Secular Buddhism UK

There seem to be several causes for the notion that human beings are persons possessing a ‘self’. We are separate physical objects; we know what we do, remember what’s done, predict what to do, and feel responsible for our actions.  These are not just private conclusions, for as much of society as can be bothered, observes our status as physical objects, knows, remembers and predicts our actions, and holds us responsible. All of this finds expression in the uses, conjugations and derivations of the term ‘self’, alongside companion terms such as ‘I’, ‘me’ and ‘mine’: I have a self; it belongs to me; this is myself.

As well as these ordinary usages, there is overlap in meaning between ‘self’ and ‘soul’ (or ‘spirit’), which seems to be motivated by the continuity of physical features observed, and behaviours expressed, by individuals throughout childhood and maturity. In the West, that overlap has motivated considerable argument at cross-purposes between Humanists and Christians.

With the infiltration of eastern ideas, especially the concept of anatta (not-self) the overlapping meaning of ‘self’ and ‘soul’ is once more called into question. As usual, there is disagreement about translation (you say not-self, I say not-soul, she says not-‘divine spark’) but the Buddhist doctrine of anatta seems to be an overt rejection of the notion of a soul, if soul is understood as any sort of continuous self, a self that endures unchanged throughout the life of an identifiable person, or again: a soul is a self with enduring qualities that enable a person to be identified, from a God’s-eye view, as distinct from all others, even in the absence of habitual embodiment.  Anatta, then, may not quite mean not-self as such, but it does mean not-continuous-self, not-enduring-self, or not-unchanging-self.

At risk of exacerbating the confusion between soul, self and anatta, here’s a list of possible meanings covered by the root term ‘self’.  Such a list is unlikely to  attract agreement without cooperative input, but something along these lines could forestall a lot of talk at cross-purposes. In any event, language-users ought to be clear about what they mean when they talk around the self.

1. I/me/ myself/her/him/herself/himself. Indicative ways by which individuals identify each other.
2. Subject of experience. According to John Crook, on careful observation the subjectivity of experience is always slightly retrospective. Francisco Varela seems to offer a neuroscientific explanation for this tardiness, with his suggestion that subjectivity is constituted by the end-state of any and all sequences of synchronous neuronal activation, which (almost) immediately become the beginning-state of subsequent sequences.
3. Proto-self.  The awareness or feeling of embodiment, originating in phylogenetically-ancient parts of the brain as a response to approximations towards and away from homeostasis in bodily systems. This basic sort of self has been suggested by Parvici and Damasio, and by Panksepp.
4. Moral self. This is the responsibility ascribed to persons by themselves, by society, and hence by laws and customs. It is a personal assimilation of what makes a social system function, developed out of long adjudication of actions and consequences. The moral self arises from the innate ‘duplexity’ of human nature, as much for others as for oneself.
5. Historical self. A mode of assessment by a person and of a person, in the light of their role in past actions and events.
6. Surrogate self. Imaginary versions of the person appearing in cognitive scenarios, from daydreaming to planning, designed to rehearse future possibilities.
7. ‘Face’ self. Described by Irving Goffman, these are manifestations of self in social situations. They are relatively deceitful behavioural presentations to suit a variety of motivations and expectations.
8. Soul-like self. A ‘divine spark’ or spirit, in the sense of an enduring mental substance (atta). This cluster of concepts affords some sort of meaning in many kinds of discourse but especially religious discourse concerned with continuing existence after death. From my own hybrid Buddhist/neuroscientific point of view, they are an imaginary concept referring to a fictional state of affairs.

As I have only a layperson’s understanding of Freud’s psychoanalytic system of classification, I have not included the ego, id and superego. The ego might encompass 6, the surrogate self, 7, the ‘face’ self, and 5, the historical self. The id could be associated with 3, the proto-self, but that alone would do scant justice to the id’s supposed relation to the unconscious. The superego might encompass 8, the soul, and 4, the moral self. But this sort of abrupt assimilation of one set of categories to another is unpersuasive, for it takes little account of Freud’s underlying theoretical justifications.

The list does not enable a conclusive definition of self or not-self, but it goes some way to explain why precision is so difficult: the meaning of self is too extensive. There are grounds for arguing that the term ‘self’ is a reasonable cover for 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5, since they are parts of personality without which ordinary life would be impossible. Number 6, the surrogate self, fulfils a useful and efficient purpose in the cognitive modelling of future dangers and opportunities, but because it appears in a host of forms, some archetypal and others idiosyncratic, to suit a variety of hypothetical situations, it may be better characterised as not-self. Since 7, the ‘face’ self and 8, the soul are both imaginary and both deceptive, they seem to me to be suitable candidates for not-self.

The precise contents of the list matters less than awareness of the complexity covered by the concept of self. For a Buddhist, such complexity is likely to be investigated by mindfulness, observing reason and emotion, concepts and feelings, in formal meditation carried through into everyday life. When aspects of the self come to mind, here are labels to use when are helpful, labels to lose when they are not.

(Bibliographic references on request)