Indian and East Asian Buddhism, Daoism, Western philosophy, and cognitive neuroscience, Garfield shows why it is perfectly natural to think you have a self—and why it actually makes no sense at all and is even dangerous. Most importantly, he explains why shedding the illusion that you have a self can make you a better person. Examining a wide range of arguments for and against the existence of the self, Losing Ourselves makes the case that there are not only good philosophical and scientific reasons to deny the reality of the self, but that we can lead healthier social and moral lives if we understand that we are selfless persons. The book describes why the Buddhist idea of no-self is so powerful and why it has immense practical benefits, helping us to abandon egoism, act more morally and ethically, be more spontaneous, perform more expertly, and navigate ordinary life more skillfully. Getting over the self-illusion also means escaping the isolation of self-identity and becoming a person who participates with others in the shared enterprise of life. The result is a transformative book about why we have nothing to lose—and everything to gain—by losing our selves.

This paper examines the work of the unsung modern Indian Philosopher A. C. Mukerji, in his major works Self, Thought and Reality (1933) and The Nature of Self (1938). Mukerji constructs a skeptical challenge that emerges from the union of ideas drawn from early modern Europe, neo-Hegelian philosophy, and classical Buddhism and Vedānta. Mukerji’s worries about skepticism are important in part because they illustrate many of the creative tensions within the modern, synthetic period of Indian philosophy, and in part because they are truly profound, anticipating in interesting ways the worries that Feyerabend was to raise a few decades later. Arguing that Humean, Kantian, neo-Hegelian, and Buddhist philosophy each fail to provide an adequate account of self-knowledge, Mukerji leverages this finding to further argue that these systems fail to offer a proper account of knowledge more generally. His solution to skepticism centers on a distinctively modern interpretation of Śaṅkara’s Vedānta.

This paper examines the work of Nāgārjuna as interpreted by later Madhyamaka tradition, including the Tibetan Buddhist Tsongkhapa (1357–1419). It situates Madhyamaka skepticism in the context of Buddhist philosophy, Indian philosophy more generally, and Western equivalents. Find it broadly akin to Pyrrhonism, it argues that Madhyamaka skepticism still differs from its Greek equivalents in fundamental methodologies. Focusing on key hermeneutical principles like the two truths and those motivating the Svātantrika/Prāsaṅgika schism (i.e., whether followers of Nāgārjuna should offer positive arguments or should proceed on a purely “negative” basis), it argues that the Svātantrika commitment to mere conventional practice is robust and allows for a skepticism consistent with the scientific practices we must take seriously in the modern world. These findings are put forth as an illustration of what the Western tradition might gain by better understanding of non-Western philosophy.

ABSTRACT While—as Yancy himself reminds us regularly in this book—philosophy may begin in wonder, it cannot end there. Philosophical thought must move from wonder to commitment, whether that commitment is to something as abstract as the nature of numbers or as morally pressing as the response to racism. Philosophy, however intellectual an exercise it may be, is only worth pursuing if it addresses what is important to us, and only if in philosophizing we commit ourselves to making a difference, to transforming ourselves and to benefiting our fellows. I was particularly struck when reading Across Black Spaces by Prof. Yancy’s project of recovery, specifically his recovery of the work of Thomas Nelson Baker, Gilbert Haven Jones, and Joyce Mitchell Cook—three profoundly original African American philosophers whose achievements are largely ignored in America today. My interest in this section of the book was piqued in part because of my own experience, in close collaboration with my colleague Nalini Bhushan, in a recovery project. In that case we were working to recover the work of Indian philosophers of the late 19th and early 20th century whose work had fallen into obscurity. That project led us to reflect on our own reasons for engaging in this kind of history of philosophy. John Makeham’s work recovering the work of the early 20th‐Century New Confucians, who fused Buddhist Yogācāra, Confucian ethics, and Pragmatist philosophy of science provides another example of this kind of enterprise. Reflection on these projects constitutes the background for my own thoughts about Prof. Yancy’s similar project.

In Tibetan discussions of the two truths—and in particular in Geluk discussions, inflected as they are by both Dharmakīrti's and Candrakīrti's epistemologies, which, however different they are, agree on the necessity of epistemic warrant for genuine knowledge, and on the appropriateness of particular epistemic warrants or instruments to their respective objects of knowledge—the nature of our knowledge of the ultimate truth leads to interesting epistemological and ontological problems. Given that the ultimate truth must be a possible object of knowledge, there must be a pramāṇa by means of which it is known. But only buddhas or bodhisattvas on the path of seeing or above are capable of directly perceiving the...

Investigation of the Percept is a short work that focuses on issues of perception and epistemology. Its author, Dignaga, was one of the most influential figures in the Indian Buddhist epistemological tradition, and his ideas had a profound and wide-ranging impact in India, Tibet, and China. The work inspired more than twenty commentaries throughout East Asia and three in Tibet, the most recent in 2014.This book is the first of its kind in Buddhist studies: a comprehensive history of a text and its commentarial tradition. The volume editors translate the root text and commentary, along with Indian and Tibetan commentaries, providing detailed analyses of the commentarial innovations of each author, as well as critically edited versions of all texts and extant Sanskrit fragments of passages. The team-based approach made it possible to study and translate a corpus of treatises in Sanskrit, Tibetan, and Chinese and to employ the methods of critical philology and cross-cultural philosophy to provide readers with a rich collection of studies and translations, along with detailed philosophical analyses that open up the intriguing implications of Dignaga's thought and demonstrate the diversity of commentarial approaches to his text.This rich text has inspired some of the greatest minds in India and Tibet. It explores some of the key issues of Buddhist epistemology: the relationship between minds and their percepts, the problems of idealism and realism, and error and misperception.

Philosophers and Cognitive Scientists have become accustomed to distinguishing the first person perspective from the third person perspective on reality or experience. This is sometimes meant to mark the distinction between the “objective” or “intersubjective” attitude towards things and the “subjective” or “personal” attitude. Sometimes, it is meant to mark the distinction between knowledge and mere opinion. Sometimes it is meant to mark the distinction between an essentially private and privileged access to an inner world and a merely inferential or speculative access to that world. No doubt there are other uses as well. But I don't care about this dichotomy here, or indeed any of these putative distinctions it is alleged to mark. Instead, I want to call attention to the central role of the less often acknowledged grammatical and phenomenological category, that of the second person. This category is essential not only for understanding the development of self-understanding, but also for the development of the moral sense that allows us to participate in the societies that constitute us as persons. The task of moral education is the cultivation of care for second persons. But we do so by extending not self-regard (for that is inextensible—others are not oneself), but by extending the spontaneous caring response we have for those with whom we immediately interact—second persons. Our moral lives, I will argue, like our cognitive lives, cannot be understood without understanding the special nature of second person relationships. In short, I will argue that the second person perspective is in fact essential to the constitution of human subjectivity, and that it permeates all forms of interpersonal consciousness and even self-consciousness.

India has been independent for 70 years now, and it is a good time to reflect on the political philosophy that underwrote the movement that gained that independence. When we do so, we discover the origins of a political vocabulary that is still in use today, although sadly not used with the same rigor and precision with which it was used then. We also find that those who recur to Indian political thought from the pre-independence period tend to return to a single strand of that thought—the theorization of ahimsa by Mohandas K. Gandhi, as for instance in the recent essay on Indian political thought in The New York Times by Gopalkrishna Gandhi (Gandhi won’t leave India 2017). In this discussion, we hope to draw attention to some of the less well-known resources offered by pre-independence Indian philosophy and in particular the political thought of the Arya samaji Congressman, philosopher and political activist, Lajpat Rai. His political philosophy is important for understanding the theorization of and debates within the Indian independence movement; we think that it also suggests ways to think about contemporary political and revolutionary movements and merits consideration in current debates in political philosophy.

The Buddha famously enunciated the four reliances: “Rely on the teaching, not the teacher; rely on the meaning, not the words; rely on the definitive, not that which requires further interpretation; rely on direct insight, not conceptuality.” This chapter explores methodological problems arising in Buddhist philosophy. It addresses hermeneutical questions about the special problems involved in interpreting texts across cultures and considers problems that arise from translation and the consideration of philosophy conducted in radically different vocabularies and cultural registers. It proposes a conversational model of engagement and suggests that this engagement can deepen not only Western philosophers’ understanding of Buddhist and other non-Western philosophy, but of Western philosophy as well.