Your Meditation Guide Blog

I have two altars where I keep my Buddha statue and other sacred objects. The main one where I meditate is in the front room with a framed picture of my teacher, Thich Nhat Hanh with prayer beads draped around it. Along with of course a lovely statuette of Buddha. I keep a second but smaller one in the bedroom with a picture of the Dalai Lama and one of Thich Nhat Hanh above on the wall.

Well, whenever I look at these pictures of these two men I think of loving grandfathers who patiently pass on wisdom to the younger generations. I smile looking at their kind and warm faces feeling comfort that they are with us. They are two of the world's grandfathers and we are very lucky to have them in ourlives. I was recently sent two copies of the DL's latest book, "Becoming Enlightened" to review one and to give the other away to one of my readers.

This latest book is a real gem to add to your Buddhist literature because it is a well written introduction to the Buddhist path. That said, however, it has much to offer the long-time practitioner and it did me a lot of good to reread the basics so to speak. It is a very quick read (I read it in 3 days) and it offers contemplation exercises at the end of each chapter, which are summaries of what was covered. I think they will be very useful when I want to meditate upon something said in the chapter without having to reread the entire chapter.

The Dalai Lama begins by saying that we should be open minded about other religions and Buddhist traditions because religion is relative to each individual. And as he mentions, the Buddha did not always teach the most profound teachings to all students. He taught according to the individuals interests and dispositions. So in other words, whatever benefits that person most is best for them. It makes a lot of sense and explains why there are so many religions and sects.

He reminds us that we are in a favorable position to make great progress toward enlightenment with this very human existence. It is a precious state and we must do our best not to waste it upon afflictive, selfish things. He speaks a lot in the book about the benefits and importance of selflessness as it is hard to have hatred, greed and delusion in our hearts if we are acting in an altruistic and selfless manor.

Another teaching that I really responded too was that of how if we realize that much of our suffering is our own fault from past actions that we can accept the pain easier and move past it because as he said, "This is the nature of cyclic existence." I think I'm going to use that phrase as my new mantra because I have experienced its power to help already in the few meditations I've incorporated it within since reading this book.

He also warns against worshiping gods instead of putting all confidence in Buddha saying, "Altruism based on love and compassion is the avenue to all these benefits. This is the beauty of Buddhism. But if you leave your afflictive emotions as they are, then even if you imagine a god of long life to your right, a god of wealth to your left, and a god of medicine in front of you, and you recite a mantra a billion times, still you will find it hard to achieve anything."

He spends a lot of time discussing our relationships and how we should practice compassion toward all beings regardless of if we agree with them or get along with them. All are deserving of compassion--even the most hardened criminals. In specific this quote really put this into perspective and like usual the truth often only requires a few words. "Real compassion does not depend on whether the other person is nice to you."

I was happy that His Holiness added a section on including animals in our compassion and spoke of the horrors of the factory farming of animals for meat. It is curious then, however, why the Dalai Lama still chooses to eat meat. I know his doctors tell him he needs the meat for his health, however, I wonder if he's getting the best and latest advice/information because It is very easy for people to be healthy without eating meat.

Though I am a strong advocate for animal rights and vegetarianism it is not my place to judge anyone who decides to keep eating meat (least of all the Dalai Lama). I am not a militant vegetarian who screams and yells at those who do eat meat because it doesn't do any good and becoming vegetarian must come from a place of sincerity and personal conviction to last--not from being guilted and shamed into it. I do not think that one must be a vegetarian to be a Buddhist but I think it helps in cultivating compassion.

Overall I really enjoyed the book and will keep it as a handy desk reference to the foundations of Buddhist practice. It's a great read for say a weekend get away or a overseas flight. As I alluded to above, some of the best wisdom is said in few words.

As I stated in the top of the post I have a second copy of this book to give away. Due to a lack of funds though I can only open this up to those living in the U.S., Mexico or Canada. Unless you are willing to pay the overseas shipping and if you are then I'll be happy to send it to you. So just leave a short message in the comments saying you'd like your name to be entered into the mix. Or email me: jaymur-at-gmail.com

I'll leave the submission period up for a week, which means have your name submitted by next Thursday and I'll make the selection on Friday. Here's how it will go: I will write each name on a piece of paper, fold it in half, and drop them into a hat. After all names are dropped in the hat I will have a third party (my wife) pick a name out of the hat that I will hold up high so that she can't see the pieces of paper. Good luck!!

Continuing our discussion of Platt’s classical paper on “strong inference” and, more broadly, the difference between soft and hard science, another reason for the difference between these two types of science mentioned but left unexamined by Platt is the relative complexity of the subject matters of different scientific disciplines. It seems to me trivially true that particle physics does in fact deal with the simplest objects in the entire universe: atoms and their constituents. At the opposite extreme, biology takes on the most complex things known to humanity: organisms made of billions of cells, and ecosystems whose properties are affected by tens of thousands of variables. In the middle we have a range of sciences dealing with the relatively simple (chemistry) or the slightly more complex (astronomy, geology), roughly on a continuum that parallels the popular perception of the divide between hard and soft disciplines. That is, a reasonable argument can in fact be made that, so to speak, physicists have been successful because they had it easy. This is of course by no means an attempt to downplay the spectacular progress of physics or chemistry, just to put it in a more reasonable perspective: if you are studying simple phenomena, are given loads of money to do it, and you are able to attract the brightest minds because they think that what you do is really cool, it would be astounding if you had not made dazzling progress!

Perhaps the most convincing piece of evidence in favor of a relationship between simplicity of the subject matter and success rate is provided by molecular biology, and in particular by its recent transition from a chemistry-like discipline to a more obviously biological one. Platt wrote his piece in 1964, merely eleven years after Watson, Crick and Franklin discovered the double helix structure of DNA. Other discoveries followed at a breath-taking pace, including the demonstration of how, from a chemical perspective, DNA replicates itself; the unraveling of the genetic code; the elucidation of many aspects of the intricate molecular machinery of the cell; and so on. But by the 1990s molecular biology began to move into the new phase of genomics, where high throughput instruments started churning a bewildering amount of data that had to be treated by statistical methods (one of the hallmarks of “soft” science). While early calls for the funding of the human genome project, for instance, made wildly optimistic claims about scientists soon being able to understand how to make a human being, cure cancer, and so on, we are in fact almost comically far from achieving those goals. The realization is beginning to dawn even on molecular biologists that the golden era of fast and sure progress may be over, and that we are now faced with unwieldy mountains of details about the biochemistry and physiology of living organisms that are very difficult to make sense of. In other words, we are witnessing the transformation of a hard science into a soft one!

Despite all of the reservations that I detailed above, let us proceed to tackle Platt’s main point: that the difference between hard and soft science is a matter of method, in particular what he refers to as “strong inference.” Inference, of course, is a general term for whenever we arrive at a (tentative) conclusion based on the available evidence concerning a particular problem or subject matter. If we are investigating a crime, for instance, we may infer who committed the murder from an analysis of fingerprints, weapon, motives, circumstances, etc. An inference can be weaker or stronger depending on how much evidence points to a particular conclusion rather than to another one, and also on the number of possible alternative solutions (if there are too many competing hypotheses the evidence may simply not be sufficient to discriminate among them, a situation that philosophers call the underdetermination of theories by the data). The term “strong inference” was used by Platt to indicate the following procedure:

1. Formulate a series of alternative hypotheses;
2. Set up a series of “crucial” experiments to test these hypotheses; ideally, each experiment should be able to rule out a particular hypothesis, if the hypothesis is in fact false;
3. Carry out the experiments in as clear-cut a manner as possible (to reduce ambiguities of interpretation of the results);
4. Eliminate the hypotheses that failed step (3) and go back to step (1) until you are left with the winner.

Or, as Sherlock Holmes famously put it in The Sign of Four, “when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.” Sounds simple enough. Why is it, then, that physicists can do it but ecologists or psychologist can’t get such a simple procedure right?

If Platt’s strong inference sounds familiar, it should: it is related to Francis Bacon’s method of induction, and Platt explicitly invokes the British philosopher in his article. The appeal of strong inference is that it is an extremely logical way of doing things: Platt envisions a logical decision tree, similar to those implemented in many computer programs, where each experiment tells us that one branch of the tree (one hypothesis) is to be discarded, until we arrive at the correct solution. For Platt, hard science works because its practitioners are well versed in strong inference, always busy pruning their logical trees; conversely, for some perverse reason scientists in the soft sciences stubbornly refuse to engage in such a successful practice, and as a consequence waste their careers disseminating bricks of knowledge in their courtyards, rather than building fantastical cathedrals of thought. There seems to be something obviously flawed with this picture: it is difficult to imagine that professionally trained scientists would not realize that they are going about their business in an entirely wrong fashion, and moreover that the solution is so simple that a high school student could easily understand and implement it. What is going on?

We can get a clue to the answer by examining Platt’s own examples of successful application of strong inference. For instance, from molecular biology, he mentions the discovery of the double helix structure of DNA, the hereditary material. Watson, Crick, Franklin and other people working on the problem (such as twice-Nobel laureate Linus Pauling, who actually came very close to beating the Watson-Crick team to the finishing line) were faced by a limited number of clear-cut alternatives: either DNA was made of two strands (as Watson and Crick thought, and as turned out to be the case) or three (as Pauling erroneously concluded). Even with such a simple choice, there really wasn’t any “crucial experiment” that settled the matter, but Watson and Crick had sufficient quantitative information from a variety of sources (chiefly Franklin’s crystallographic analyses) to eventually determine that the two-helix model was the winner. Another example from Platt’s article comes from high-energy physics, and deals with the question of whether fundamental particles always conserve a particular quantity called “parity.” The answer is yes or no, with no other possibilities, and a small number of experiments rapidly arrived at the solution: parity is not always conserved. Period. What these cases of success in the hard sciences have in common is that they really do lend themselves to a straightforward logical analysis: there is a limited number of options, and they are mutually exclusive. Just like logical trees work very well in classic Aristotelian logic (where the only values that can be attached to a proposition are True or False), so strong inference works well with a certain type of scientific question.

Yet, any logician knows very well that the realm of application of Aristotelian logic is rather limited, because many interesting questions do not admit of simple yes/no answers. Accordingly, modern logic has developed a variety of additional methods (for instance, modal logic) to deal with more nuanced situations that are typical of real-world problems. Similarly, the so-called soft sciences are concerned largely with complex issues that require more sophisticated, but often less clear cut, approaches; these approaches may be less satisfactory (but more realistic) than strong inference, in that they yield probabilistic (as opposed to qualitative) answers. Soft science, then, is soft because of very good reasons intrinsic in the nature of the object of study, certainly not because of the intellectual inferiority of its practitioners.

When we practice zazen [Zen Meditation] our mind always follows our breathing. When we inhale, the air comes into the inner world. When we exhale, the air goes to the outer world. The inner world is limitless, and the outer world is also limitless. We say "inner world" or "outer world," but actually there is just one whole world. In this limitless world, our throat is like a swinging door.

The air comes in and goes out like someone passing through a swinging door. If you think, "I breathe," the "I" is extra. There is no you to say "I." What we call "I" is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale. It just moves; that is all. When your mind is pure and calm enough to follow this movement, there is nothing: no "I," no world, no mind nor body; just a swinging door.

--Shunryu Suzuki, Zen Mind, Beginner's Mind.

James: I often am asked why I chose Zen Buddhism over the other Buddhist traditions. I have written about this before but I'd like to write about it again, however, hopefully from a bit of a different angle. I respond well to the stripped down nature of Zen Buddhism as seen in this quote by the Zen legend Suzuki. I was raised in a very dogmatic religion and found it to be less helpful and I think that past experience led me in part to Zen, which (in my view) the least complicated form of Buddhism. For me it demystifies Buddhism and does a great job of focusing on the basics of Buddha's Dharma.

As well as the focus on Zazen (meditation) because that is something that I can easily understand and implement. I continue to study the sutras and canons and I certainly do not want my readers to think that I don't value them at all nor think them necessary to understanding Dharma because they do overall offer essential wisdom. That said, I find it more valuable in my personal practice to spend more time meditating than doing rituals (thought I find some ritual to beneficial) and keeping track of deities except as archetypes. I also like that Zen (in my view) is a bit more flexible in regards to dogma.

I find great success in Thich Nhat Hanh's style of Zen, which gets back to the very basic teachings of Buddha such as focusing on one's breath (as mentioned by Suzuki) while meditating and extending that formal meditation practice to everything that I do. So that mindfulness is the center of my practice, which cuts through the fat so to speak to better enable self-awakening. In my practice I have found that focusing on living in the present moment is where the essence of Buddhism flowers like a lotus.

I like that Buddhism has many flavors because it is more proof to me that karma is indeed apart of our lives. I believe it is this varied karma that, in part directs us toward one school of Buddhism over another. I'm currently reading the new book by His Holiness the Dalai Lama, "Becoming Enlightened" for a review and he speaks about these different variations in Buddhism.

When teachings at particular students are examined as a body of work, it is possible for their surface of literal meanings not to be in agreement, since their purpose is to help in ways appropriate to a student's current situation. Buddha himself sometimes taught this way, based on a trainee's need.

He also has some real gems of wisdom in warning against a stubborn, strict adherenace to dogma:

For a teaching to be a suitable source of refuge, it must pass the scrutiny of reasoned reflection and must be highly beneficial. A famous Chilean scientist told me that a scientific researcher should not be attached to science, and I believe that in much the same way a Buddhist should not be attached to Buddhist doctrine as such, but instead should value teachings and teachers that can bear investigation into their validity. The scientific attitude and the Buddhist approach are the same in this case.

Now, of course some dogma is essential to maintaining a religion but I have personally found that a little goes a long way. Remember though that this is my personal experience, I'm not a sanctioned teacher nor a Buddhist scholar but have seen the damaging effects of a heavy handed dogma.

So while I am a Zen student I find much to agree with in these two quotes from the Dalai Lama as well as from many of the great Theravadan teachers. I think all traditions of Buddhism have something essential to offer the others. I don't think that there is one form that is "superior" to any other but again that the variations are there to take into account our different karma, life experiences and socio-economic-cultural differences.

In doing some research for my next book (on the differences between science and pseudoscience), I re-read this rather stunning piece of writing: “Scientists these days tend to keep up a polite fiction that all science is equal. Except for the work of the misguided opponent whose arguments we happen to be refuting at the time, we speak as though every scientist's field and methods of study are as good as every other scientist's, and perhaps a little better. This keeps us all cordial when it comes to recommending each other for government grants.” Candid words about the nature of the scientific enterprise as seen from the inside by a participating scientist. And what makes these sentences even more remarkable is that they were not uttered behind close doors in a room full of smoke, but printed in one of the premiere scientific magazines in the world, Science. It was 1964, the year I was born, and the author was John R. Platt, a biophysicist at the University of Chicago. The debate between scientists on what constitutes “hard” (often equated with good, sound) and “soft” (implicitly considered less good) science has not subsided since.

Platt was frustrated by the fact that some fields of science make clear and rapid progress, while others keep mucking around without seemingly been able to accomplish much of relevance. As Platt put it, in the same article: “We speak piously of ... making small studies that will add another brick to the temple of science. Most such bricks just lie around the brickyard.” Physics, chemistry and molecular biology are considered by Platt (and many others) as hard sciences, the quintessential model of what science ought to be. Ecology, evolutionary biology, and even more, fields like psychology and sociology, are soft sciences, and the maximal aspiration of people working in these fields is assumed to be to find a way to make their disciplines as hard as physics. Platt’s article is a classic that should be read by anyone interested in the nature of science, and he was right in pointing out the problem; he was not quite as right in diagnosing its roots however, and even less so at suggesting a possible cure.

Platt’s attack on soft science began by stressing the fact that some disciplines seem to make fast and impressive progress, while others have a tendency of going around in circles, or at best move slowly and uncertainly. Before we examine why this is and what could possibly be done about it, a more fundamental question is whether Platt is correct at all in identifying the existence of a problem. It seems clear from even a cursory examination of the history of science that Platt is at least partially correct: some sciences do progress significantly more than others. However, the pattern appears more complex than a line dividing “hard” from “soft” disciplines: it is true that, say, particle physics and molecular biology have made spectacular advances during the 20th century; but it is also true that physics itself went through long periods of stasis on certain problems, for instance the long interval on the question of the nature of gravity between Newton and Einstein. And such periods of slow progress may occur again in the future, even for “the queen” of sciences: for all the talk about a “unified theory of everything,” physicists have been trying to reconcile the known discrepancies between their two most successful theories, general relativity and quantum mechanics, for close to a century; they have not succeeded yet.

Organismal biology (ecology and evolutionary biology) is often considered a quasi-soft science, and yet it has seen periods of great progress -- most obviously with Darwin during the second half of the 19th century, and more recently during the 1930s and 40s. Moreover, there is currently quite a bit of excited activity in both empirical and theoretical evolutionary biology, which may be leading to another major leap forward in our understanding of how organisms evolve and adapt to their environments. Molecular biology, on the other hand, hailed by Platt as a very successful hard science on the model of chemistry and physics, may be in the process of running into the limits of what it can achieve without falling back on “softer” and more messy approaches to its subject matter: it is true that the discovery of the structure of DNA in 1953 is one of the all-time landmarks of science; but it is equally clear that the much-touted sequencing of the whole human genome has provided very few hard answers for biologists, instead leading to a large number of “bricks laying around the brickyard,” as Platt would have put it. We know a lot more about the human (and other) genomes, but much of what we know is a complex mess of details that is difficult to extricate and to make into a clear picture of how genomes work and evolve.

All in all, it seems that one can indeed make an argument that different scientific disciplines proceed at dramatically different paces, but it is also true that the very same science may undergo fits and starts, sometimes enjoying periods of steady and fast progress, at other times being bogged down into a spell of going nowhere, either empirically (lack of new discoveries) or theoretically (lack of new insights).

If we agree that the nature of science is along the lines that I have just described, next we need to ask why it is so. Platt briefly mentions a number of possibilities, which he dismisses without discussion, but that we need to pay some attention to before we move to his main point. These alternative hypotheses for why a given science may behave “softly” include “the tractability of the subject, or the quality of education of the men [sic] drawn into it, or the size of research contracts.” In other words, particle physics, say, may be more successful than ecology because it is easier (more tractable), or because ecologists tend to be dumber than physicists, or because physicists get a lot more money for their research than ecologists do.

The second scenario is rather offensive (to the ecologists at least), but more importantly there are no data at all to back it up. And it is difficult to see how one could possibly measure the alleged differential “education” of people attracted to different scientific disciplines. Nearly all professional scientists nowadays have a Ph.D. in their discipline, as well as years of postdoctoral experience at conducting research and publishing papers. It is hard to imagine a reliable quantitative measure of the relative difficulty of their respective academic curricula, and it is next to preposterous to argue that scientists attracted to certain disciplines are smarter than those who find a different area of research more appealing. It would be like attempting to explain the discrepancy between the dynamism of 20th century jazz music and the relative stillness of symphonic (“classical”) music by arguing that jazz musicians are better educated or more talented than classically trained ones. It’s a no starter.

The other factors identified and readily dismissed by Platt, though, may actually carry significant weight. The obvious one is money: there is no question that, at least since World War II, physics has enjoyed by far the lion’s share of public funding devoted to scientific research, a trend that has seen some setback in recent years (interestingly, after the end of the Cold War). It would be foolish to underestimate the difference that money makes in science (or anything else, for that matter): more funds don’t mean simply that physicists can build and maintain ever larger instruments for their research (think of giant telescopes in astronomy, or particle accelerators in sub-nuclear physics), but perhaps equally important that they can attract better paid graduate students and postdoctoral associates, the lifeblood of academic research and scholarship. Then again, of course, money isn’t everything: our society has poured huge amounts of cash, for instance, into finding a cure for cancer (the so-called “war” on cancer), and although we have made much progress, we are not even close to having eliminated that scourge -- if it is at all possible.

Part of the differential ability of scientific disciplines to recruit young talent also deals with an imponderable that Platt did not even consider: the “coolness factor.” While being interested in science will hardly make you popular in high school or even in college, among science nerds it is well understood (if little substantiated by the facts) that doing physics, and in particular particle physics, is much more cool than doing geology, ecology or, barely mentionable, any of the social sciences -- the latter a term that some in academia still consider an oxymoron. The coolness factor probably derives from a variety of causes, not the least of which is the very fact just mentioned that there is more money in physics than in other fields of study, as well as the significant social impact of a few iconic figures, like Einstein (when was the last time you heard someone being praised for being “a Darwin”?).

What does this article have to do with Zen? Not much except the author's attempt to make a two sentence statement about pornography into a koan. Other then those two sentences there is no other reference to Zen or Buddhism. YET. Yet the title of the post is, "The Zen of Porn: If Pornography is Everywhere, Is It Nowhere?"

Upon reading that I thought that the article was going to be about some Zen Buddhist porn star or something. Instead it's an article about one woman's crusade against pornography.

I don't want to get into the debate about pornography itself (Though I will say that I consider pornography along with much of sexuality to be a personal matter). That said I found it somewhat disrespectful that she was using the Zen label to draw attention to an article about pornography. It appears to me that once again Zen has been misused for a catchy, "cool" title.

I know that it's often better to ignore this kind of thing but it seems at some point we need to say something if for no other reason than for self-respect. Yes, it's important not to get angry with every misuse of our Buddhist labels but it's also important to value our traditions--and ourselves. I don't think we need to get offended at every misuse of Buddhist labels either but at some point it comes down to showing courtesy for other beliefs and people.

Yes, it's important for ourselves to not get attached to simple words but simple words also carry sacred energy and meaning too. At some point we have to say something or we'll end up with Zen toilet seat covers and Zen toilet paper. Yes, it's important to keep the peace and not get personally invested in such disrespect but it's also important to stand for something.

Imagine saying, "The Christianity of Porn," you'd get bombarded by people finding offense and rightly so. Sometimes you have to draw a line. Yes, Buddhism is more than words but there is still a tradition to it and it would be sad if we just let all of our traditions disappear. True we don't need all of those things to practice meditation but then don't we just become someone who happens to meditate?

If Buddha is just a word then why do we take refuge in it? Don't we do Buddha's gift of the Dharma to us a bit of a disservice? Maybe I'm not a "real Buddhist" but I like some tradition and sacredness in my beliefs. I enjoy having things to respect and find meaning and value in.

Some people just don't know any better so I'm not saying we should insult them back but I am advocating that we educate whenever we have the opportunity.

Just a few days ago I wrote about how people are killing around the world because of superstitious beliefs, for instance accusations of witchcraft. Well, this time around the tragedy happened in the United States, and the victim is Kara Neumann, an 11-year old who died of diabetes because her parents withheld medical treatment. Their reason? The “online ministry” to which they belong preaches that “Jesus never sent anyone to a doctor or a hospital. Jesus offered healing by one means only! Healing was by faith.”

Jesus may have offered healing by faith only, but did it work? If the case of little Kara is any indication, it didn’t, and an innocent child was killed as a result. (Incidentally, Jesus never preached via the internet. Jesus preached by talking to people in person only! So I strongly encourage Unleavened Bread Ministries to shut down their web site immediately, or they risk going to Hell "en mass"…)

As readers of this blog know, I have my disagreements with Richard Dawkins, one being that I do not think that religious upbringing automatically constitutes child abuse, as Dawkins maintains. But in this case that term surely applies. Kara’s parents, Leilani and Dale Neumann, claimed that the Marathon County, Wisconsin, State Attorney violated their constitutional right to religious freedom in charging them with a crime. But Judge Vincent Howard of Marathon County Circuit Court ordered them to stand trial anyway, responding that “The free exercise clause of the First Amendment protects religious belief, but not necessarily conduct.”

Indeed, it is the demarcation line between belief (or thought) and conduct (or action) that defines issues of morality, a point often completely lost on religious zealots. I have a close friend who was raised in the Church of Christ and who went through a terrible period in his late teens and early twenties. The reason was that he was absolutely convinced that he was going to Hell. Why? Because he had lusting thoughts about attractive women (imagine that!), and although he never acted on such thoughts, his preacher told him that thinking them was just as bad. I always wondered why he didn’t pursue the women in question anyway, then. I mean, if you are going to Hell regardless of your actions, you might as well enjoy the ride before you get there.

Back to the case of Kara Neumann, it may turn out to be important if it ends up setting a legal precedent. Apparently the law in the United States is very vague (and, as usual, an incredible patchwork at the state level), so that, for instance, 30 States (including Wisconsin) provide limited protection from prosecution in cases of child neglect involving religious beliefs, but it isn’t clear how limited such protection actually is, because the statutes are rarely challenged in court. The result of this protection, meanwhile, has been the death of a 15-month old girl in Oregon last year (pneumonia), and, in the same state, the death of a 16-year old boy of a very painful -- and eminently treatable -- urinary tract infection. Praised be the Lord!

The bottom line is that adults have the right to hold whatever insane and stupid beliefs they like, and even to conduct their life accordingly -- unless such beliefs directly lead to the death or injury of others, children or adult alike (think 9/11). As one of the Neumann’s neighbors put it, “That little girl wasn’t old enough to make the decision about going to a doctor, and now, because some religious extremists went too far, she’s gone.” Precisely.

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I think that these two animals are well on their way to being reborn in the human realm where they can have the best chance at liberation from samsara. There are many humans who don't have the level of compassion, love and commitment as these two realize.

I find it especially endearing that this happened in an animal shelter between two animals who were otherwise rejected by the human realm. It could be that the elephant came from a circus who no longer saw her as "profitable." It is sad when humans see animals as nothing more than to be here for our benefit.

This is evident in all the pets that are abandoned each year in animal shelters because people bought the animals thinking that they'd be the perfect accessory. Instead they realized that they were no different than little children and required a lot of attention, care and responsibility so they abandoned them, which to me says more about the humans than the animals.

Once I learned in Buddhism that we are inter-related with not just humans but animals I saw these creatures completely differently. It then became impossible to me to continue eating meat when I learned that a chicken meant for slaughter could have been my mother in a past life.

Animals have so much to offer and I've found that they really do have little personalities, which fits the Buddhist teaching that we all have our own karma. In having different karma that means that we each have our own personalities, tendencies, quirks, weaknesses, etc. and animals are no different. There are dogs for example who are very smart like my sister's dog whom I swear can understand English and other dogs who aren't so smart. Thus, perhaps the smarter dog is further along the path toward a human birth due to a different karma.

Then there are dogs and other animals who are aware/mindful enough to get help for their human friends who have an accident or get sick. That requires a certain degree of compassion, which is a thought/action that leads to a change in karma, which (in my view) increases in these animals a greater potential for a human rebirth. May all beings achieve liberation from samsara.

I just got back from a trip to Las Vegas, where the highlight was attending a Penn & Teller show. They are the magicians who have an entire tv series devoted to debunking the paranormal, appropriately called Bullshit! As a skeptic, one of the most annoying questions I get (and I’m sure P&T do also) is “why spoil other people’s beliefs? What’s the harm? Why are you so cynical?” (Note: skepticism is most emphatically not the same thing as cynicism, either in English meaning or in terms of the original Greek philosophical traditions.)

Well, ask the young woman that a couple of weeks ago was seized by some of her neighbors in Papua New Guinea, stripped naked, bound, gagged, and set on fire on suspicion of being a witch. She died a horrible and senseless death. This is not an isolated case in that part of the world (or in Africa). According to the local police more than 50 people were killed in the past year in two Papua New Guinea provinces because they were suspected of practicing sorcery. Anthropologist Bruce Knauft of Emory University has conducted a study according to which over the past four decades local families have seen a full one third of their adults killed violently, 90% of the deaths being connected to superstitious beliefs about witchcraft and the like.

Papua New Guinea is one of four Asian countries afflicted by an AIDS epidemics, but many villagers think it is witches, not the HIV virus, that spreads the disease (again, the same position held by many people, and even some governments, in Africa). Superstition is an easy “explanation” when the reality is either too difficult to comprehend or too hard to accept, but people are literally dying as a result of it.

But that’s the third world, right? Yes, but does witchcraft really sound that different from the practice of, say, snake handlers and speakers in tongues, right here in the good old U.S of A.? Do you remember Sarah Palin saved by a witch doctor? Moreover, plenty of people in the Western world die or get ill because they take homeopathic “remedies” (i.e., water and sugar) for treating serious conditions, for instance. And there is, of course, the psychological (and more often than not, financial) pain experienced by people whose grief and hopes are exploited by those who sell them instant Jesus cures, or tantalize them with the possibility of once again communicating with their loved ones.

That is why the work of the skeptic is not simply a matter of enjoying the intellectual challenge of exposing the frauds, or even the educational challenge of raising the world’s critical thinking abilities by a notch or two. It is work that helps reduce the exploitation of people’s fears for financial gain, power, or prestige. And it is work that may eventually save lives like the one of the innocent young woman who died in Papua New Guinea, yet another innocent victim of ignorance and stupidity.