10. The third noble truth

The third noble truth, the ceasing of suffering, is the converse of the second, the arising of suffering. But it is not merely the opposite, or the same thing said in an opposite way. The structural principle which characterizes it -- "When this is not that is not; with ceasing of this that ceases" -- when taken together with the characterizing principle of arising, together form a general description of the structure of impermanence. It is insight into this very structure that marks the difference between the ordinary person and one who sees not only things (e.g. impermanence) but also the nature of things. Such an insight is frequently described (at e.g. S. LVI,11: v,423) as seeing that "whatever is of a nature to arise, all that is of a nature to cease."

Of course, it is not only by the conjunction of these two noble truths that the nature of impermanence is described. Each of them separately says the same thing, both as principle and as exemplification. It is apparent, for example, that "By means of birth there comes into being ageing-and-death" is but a different way of saying the same thing: "Whatever is of a nature to arise, all that is of a nature to cease." And this truth is implicit in every statement with the form "By means of A there is B" where B is the necessary consequence of A.

The usual exemplification of the third noble truth has such a structure. It involves the same twelve factors, ignorance to ageing-and-death, in a formula with the pattern "With ceasing of A ceasing of B; with ceasing of B ceasing of C...." Clearly this is a description of impermanence, of how things (and in particular dukkha) cease. Therefore all that was said concerning impermanence and recursiveness in section 9 will apply mutatis mutantis to the third noble truth. There remains the need to indicate how it is that perception of impermanence is concealed, and how it can be revealed.

It can be seen from what has already been described that dependent arising is most commonly exemplified as a twelve-factored formula not because it takes eleven steps to get "from" ignorance "to" dukkha (for it is only conceptually that ignorance and dukkha can be distanced), but because to say more would only be endlessly repetitive of what has already been said. On the other hand, to say less is certainly possible: many exemplifications are to be found which in various ways omit some or even most of the terms.

Thus, some people can work out the personal significance of dependent arising by considering their experience in light of one or another aspect of the exemplification. Others will use the exemplification as a whole, while still others will do their work based on the guidance of the principle itself. Dependent arising formulae (and the principle as well) are best regarded not as quasi-scientific explanations but as pedagogical paradigms, designed to provide guidance in the work of comprehending the perilous nature of one's situation. They can, of course, be misapplied. But it does not follow from this that there is only one "correct" way to use them. This essay does not attempt to explore the diversity of possible applications.

That there is such a diversity of exemplifications will of course occasion no surprise. As with any recursive structure, to see any part of the structure is to see the whole of it. This is in contrast to non-recursive structures. One could not construct a bicycle with no greater understanding of it than, say, the relationship of the pedals to the sprocket. Taken together with Sutta statements (at e.g. S. LVI,30: v,436-37) that he who sees any one of the four noble truths sees all of them, this is in itself sufficient proof (if one is still needed) that recursiveness is of the essence in the Buddha's Teaching. Dependent arising, then, keeps saying the same thing over and over: in the structure of any experience the more specific arises and ceases bound up with the more general context within which it exists. Existence apart from a context, as well as a context apart from specification, is utterly impossible.[33]

And whatever is bound up with conditions is contingent. It is at all times liable to become other than the way we would have it be, and is at no time fit to be regarded as "me" or "mine." It is inseparable from dukkha. And this is true of all experience, all the way up to "name-and-matter together with consciousness," which is to say experience-in-general. ("Experience-in-general" is to be understood here as "the most general level of experience," rather than as "experience taken as a whole.")

But what, then, of experience-in-general? This, at least, might seem to constitute if not an ultimate then at least a limit. For within the realm of experience, which is the only realm of which we can know or say anything at all, what could be more general than this?

We can readily understand that name-and-matter arises dependent upon consciousness, for name-and-matter can be known or described only insofar as it is in fact cognized, or present. If it is not cognized its very existence is beyond any reckoning,[34] and therefore name-and-matter is negative as regards existence. It can derive only a borrowed existence (whereby it becomes reckonable) from consciousness, and as regards existence its being is that of a debtor.

What, then, of consciousness? Is it independent? When we considered Bandha's troubles we found that a movement towards the specific did not lead to escape from either dukkha or the conditions that give rise to dukkha. What, then, of a movement towards generality?

The answer is to be found in the well-known variant dependent arising exemplification found at D. 15: ii,56-7, which begins: "By means of name-and-matter, consciousness; by means of consciousness, name-and-matter; by means of name-and-matter, contact; ...feeling ..." etc.[35] It is clear that here there is no "first term." Nothing independent is to be found. Just as name-and-matter depends upon consciousness (without which matter could not be involved in experience as name-and-matter) so too, "this consciousness turns back from name-and-matter; it does not go beyond" (D. 14: ii,32). This inter-relatedness is compared at S. XII,67: ii,114, to two sheaves of wheat leaning each against the other: if either falls they both fall. They stand together and they fall together.

In other words, a consciousness which does not cognize something, a "pure" consciousness ("pure," here, in the sense of "without content" rather than "without defilements") is as impossible as a fire without fuel. Consciousness may be understood as the presence of things -- for if a thing is cognized it must in some sense be present, and we cannot know of a thing that "it is [present]" unless it is cognized. There cannot be "presence" without there being something that is present. So too, consciousness can only exist dependent upon there being "the cognized," and it can be known or described only in terms of that content.

Just as a fire becomes reckonable only dependent on the means whereby it arises -- when fire burns by means of logs it becomes reckonable only as log fire; when fire burns by means of faggots... by means of grass... by means of cowdung... by means of chaff... by means of rubbish it becomes reckonable only as rubbish fire -- so too, consciousness becomes reckonable only dependent on the means whereby it arises. When consciousness arises by means of eye and forms it becomes reckonable only as eye-consciousness; when consciousness arises by means of ear and sounds... by means of nose and smells... by means of tongue and tastes... by means of body and tangibles... by means of mind and ideas/images it becomes reckonable only as mind-consciousness. -- M. 38: i,259.

D. 15: ii,63-4 leaves no doubt as to the significance of the inter-relatedness of name-and-matter and consciousness:

Thus far, Ánanda, may one be born or age or die or fall or arise. Thus far is there a way of designation, thus far is there a way of language, thus far is there a way of description, thus far is there a sphere of understanding. Thus far the round proceeds as manifestation in a situation -- so far, that is to say, as there is name-and-matter together with consciousness.

Whether in terms of aggregates or of name-and-matter, there can be no doubt that this mutual dependence of essence and existence is essentially (and existentially) the same as the mutual dependence of specificity and context, which we have already discussed. Just as "existence" is the most general possible context, so too "essence" is the most general possible specification. Therefore we can see that the fundamental exemplification of dependent arising can be stated concisely in the form found at D. 15: "By means of name-and-matter, consciousness; by means of consciousness, name-and-matter." Whatever follows afterwards does so by way of expansion, not by way of innovation.

However, most dependent arising formulas do not in fact begin by explicitly stating the interdependence of consciousness and name-and-matter, nor do they end there. More often we find, "By means of ignorance, conditions; by means of conditions, consciousness; ...name-and-matter; ...six bases; ..." etc. And if indeed "name-and-matter together with consciousness" is the most general possible of existential specifications, then what can be meant by "conditions?" For if they are yet-more-general than "the most general possible" they must be impossible. But if they are not yet-more-general what could they be? And is not "By means of conditions..." a mere tautology, akin to saying "With conditions as condition..." or "By means of means...?" If it is more (or less) than a tautology, then what is it? And, above all, what specifically are these "conditions," nested so prominently between "ignorance" and "consciousness?" And what have they to do with impermanence?

When we look through the Suttas we find a considerable variety of things identified as "conditions" (sankhárá): in-and-out breaths, thinking, pondering, perception, feeling, merit, demerit, imperturbability, intention, contact, regarding, doubt, wavering, kingly possessions and apnt of the Buddha's Teaching: non-independence.

Not only are there "conditions;" there are also, unavoidably, "conditioned things" (sankhatá dhammá, sometimes shortened to "things," dhammá). In the same way, there is not only "dependent arising" (paticcasamuppáda) but also "dependently arisen" (paticcasamuppanna). These pairs are simply two sides of a coin: if any thing is a condition then there is something else which is conditioned by it. If any thing is conditioned there must necessarily be also a condition (or conditions). If there is dependent arising, there are things dependently arisen. If things are dependently arisen, there is dependent arising.[37]

Now, within the context of dependent arising the term "conditions" is invariably described as consisting of three general categories. "There are three conditions: body condition, speech condition, mind condition" -- M. 9: i,54, etc. And it happens that the Suttas never specify "conditions," either further or otherwise, within the dependent arising context. This has permitted the growth of a diversity of opinions regarding the significance of "conditions" within the dependent arising context. And it is against this diversity that we ask, "What are these 'conditions,' nested so prominently between 'ignorance' and 'consciousness?'"

How is "conditions" described in other Sutta contexts? We need not look far to find a discourse (e.g. M. 44: i,301) in which "conditions" is defined in the same terms as in the dependent arising context. "There are, friend Visákha, these three conditions: body condition, speech condition, mind condition." Examples are offered: "The in-and-out-breaths, friend Visákha, are body condition. Thinking and pondering are speech condition. Perception and feeling are mind condition." An explanation is provided. "The in-and-out-breaths, friend Visákha, are bodily. These things are bound up with the body. That is why the in-and-out-breaths are body condition. First, friend Visákha, having thought and pondered, afterwards one breaks into speech. That is why thinking and pondering are speech condition. Perception and feeling are mental. These things are bound up with the mind. That is why perception and feeling are mind condition."

But it is sometimes argued that although these diverse items are (for reasons we need not detail here) the examples of preference within their native context, namely, certain meditative attainments, yet this context is rather remote from considerations of the structure of the second noble truth, "the arising of dukkha." Might we not find a more relevant example in the context of the first noble truth?

In this context, that of the aggregates, "conditions" is often defined as "six bodies of intention -- intention with regard to sights, sounds, smells, tastes, touches, images/ideas -- these, monks, are called conditions." (S. XXII,56: iii,60, etc.) Here, then, the example of choice is choice. And at S. XXII,79: iii,87 (quoted in footnote 37) we are told that it is due to conditions (which, of course, would include intention) that the aggregates are conditioned as matter, feeling, perception, conditions, and consciousness, respectively.[38]

It is said that consciousness is conditioned as consciousness by conditions. This sounds much the same as "By means of conditions, consciousness." Perhaps, then, "conditions" within the context of the second noble truth is not far removed from that of the first? Would it be legitimate to regard conditions within the context of dependent arising as involving (partly, at least) intention?

We can agree that intentionality is certainly fundamental to experience.[39] After all, it is revealed as such by reflexion. And being fundamental, our texts do not ignore it. Not only is it found in the explication of "conditions" (as the fourth of the five aggregates); it is, as well, one factor of name-and-matter. (See S. XII,2, in chapter 9.) If we are to regard it also as a factor in the "conditions" upon which consciousness depends, would this not be yet another instance of a term appearing first in a specific context and then in a more general one? The problem with supposing so is that this requires us to conclude that "intentions" are not only fundamental to experience (with which we can entirely agree) but that, surpassing even consciousness, they wholly transcend experience (which is but idle speculation).

It appears, then, that we cannot import an understanding of "conditions" into the dependent arising context without encountering difficulties or objections. From various quarters numerous questions have been raised.

Was the term "conditions" ever specified, in a dependent arising context, in some discourse now lost to us? Was it left unspecified either through neglect or a simple inability to address every possible question that future ages could raise? Was the meaning of the term not then regarded (as it is in some circles today) as dependent upon its context? Was it deliberately left as an open category? Or are there still other possibilities yet to be imagined?

The "lost discourse" theory is the least likely alternative. There is no reason to suppose that any discourses, once gathered into the protective framework of the Nikáyas, were ever lost. For scholastic evidence in support of this judgment see my Beginnings: The Pali Suttas. What, then, about neglect? It is always risky to ascribe to other eras the values and assessments of our own milieu; but from our present perspective it is difficult to imagine that the subject was not deemed as being as important in the Buddha's time as it is today.

But other points are not so easily decided. Independence of context? True, words have meaning even when they stand alone, independent of grammatical context; and this is particularly true of technical terms. But at the same time words are not independent of their context, which can alter significance in ways which are at times subtle beyond all description.[40] When "conditions" appears in the dependent arising context then to what extent does it take on fresh tones, or overtones? And how can we tell?

And if that seems to be a fine-edged distinction, then what are we to make of the question of deliberate non-specification? There is a strong argument in its favor. Dependent arising involves the whole of experience. To specify conditions in any way might be taken, wrongly, as suggesting that there are aspects of experience in which conditions play a greater role than elsewhere. Yet, against this view there is the equally strong contention that nowhere is it said that "conditions" is deliberately left as an open category. In other words, not only is "conditions" not specified; its non-specification is also not specified. This strategy has its aesthetic appeal; but the Suttas usually spell out in detail every point which could possibly be misunderstood. That this is not done in the present case argues against deliberate non-specification.

We could, if we wished, argue the above points more closely than we have. But no matter how refined our argument it would remain but an argument. No matter how subtle our scholasticism we would be no closer to understanding.

We see that we cannot go to other contexts in order to determine the meaning of "conditions" within the dependent arising context. This is a valid strategy for determining the meaning of some Sutta terms. But with a word as critical and as contested as sankhárá we find fine distinctions being drawn in support of various positions. (And, in any case, the Suttas ought not to be regarded as a sort of gigantic puzzle, its parts all interlocking. Each discourse originated within its own particular context, even though that context has not always come down to us. While all discourses point, distantly or closely, to the same goal they do not all do so in the same manner. It is not an error to find relationships between Suttas, but some caution must be taken before drawing conclusions from such comparisons.)

We see, too, that we can neither invoke historical hypotheses (lost texts) nor base conclusions on speculations about the unstated motives of the Buddha or of his disciples. Not thereby will we discover meaning and purpose in the texts.

What we must do, it seems, is to examine the dependent arising texts themselves, and refrain from going beyond them, either to other texts or to conclusions they do not themselves support. And we must also remember that those texts come to us within the context of our own experience. We do not rely upon our experience to understand those texts, of course, for the message of the texts is that we mis-conceive that experience. Rather, we remember that the texts are a guide to recognizing that which, within our experience, we have not hitherto recognized. Our understanding of the texts must be an understanding relevant to experience. For we are not trying to decide which side of a chalk line we should stand on. We are seeking to resolve a personal dilemma. And we cannot do so unless our considerations are personal.

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Footnotes:

33. This is not to suggest that this is all that dependent arising says: "Ánanda, this dependent arising is deep and is seen to be deep. It is by not wakening to and penetrating this Teaching that mankind is entangled..." -- D. 15: ii,55 = S. XII,60: ii,92. And at S. LVI,19: v,430, it is said of each of the four noble truths that they have numberless shades and variations of meaning. [Back to text]

34. This does not contradict our earlier statement that "matter exists whether or not it is cognized." Although there is no valid reason to doubt that even when it is not cognized matter continues to exist, and there is considerable indirect evidence to support this notion, still, when it is not cognized then at that time matter is outside the bounds of experience. But when it is cognized matter can never be present "bare," i.e. as uninvolved with feeling, perception, intention, contact, and attention. What is cognized is name-and-matter, and it is name-and-matter, not matter, that exists dependent upon consciousness. [Back to text]

35. This exemplification omits "six (sense-)bases." Since these bases are implicated in every experience (that involves perception), and since perception is part of "name," the omission does not in fact "leave out" the bases. (How, after all, does one omit perception from experience?) It merely changes their involvement from being explicitly stated to being implicitly understood. The bases are also immediately implicated in any experience (involving contact), and contact is both part of "name" and "the factor which precedes feeling." So from this view the bases are implicated on each level of experience, as indeed they must be. [Back to text]

36. Consciousness, like experience, is hierarchical but it is not itself recursive. We cognize various levels of experience: consciousness of feeling_c is more immediate than consciousness of feeling_b. But we cannot say "consciousness of consciousness (of x)." There cannot be presence of presence; there can only be presence of "the present thing." Unless something is actually present there cannot be presence. "By means of name-and-matter, consciousness." Our discussion of consciousness will be limited to the most general level of experience (of which consciousness of feeling_a is one aspect), namely, consciousness together with name-and-matter. [Back to text]

37. See S. XXII,79: iii,87, where all five aggregates, including conditions themselves, are described as conditioned things. "And, monks, what do you say are conditions? 'They condition the conditioned;' that, monks, is why they are called 'conditions.' And what is the conditioned that they condition? Matter as matter is the conditioned that they condition. Feeling as feeling is the conditioned that they condition. Perception as perception is the conditioned that they condition. Conditions as conditions is the conditioned that they condition. Consciousness as consciousness is the conditioned that they condition. 'They condition the conditioned,' monks. That is indeed why they are called 'conditions.'" See also S. XXII,81: iii,94-99. [Back to text]

38. This does not imply idealism: the aggregates are conditioned, not created. But neither does it imply positivism: there is not merely the discovery of an already-existing world, complete with its relationships and implications. There is a middle way whereby this can be understood. Matter is perceived by the bodily senses as sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and touches, and by the mind as the imaginary counterparts of these. These percepts are then characterized by involvement with intention, feeling, and attention; and it is this characterized matter which I use to construct my world.
   Thus, if I hear a crackling sound (perception of matter by ear) I may characterize (or "name") it as "fire." I will then conceive a set of worlds in which "fire" plays a role, either agreeable ("dinner will be ready soon"), neutral ("just some old rubbish"), or disagreeable ("hey, that's my house!"). However, I have learned that if my concepts do not accord with reality then I am liable to find their burden difficult to bear. Therefore I will consider whether these (or any of my conceived worlds) are isomorphic with what is further revealed of matter's behaviour. Investigating, I see a length of shiny color waving briskly (perception of matter by eye), which I identify as "some plastic snapping in the wind." I decide (or intend) that what I see is what I hear, and re-interpret the crackling as "sound of plastic." With this re-conditioned matter I construct a new world, perhaps a pleasurable one wherein "I can deservedly relax, having dealt efficiently and successfully with an emergency." Then I smell smoke. And so on. [Back to text]

39. It is worth pointing out that intention does not precede action. If I think about getting up then at that time there exist both "the intention to think about getting up" and "thinking about getting up." If later I do in fact get up then at that time there exist both "the intention to get up" and "(the act of) getting up." It is perfectly possible for me to get up without prior consideration (i.e. planning), but it is quite impossible for me to get up without at the same time intending to do so. "Monks, I say intention is action. Intending, one does action by body, by speech, by mind." -- A. VI,63: iii,415. Everydayness confuses intention with planning (which is the intention "to think about intending"), and therefore everyday language does also, even in some non-technical Sutta passages. In reflexion the distinction is clear: each act is accompanied immediately and at once by its intention. But for as long as reflection (= thinking about) is confused with reflexion (= self-observation) planning will be confused with intention. For so long the meaning of "responsibility" will be misunderstood. [Back to text]

40. "'When I use a word,' Humpty Dumpty said in rather a scornful tone, 'it means just what I choose it to mean -- neither more nor less.' 'The question is,' said Alice, 'whether you can make words mean so many different things.' 'The question is,' said Humpty Dumpty, 'which is to be master -- that is all.'" Clearly neither Alice nor Humpty Dumpty had grasped the notion of interdependence of content and context. [Back to text]