Changing Discourses of Perception & Knowledge in Buddhist Philsophy

- Avinash Jha

Why perception?

I am going to present some preliminary results of my attempt to understand the

continuities and discontinuities in Buddhist philosophy of perception in the course of its
development over a millennium or so. This study of Buddhist philosophy is in the context
of my study of perception and its role in shaping the horizon of all knowledge.

An inquiry into perception is likely to be classed as a specialized inquiry which no doubt

would be interesting in itself for those who care to be quizzed by mysteries of seeing,
hearing, touching etc. But why worry about perception, when what one is really
interested in is the questions of knowing, being, suffering, for example. A table is table,
paper is paper, and the marks on the paper that we write are marks. The really interesting
stuff begins, it might seem, when we begin to ponder over the ‘meanings’ that are being
created, reproduced, and so on.

If we look at Plato's dialogue 'Theaetetus' where the argument is going on whether

perception is knowledge, we find a formulation that continues to shape the understanding
of knowledge till date. In the middle of the dialogue a point is reached where it has been
shown that perception is not knowledge.

“SOCRATES: Then perception, Theaetetus, can never be the same as knowledge or

science?
THEAETETUS: Clearly not, Socrates; and knowledge has now been most distinctly
proved to be different from perception.
SOCRATES: But the original aim of our discussion was to find out rather what
knowledge is than what it is not; at the same time we have made some progress, for we
no longer seek for knowledge in perception at all, but in that other process, however
called, in which the mind is alone and engaged with being.”
Even the contemporary cognitive science continues to attempt laying bare the processes
where “mind is alone and engaged with being”. Perception has the function of making
available the bare beings, to draw beings into the horizon of reflection so that the process
of knowledge can begin. Such ‘framing’ of perception has resulted in two mutually
opposed understanding of perception.

One approach leads to a thorough ‘naturalisation’ of perception. Perception is just a

natural phenomenon among other natural phenomena. The opposite approach which
Merleau-Ponty has called ‘intellectualism’, seeks to reduce perception to a primarily
mental phenomenon. In both these approaches, perception turns out to be something that
is ‘given’, whether it is determined by ‘nature’ or ‘culture’. We are seeking an approach
which does not try to explain perception either by recourse to nature or culture. We take
perception as the process through which we bring the realm of nature and culture
together. It makes knowledge possible, but also sets limits to it.
The Process of Perception in Buddha’s Discourses

The following formula from Madhupindika Sutra, may be regarded as the ‘locus-
classicus’ for insight into the process of perception:

Visual conciousness (cakkhuviññaṇam), brethren, arises because of eye and material

shapes; the meeting of the three is sensory impingement (phasso); because of sensory
impingement arises feeling (vedana); what one feels, one perceives; what one perceives,
one reasons about; what one reasons about, one turns into papanch; what one turns into
papanch, due to that ‘papancha-sanna-sankha’ assail him in regard to material shapes
cognizable by the eye, belonging to the past, the future and the present.

And bretheren, auditory conciousness arises because of ear and sounds…

Mental consciousness arises because of mind and mental objects…

[The story of the magician and the lion].

We notice that till we reach ‘feeling’ the language is impersonal and objective: visual
conciousness ‘arises’, and so on. From then on, the language is personal: what one feels,
one perceives. Towards the end, the language becomes impersonal again: ‘’papancha-
sanna-sankha’ assail him in regard to material shapes…’ The process of perception
contains within itself the roots of the processes by which the “I” or the subject is
constructed. As we know, Buddhism is also known as ‘anatmavad’, i.e., the doctrine of
no-self. ‘Papanch’ plays an important role in understanding how this happens. Papanch
and papanch-sanna-sankha articulate the nature of concepts in their dynamic and static
aspects respectively. Papanch points to proliferation or spread of concepts drawing from
‘panch’ which signifies 5 (or 10) owing to its association with the stretched palm(s) with
its five fingers spread out. Papanch is used widely in the language with meanings of
‘spreading out’, expansion, diffuseness and manifoldness. It is used metaphorically also
in the sense of ‘illusion’ and metaphysically in the sense of the manifest world. In the
context of this Buddhist Sutra, it characterizes the tendency toward proliferation in the
realm of concepts. ‘Papanch-sanna-sankha’ in contrast points to the congealing character
of the concepts, its hardening, its stability. It is understood to mean concepts, reckonings,
designations or linguistic conventions.

The role of papanch and papanch-sanna-sankha has been interpreted by Bhikku

Nnanananda as:
The vicious proliferating tendency of the worldling’s consciousness weaves for him a
labyrinthine network of concepts connecting the three periods of time through the
processes of recognition, retrospection and speculation.

The formula that we started with is actually stated by Mahakaccana in order to elucidate a
brief discourse of the Buddha in the same Madhupindika Sutta:

If, O monk, one neither delights in, nor asserts, nor clings to, that which makes one
subject to papanch-sanna-sankha, then that itself is the end of the proclivities to
attachment, views, pride, ignorance and attachment to becoming. That itself is the end of
taking the stick, of taking the weapon, of quarreling, contending, disputing, accusation,
slander and lying speech. Here it is that all these evil unskilled states cease without
residue.

What we are being asked to not delight in, nor assert, nor cling to is the process of
perception which in its natural conditioning leads to the proliferation of concepts which
condition the perpetuation of the fruitless search for fulfilling of self. ‘Delighting in’
( ‘tanha’ or craving), ‘asserting’ (‘mana’ or conceit), and clinging to (ditthi or views)
mark the intrusion of self or “I” in the process of perception. Viewed from one angle, the
notion of “I” with the accompanying notions of ‘my’ and ‘mine’, leads towards craving
(tanha). Viewed from another angle, it is bound up with the notion of “not-I”, or ‘thou’
and ‘thine’, it is a form of measuring or value judgment leading to conceit (mana).
Viewed from a third angle, “I” occasions the dogmatic adherence to the concept of a self
as a theoretical formulation, to a ‘view’. This exemplifies the triple-nature of the
conditionally arisen self – ‘this is mine’, ‘this am I’, and ‘this is my self’. The self, ego,
or “I” arises as a result of various factors, avidya or ignorance among them. Because of
Avidya, this complex interdependently arisen process resolves itself into subject and
object, “I” and the world. As Nnanananda notes:

The label ‘I’ thus superimposed on the complex contingent process, serves as a
convenient fiction of thought or a short-hand device, and is in fact one of the shortest
words in many a language.

But avidya is no first cause. There is no first cause, because these processes are
beginning-less. The principle of ‘patitya sammutpad’ or ‘conditioned (or interdependent)
co-arising’ is considered to be a foundational teaching of Buddhism. It elucidates the
‘bhava chakra’, the cycle of becoming, which is samsara. The ‘cycle’ here does not imply
a return in time to where we started, but points to the recursive feature of causation. The
‘formula’ that we started with:

Visual conciousness (cakkhuviññaṇam), brethren, arises because of eye and material

shapes; the meeting of the three is sensory impingement (phasso)…
This is not meant to convey that the process has terminals in time, that the process starts
with eye and material shapes and terminates with ‘papanch-sanna-sankha’. Papanch-
sanna-sankha may condition the arising of another episode of perception. Patitya
sammutpad is implied in all such ‘formulae’, but the following discourse of Buddha is
often used for explicating the principle of patitya sammutpad.

Because of eye and material objects, brethren, arises visual consciousness; the meeting
of the three is sensory impingement, because of sensory impingement arises feeling;
because of feeling, craving; because of craving, grasping; because of grasping,
becoming; because of becoming, birth; and because of birth, decay and death, grief,
lamentation, suffering and despair arise. This is the arising of the world.

[From Nidana Samyutta of the Samyutta Nikaya]

“Ayam lokassa samudaya”. Thus arises the world. But there is no permanence. The world
arises and gets dissolved. With a doctrine of ksana-bhang-vad or ‘momentariness’,
Abhidhamma took up this thread.

Abhidhamma or Thoughts without a thinker

The above discussion is based on the ‘Sutta Pitaka’, the body of literature which consists
of the sayings and discourses of the Buddha as they were recorded. This process of
recording and the development of a fairly ‘standard’ body of ‘words of Buddha’ was
done 2-3 hundred years after his time. Monks were memorizing and passing on these
discourses, and over a period of time several ‘collections’ were produced. In several large
assemblies of monks, sometimes mutually opposed, a large body of such collections
became accepted by all as genuine discourses of Buddha and they were written down.
These discourses were given on different occasions, with diverse people, and in response
to various queries, questions, and dilemmas. But there is not a systematic exposition of
the ‘dhamma’ (i.e. the ‘teaching’ of Buddhism). Attempts at systematic rendering of the
‘teaching’ might have begun during Buddha’s time, but certainly by the time Buddha’s
discourses were written down, there is already of body of specialized literature.
It went by the name of ‘Abhidhamma’, translated variously as ‘higher doctrine’, ‘special
doctrine’, etc. Abhidhamma literature grew a great deal in the following period. It came
to be known as the ‘third basket’ of Buddhist literature – the Abhidhamma pitaka. It
exists both in Pali and Sanskrit. Around this time, Buddhist doctrine was divided into
several schools (18, by traditional accounts).

In Abhidhamma, the human being is conceived as ‘stream of consciousness’ – citta

santati. ‘Santati’ signifies a series of moments, a discrete ‘line’ or ‘pankti’. The human
existence is analysed as a series of cittas.

The formal character of this series, or discrete line, is similar to speech, which is a
discrete line of sounds. The conception of speech as a discrete series of sounds is
articulated in association with the methodology of exact oral recounting of Vedas in
particular, but also more generally in the oral culture of that time. This is the time when
the whole transmission was dependent on orality. The times when Upanishads were
composed, Buddhism, Jainism and several other philosophical schools and sampradayas
were thriving, this happened in without a culture of writing.

Abhidhamma introduces a doctrine of momentariness in the discrete line. Citta santati is

characterized by a break, ksana bhang, which makes it discreet. Cettas are momentary,
following one after another. The theory of ksana bhang conceives a complete break
between two moments. A moment arises, stays and is dissolved. Then another moment of
citta arises, stays and dissolves. These moments admit further granularity, provided
bhang is found at any level of granules. What this means is that a moment can be further
resolved into a series of moments. This process of analysis and discernment can go on till
we reach the discrete events called ‘dhammas’. There are four fundamental or parmarthic
dhammas; these can be called ‘irreducible units of experience’. Citta, a moment of
consciousness, is the first of these parmarthic dhammas. In Theravad Abhidhamma, there
is a bhawang-citta, a base consciousness, which is also momentary. It is sometimes
envisaged as vibration. We can think of it as the clock of life ticking in each life form.
But it has been ticking since beginning-less time, through rebirths. It has no origin in
time. Each of these series of cittas is on a journey to nirvana.

Besides cittas, there are three parmarthic dhammas – chetasik, rupa and nibbana. A
cotemporary Thai manual of Abhidhamma glosses these dhammas thus:

Citta, or consciousness, is the dhamma that is the leader in knowing what appears, such
as seeing or hearing. (89 or 121 types)

Cetasika, or mental factor, is another type of dhamma which arises together with citta,
experiences the same object as citta, falls away together with citta, and arises at the
same base as citta. Cetasiks have each their own characterstics and perform each their
own functions. (52 types)

Rupa, or physical phenomena, is the dhamma that does not know or experience anything,
such as colour, sound, odour or flavor. (28 types)

Nibbana is the dhamma that is the end of defilements and the ceasing of dukkha. Nibbana
does not have conditions which could cause its arising, it does not arise and fall away.

(A Survey of Paramattha Dhammas by Acharn Sujin Boriharnwanaket, available on the

Internet.)

Further,

Phenomena such as anger, love, happiness or unhappiness are dhammas [cetasik

dhammas] which are real, they are not self, not a being, not a person. They are dhammas
that must arise together with cittas.

Any moment of experience can be ultimately resolved through analysis or discernment in

terms of parmatthic dhammas. On the one hand, dhammas are discrete events that carry
their own mark (sva lakshanas) and arise in conjunction with cognitive awareness. They
are irreducible units of experience which can not be simplified and analysed any further.
On the other hand, dhammas are also objects of thought and reflection in as much as they
too impinge upon the ‘stream of consciousness’. Therefore, the Abhidhamma enterprise
is characterized by reflexivity concerning its own enterprise, prompting some
commentators to call it a metapsychology. Insight into experience transforms the
experience, and transforming experience means transforming everything. When we ‘see’
experience in terms of parmarthic dhammas, we are closest to what can be called seeing
things as they are (yathabhutam).

Abhidhamma literature consists mainly of listings of different types of these dhammas

and analyzing phenomena in terms of their embedding in the ‘stream of consciousness’.
Centerpiece of such analysis is the analysis of the 17 moments process of clear perception
or ‘tadalamban’. The claim is that any process of clear perception can be analysed into a
maximum of 17 moments.

These 17 moments are characterized as follows:

1. Atita Bhavanga (past)

2. Bhavanga chalan (disturbed)
3. Bhavangupaccheda (arrested)
4. Panch dwar vajjana(five sense-doors consciousness)
5. Panch Vinnana (sense object apprehension)
6. Sampatichanna (object focus citta)
7. Santirana (investigating)

[These seven moments together are the passive part of the perception process.]

8. Votthapana (determinative, judgment)

9 to 15. Javana (impulsive)

16 to 17. Alambana (Impressive or Object-holding)

In the Buddhist tradition, this analysis is explained through an example:

“A man is found sleeping soundly at the foot of a mango tree with his head covered with
sheet. A wind blows and moves the branches of the tree causing a ripe mango to fall by
his side. He is aroused from his sleep by this sound. He sees the fallen mango. He picks it
up and examines it. Finding it to be desirable fruit he eats it, and after swallowing the
last morsels, he replaces his head covering and resumes his sleep.”

The sleep of the man represents the unconscious bhavanga stream flowing undisturbed.
The striking of the wind against the tree represents atita bhavanga or past unconscious.
The sleeper is not disturbed and the sleep continues. So does the bhavanga. The moving
of the branches represents the vibration of the bhavanga. The sleep is disturbed. So is
bhavanga. The falling of the mango represents the arrest of the bhavanga. The awakening
of the man represents pancadvaravajjana or arousing of attention through the five-door
channels of sense. The removal of the head covering and use of his eyes to observe the
mango is chakku vinnana, or visual consciousness, which is one of the five types of
consciousness together known as panch vinnana. The picking up of the fruit represents
sampabicchanna or reception, and the examination of it represents sanirana or
investigation. The finding of the fruit as a desirable mango is votthapana or decision. The
eating of the fruit represents the apperceptive acts of the seven javana thought-moments.
The swallowing of the last morsels left in the mouth represents tadalambana or
registration of the impression. The man’s resumption of this sleep after replacing his head
covering represents the bhavanga citta resuming to flow smoothly and undisturbed.

Waldron in his book ‘The Buddhist Uncouncious’ sums up:

…Abhidhammic discourse expressed in terms of dharmas has several distinct and

interrelated characterstics:

(1) it depends upon a phenomenological analysis of experience in descriptive terms;

(2) it is metapsychological;

(3) it is a comprehensive description of experience in “systemic” terms, that is, in which

all of its items are mutually defined and distinguished from each other;

(4) finally, Abhidharma thinkers considered an analysis of experience in terms of the

dharmas as the only ultimate account of “how things really are” (yathabhutam)

This ‘dharmic discourse’ was the shared language among many differing schools during a
whole era of Buddhist thinking. Its spread was across the divisions between Mahayana
and Theravada.

Ultimate Reality and Conventional Reality

The Abhidhamma analysis opens a theoretical division between our ordinary experience
and the ‘dhammic’ description of experience. These is conceptualized as the distinction
between parmatthic sat and samvritti sat, which are usually translated as ultimate reality
and conventional reality. It is also known as the doctrine of ‘two truths’ – the ultimate
and the conventional. The role that views (ditthi), language and concepts play in the
perpetuation of dukkha makes Buddhists circumspect regarding the role of language and
concepts. Buddha uses the analogy of a boat to characterize his own teaching. We make a
boat to cross the river. Having crossed the river on the boat, if we feel gratitude and
attachment to this boat and decide to carry it on our head for the onward journey on land,
it is nothing but foolishness. Same is true of all ‘views’. There was a line of interpretation
in Theravada which modified this attitude to ‘views’ by stating that ditthi or ‘views’
mean false views. Then certain ‘views’ become the true ‘views’. The ‘teaching’ or the
dhamma itself, is the true view and therefore is to be regarded as not subject to all that is
said regarding ‘views’ in the discourses.

Such an interpretation makes the distinction between parmarthic sat and samvrtti sat into
a firm duality of opposition. They are no longer seen as the two ends of a continuum. It
would seem that the two major schools of Buddhist thought that arose later were
responding at least partly to this problematic. Madhyamaka, founded by Nagarjuna and
Yogachar, founded by Asanga are those two schools. These two are also the two major
philosophical articulations of the Mahayana Buddhism, or the Great Vehicle Buddhism,
in this period.

In a series of works, Nagarjuna took various categories of thought, including the

categories of Buddhism and of Abhidhamma in particular, and showed the basic
inconsistencies that we get trapped in, once we invest them with substantive meaning.
His conclusion was that all the concepts that we use are ultimately ‘empty’ and lest one
imbue even emptiness with a substantial meaning, he claimed that emptiness was empty.
By arguments using reductio ad absurdum to the hilt, he first destroyed all key concepts.
But then he restored them as samvrtti sat or conventional truth. He argued that ultimately,
the distinction between parmartha sat and samvrtti sat should itself be not taken as
absolute, but as conventional. Nagarjuna is perhaps the most studied Buddhist
philosopher in modern times.

Asanga’s philosophy is supposed to mark the third turning of the wheel of dhamma
within the Mahayana Buddhism. In the first turning, ‘things’ are at the centre. In the
second turning in the Madhyamaka, it is ‘sunya’ or void, which is at the centre. Third
turning of Asanga shows the non-two nature of the ‘thing’ and ‘void’. In the works of
Asanga and his illustrious and prolific brother, Vasubandhu, we see the attempt to
reconcile Abhidhamma with its Madhyamaka critique. Both have written major works of
Abhidhamma, but have advanced the distinct Yogachar re-articulation of the Buddhist
viewpoint in their numerous other works in a textual philosophical style which was
common to Indian philosophical discourse at the time. It must be remembered, though,
that these philosophical articulations were also associated with meditational practices
specific to each school. It would be interesting to explore whether this bond between
systematic articulations and meditational practices was progressively growing weaker.

Asanga recasts the traditional distinction between parmaartha sat and samvrtti sat. In the
“Tattvartha” chapter of his work “Bodhisattvabhumi”, Asanga advances a theory of
three-fold nature of phenomena.

1. a mentally constructed and therefore imaginary nature (parikalpita)

2. a dependent or relative nature (partantra), and
3. a perfected or absolute nature (parinispanna)

Robert Thurman in his article “Buddhist Hermeneutics” tries to establish the relation
between these three ‘natures’ (svabhava). “When all things are said to be empty of
intrinsic substance, this only applies to them in their mentally constructed nature – they
continue to exist as relative things, and their ineffable relativity devoid of conceptual
differentiation is their absolute nature.”

Asanga interprets Abhidhammic dharmas with the help of two principles: dharma
nairatmya (dharmas have no independent self) and nirabhilapya svabhaavata
(inexpressible nature of dharmas). All designations for individual characterstics of
dharmas, e.g., rupa, vedana, nirvana etc., should be understood to be only a designation.
This does not mean that names and dharmas do not exist in any way whatsoever. For
Asanga, both are existent knowables, and may be known directly.

The problem arises because we are caught in the duality of being and non-being.

“… it should be understood that the correctly determined characteristic of reality is its

non-two (advaya) nature, or constitution. The two are said to be being (bhaava) and
non-being (abhaava).

With regard to those two, “being” is whatever is determined to have essential nature
solely by virtue of verbal designation and as such is clung to by the worldly for a long
time…

…when the basis of verbal designation, with recourse to which verbal designation
operates, is insubstantial, non-ascertainable, non-existent, or non-present in any way
whatsoever. This is said to be “non-being”.

The middle path is defined by Asanga as avoiding the two extremes of ‘being’ and ‘non-
being’ with regard to any given thing. Such extremes lead to the belief that what can not
be designated does not exist. ‘Parinispanna’, the perfected nature of phenomena can not
be designated, yet it exists and can be known, can be known so directly, and this is the
knowledge that the Buddhist seeker is after. The highest form of knowledge is known
directly and fulfills the two conditions for such knowledge: knowing things as they are
(bhutataa) and knowing in totality (sarvataa). But the highest form of knowledge
(knowledge free of all obscurations to the knowable, free of jyeya-aavaran) also consists
in knowing that the essential nature of designations, or name, and the essential nature of
dharmas are the same. In stead of denying the existence of something or asserting its
existence, what is to be understood is how each thing exists. Asanga goes on to critique
the two assumptions: ‘Names impart essential nature to the things named’ and ‘things
themselves dictate what names should be applied to them’. He argues instead that
‘names’ and ‘things’ arise in mutual interdependence. ‘Names’ and ‘things’ thus arising
in mutual interdependence, constitute the relative existence (partantra) of the
conventional realm.

‘Conventional’ has acquired an edge of arbitrariness in modern discourse perhaps on

account of the theories of meaning. In the Saussurean context, convention is understood
as arbitrary. In Asanga’s formulation, the connection between names and things is neither
essential nor arbitrary, but conditionally arisen.
The “Logical” School and Dignaaga’s Discourse of Pramanas

We will only be able to brush through this, which is unfortunate. Actually it is not a
school at all like Madhyamaka and Yogachaar. Dignaaga is a major figure not only
Buddhism but for the whole of Indian philosophy. Dignaga initiated a Buddhist discourse
of Pramanas which saw the production of several important works in following centuries.
He also transformed the discourse of pramanas.

Pramanas are traditionally understood as ‘means of knowledge’. Though it also has the
supplementary but equally important meanings of ‘evidence’ and ‘justification’. Pramana
and other cognate words like prama (knowledge or truth), prameya (object of knowledge)
etc. are employed when knowledge itself is under discussion. More accurately, the
subject of discussion is ‘right knowledge’. The question is not so much ‘what is
knowledge’ but ‘what is true knowledge’. Knowledge otherwise is referred by ‘jnana’,
vidya, and so on. Pramana etc. come from the root verb ‘ma’ which means ‘to know’ but
also ‘to measure’. We can say that in pramana discourse, we are taking a measure of
knowledge.

Unlike Nagarjuna, Dignaga does not argue that the very idea of pramana is afflicted by
‘an-avastha’, i.e., infinite regress and therefore is untenable. He rather argues that
characterizing pramana as ‘means of knowing’ is only a metaphorical usage in analogy
with acts like cutting a tree with an axe where axe is a means for cutting tree. In fact, no
distinction can be made between ‘knowledge’ and ‘means of knowledge’, or in other
words between the ‘process’ of knowledge and the ‘product’ of knowledge. Dignaga
proceeds by saying that there are two pramanas: pratyaksa (perception, direct knowledge)
and anumaana (inferred knowledge). Knowledge from words, sabda pramana, is claimed
to be another kind of knowledge through inference, but not an independent pramana.

There are two modes of knowledge, perception and inference, each with their own
objects. Percpetion is knowledge without constructions (devoid of ‘kalpana’) -
Nirvikalpa. The ‘nirvikalpa’ which is also the characterstic of highest form of knowledge
(for example, in Asanga) is also the beginning of all knowledge. The first moment of all
perceptions is nirvikalpa pratyaksa, a direct knowledge. This moment of nirvikalpa
perception is followed by constructions of kalpana or imagination. Kalpana is attaching a
name, a universal and so forth. “Name, universal, a thing specified by a quality, a thing
specified by an action in case of verbs, a thing specified by a substance eg. Staffed or
horned etc.” It is the knowledge that is given in experience, but it is not the ‘object’
which is given in experience. ‘The object ‘given’ in experience is in fact a conceptual
construction itself. But there is ‘right knowledge’ in the realm of constructions as well
which is ‘Anumana’ or inference.

How to understand Nirvikalpa pratyaksa: On the one hand, it is indubitable, unillusory

knowledge, and the foundation of all knowledge. On the other, it is indeterminate, cannot
be characterised even by 'this', it is characterized only by itself, svalakshana, it is devoid
of any ‘–tva’ (or ‘-ness’, chairness, redness, fairness etc.). So what assurance is given
with one hand, is taken away by the other. Perception or pratyaksa could have served as a
‘foundation’ of knowledge in the traditional sense, it there could be a necessary
connection between what is perceived and what is constructed, whether logical or
ontological. But there is no such connection. Knowledge which is in the realm of
conceptual constructions can never seek an epistemological justification on the basis of
the knowledge that is given in experience, that is, in nirvikalpa perception. Nor can it
seek ontological justification on the basis of an object given in experience. The identity
of being and knowing no longer holds.

But, contra Plato in Theaetetus, Dignaga does claim that nirvikalpa perception is
indubitable, true knowledge. This claim has been challenged in Indian philosophy too.
For example, Nyaya thinkers argued that knowledge implies the possibility of error. If
ptratyaksa is always, by definition, free of error, then it is not appropriate to call it
knowledge. The category of nirvikalpa, or the distinction between savikalp and nirvikalp,
was accepted by most subsequent thinkers. But they introduce some kind of
determinations at the stage of nirvikalpa pratyaksa itself. In other words, they build a
bridge between nirvikalpa and savikalpa. In Dignaga’s conception, nirvikalpa conditions
the arising of savikalpa, in association with other condtions. Beyond that there is no other
connection.

Dignaga wouldn’t really mind Socrates’ formulation, if Socrates insists that what is
knowledge comes after perception, and knowledge is where ‘the mind is alone and
engaged with being’. In that case, he would argue, ‘knowledge’ (i.e. conceptual
knowledge) is actually a result of ignorance. Conditioned by ignorance, knowledge
arises. If it was not for this ‘primordial ignorance’, the process of becoming itself will not
take off, and the process of conceptual thought along with it. Two kinds of ignorance
should be distinguished here – ‘ignorance of a particular object’ and ‘primordial
ignorance’. Ordinary ignorance, or ignorance of a particular object presupposes some
framework of knowledge in which one fails to cognize a particular object. Without such a
framework, one can not talk of ‘a particular object’ in the first place. What makes
knowledge and all frameworks of knowledge possible is ‘primordial ignorance’.

The human being is error prone on account of the very condition of its own arising. But it
is not condemned to error and illusion. There is a way, a path to truth and enlightenment.
The conceptual constructions are double-edged, whether they cut through the ignorance
or merely reinforce it, is conditional. The act of knowing itself is double-edged. It is not
possible to simply withdraw into the first moment of nirvikalpa, but there is possibility of
a return to it and to know things as they are and to know things in totality.

My projected work is to look at ordinary perceptions (savikalpa) – perception which is

shot through with constructs of kalpana, but each with a first moment of nirvikalpa.
Theoretical context has become too much caught up in the duality of the conceptual and
the real, between pure experience and pure thought. While admitting that there is such a
duality implicit in the very phenomenon of ‘knowledge’, we can argue that this duality is
also a result of ignorance. Savikalpa perception is a series of moments where the closure
is in the form of a judgment. Perception enacts within itself the movement between
experience and thought, or concept and reality and finally commits itself to a judgment,
which in turn conditions future judgments. My project as currently understood is to
elucidate movement from perception to deeper perception, using the philosophical
apparatus of Buddhism. In this way, we argue for the possibility of cultivating perception.
And further, we argue that in fact practices of art, science, and just ordinary living, are
characterized by cultivation of perception.

Contemporary context

One way of characterizing the contemporary context of philosophy of knowledge is in

terms of the two Copernican revolutions. First is of course the Copernican revolution
which displaced the human being and its earth from the centre of the universe. ‘The
Copernican ‘imperative’ can be seen from Freud’s statement to the effect that Copernicus
displaced man from the centre of universe, Darwin displaced man from the centre of life,
and Freud himself was responsible for the displacement of man from his own centre. This
anti-anthropomorphic trend can be seen continuing in French philosophy and in sciences
of the mind. Alberto Gualandi writes that “… French philosophy … anticipated a
tendency internal to many contemporary philosophical and scientific approaches whose
stated goal is the naturalization of the human and cognitive sciences – at work in a
number of disciplines, from neuroscience to human ethology, via cybernetics and
evolutionary psychology. According to French philosophers, man and his thought would
be but finite forms among others, all engendered on the basis of an obscure and infinite
ground, which one might call Being or Nature. Even the mechanistic and deterministic
features of the naturalizing sciences would be considered by them to be remainders of
anthropomorphism.” ‘The disappearance of man’ is after all a common theme in
contemporary French thought.

The epistemic dimension of this Copernican revolution consists in a movement away

from what we may call ‘the human viewpoint’. As ‘man’ is no longer at the centre of the
universe, man’s viewpoint can no longer serve as a privileged viewpoint. We need a
‘vision’ of the world from a centre which lies at the position of the sun, or from
‘nowhere’. ‘Man’ is prisoner of the perceptual world. A chasm opens between the
perceptual world and the world revealed by science.

But the ‘man’ or the human being is thrust back by Kant’s second Copernican revolution.
Kant was ‘forced out of his slumber’ by Hume because the ground under the first
Copernican revolution was destroyed by Hume. The specificity of the human being and
his cognitive apparatus has now to be called upon in order to state how any knowledge of
nature can be possible – the conditions of possibility of knowledge.

My project is to explore this Copernican problematic from a Buddhist standpoint. On the

one hand we see Buddhism analyse human beings as a composite of five different types
of aggregates and devoid of ‘self’ which brings it in parallel to anti-anthropomorphic
trends of contemporary thought. On the other, Buddhism is eminently a discourse of the
human.
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