Buddhists have not until recently attempted to work out precise positions on many issues with a moral dimension such as war, justice, punishment, sexuality, medical ethics, and environmental degradation. Although Buddhism, like all other religions, has teachings on “morality,” it has largely lacked the systematic philosophical exploration of morality that is meant by “ethics.” Because Buddhism's ancient texts have little material to offer on many of these issues, those who attempt to construct “the” or even “a” Buddhist position usually base themselves on larger principles such as Buddhist teachings on the virtues of love, compassion, generosity, etc. and its critique of greed, ill-will, delusion, etc. “Engaged Buddhism” has used these principles to involve Buddhists in issues such as war, environment, human rights, and LGBT rights. However, Buddhists live in the same world as do other people, and some have resorted to violence, waged war, discriminated against ethnic minorities and women, incarcerated gay people, enforced capital punishment, and promoted development at the expense of the environment, justifying their actions as consistent with Buddhist principles. The rule of thumb to which we have pointed previously - namely, that actions motivated by the three poisons are bad whereas those motivated by their opposites are good - leaves plenty of room for disagreement.
As an example of how Buddhists might approach a contemporary issue, I will briefly sketch what Buddhism might contribute to the climate crisis, by which I mean such interrelated problems as rising seas, species extinction, loss of biodiversity, consumption of resources, farming practices, and meat-eating, to name a few. As we will see, there are widely divergent possibilities.
Early Buddhist texts display an ambivalent attitude toward the environment in general and the lives of other animals in particular. Although they never affirm that it is permissible to harm plants or animals, they do not explicitly forbid practices of farming, logging, or city-building, or the use of animals for labor, all of which can harm. However, some early texts provide resources that modern Buddhists can apply to environmental problems. In the Heap of Jewels Discourse (Mahāratnakuta Sutra), the Buddha teaches forest-dwelling monks to show kindness to animals, even to the point of allowing predators to eat their flesh. He adds that the forest will be conducive to their practice (as it was to his; his awakening famously happened under a tree) because it will help them to see that, like the grass and trees, they have no atman (persistent self) and arise merely from causes and conditions (Chang 2000: 19).
Right livelihood includes nonparticipation in occupations such as butchery, which means that historically those roles have often been filled by non-Buddhists, such as Muslims in Tibet. But does ahimsā mean that Buddhists should be vegetarian? The Buddha did not say so. He may have discouraged meat-eating in general, as some have suggested, even though he permitted monks to eat meat as long as they had no reason to believe that animals had been killed specifically to provide their food. Or he may not have actually made such an exception, as others, such as Roshi Philip Kapleau (1912-2004), have contended (Kapleau 1986). In any case, over the long course of Buddhism’s development, no general Buddhist policies emerged regarding wildlife conservation, forest preservation, animal husbandry, and the use of animals for work.
As twentieth-century environmentalism came to the attention of Buddhists, discrete attitudes began to emerge in the ranks of Buddhist scholars and leaders (Harris 1995). Those who are sometimes labeled “Green Buddhists” think that Buddhist doctrines such as dependent-arising (pratitya-samutpāda) provide a clear basis for concern about other life forms and their habitats. For instance, Joanna Macy (1991) compared dependent-arising to systems theory, which explores the intricate interrelationships of systems in particular problems. She concludes that when any problem is analyzed thoroughly, it reveals that in some way or another every phenomenon impinges on every other phenomenon. This is put simply and graphically in “Interbeing,” an essay by Thich Nhat Hanh (1992), probably the most famous “Green” Buddhist. He states that if one looks deeply, one can see clouds and sunshine in a sheet of paper, since without the sun and rain no tree could have grown to have supplied the pulp from which it was made. He goes through a list of other factors (such as the logger, the logger’s parents, and the logger’s breakfast) to conclude that in some way or another all things depend upon all other things (1992: 96). “Green” Buddhists assert that because dependent-arising ultimately means that all things are related to us, if we care about ourselves we must also care about the fate of the Earth and all that is in it, a shift in attitude Macy calls the “greening of the self.” Green Buddhists with a Mahāyāna perspective also refer to the doctrine that all sentient beings have “buddha nature” (understood in various ways, but always including the idea that all beings have the potential to become buddhas; see the chapter by Duckworth in this volume). Because of their buddha nature, all beings have intrinsic value and should be protected.
Another, smaller group are scholars who agree that Buddhist doctrine can probably support concern for the environment but who are critical of Green Buddhists. Lambert Schmithausen (1991) carefully contextualizes early Buddhist teachings on the possibility that plants are sentient and about regard for animals and concludes that while lessons drawn from these teachings might be applicable to current situations, one should be careful to qualify their support rather than portraying them as “Buddhist” doctrines. Christopher Ives (2013: 542, 553) criticizes the Green Buddhist interpretation of dependent-arising on several grounds: it goes far beyond the original context for the Buddha’s teaching and the history of the Buddhist tradition; it is wrong to assume that we necessarily value anything upon which we depend; and it implies that things have intrinsic value and rights and that they are equal.
Nevertheless, he agrees that Buddhism contains ample sources relevant to the problem, such as meditation that reveals interdependence, virtues that foster simplicity, frugality, contentment, and generosity, and teachings about false concepts of self that underlie greed (Ives 2013: 546-56). David McMahan (2008: 174-176) is critical of Thich Nhat Hanh’s expansion of the idea of rebirth (because his concept of “Interbeing” connects our lives not just with the chain of rebirths established by karma, but also with our relationship to the cosmos) and revision of the idea of karma (because instead of attributing the poor circumstances of a life to prior actions, he blames political and economic systems in which we all participate).
In a yet smaller group are scholars who feel that Buddhism provides no grounds for an environmental stance, or even that it is fundamentally anti-worldly. Noriaki Hakamaya is a proponent of “Critical Buddhism,” a movement in Japanese Buddhist scholarship that seeks to “prune” concepts from Mahāyāna Buddhism that it feels are at odds with fundamental Buddhist doctrines. Like the scholars named above, Hakamaya criticizes Green Buddhism’s extension of the doctrine of dependent-arising, but he does not suggest that there are resources for environmental action (Swanson 1993).
Finally, an important segment of Buddhist thinkers might be labeled “nondual ecologists.” They are inspired by Mahayana philosophers and poets, particularly in China, who wondered whether plants, or even rocks and clouds, should be considered “sentient beings” and as having “buddha nature.” Gary Snyder (1930- ), a poet and Buddhist activist, has explored the implications of the philosophy of the Japanese Zen master Dogen 道元禪師(1200-1253) in his “Mountains and Rivers Sutra”: 山水經 Sansuikyo) and the metaphor of Indra’s Net (found in the Flower Garland Discourse (Avatamsaka Sutra; Ch. Huayan jing 華嚴經), the theoretical basis for the Chinese Huayan school). Dogen collapses cause and effect, declaring that there is a world of sentient beings in water or in clouds (Snyder 1990: 117); hence, the dualism of cause and effect or environment and sentient being is denied. Indra, the mythological king of the gods in the Indian Vedas, has a magical net with gems at each knot; the gems have many facets and reflect each of the other gems, so that each contains all of the others. The philosophy of Huayan, accordingly, is radically nondualistic, asserting that all phenomena interpenetrate. Snyder finds Indra’s Net a fitting metaphor for the way in which the different elements of the “food web” (the phrase he prefers to “food chain”) convert energy from other parts into different forms, so that although we might be one particular part of the food web we are also found everywhere in it (Barnhill 1990: 26). Another “nondual ecologist,” John McClellan (1993: 60), wants to move beyond biocentrism, the regard for all life, to identification with “Everything That Moves,” which includes everything that exhibits negentropic activity - activity of organization and creativity - such as math, music, beliefs, social systems, culture, and technology. Because there is just Sentient Being, not sentient beings, nothing requires protection because there is nothing that is vulnerable to a threat (pp. 62-63).
Theistic religions can ground their concern for the environment on relations with sacred beings. The tribal religions of the past (and present) considered nature to be infused with spirits and depended upon their shamans to manage the larger ecological field. Buddhism does not share these beliefs and is not necessarily concerned with maintaining biodiversity, preventing the extinction of species, or even saving the Earth. But it is very interested in awakening as many people as possible, which cannot happen in the conditions of poverty and strife that the climate crisis threatens to intensify. Awakening also increases, at the very least, a sense of being connected with what is outside of ourselves (as Thich Nhat Hanh says, a human being is made of only nonhuman elements). And Buddhism is very interested in the cultivation of virtues. The cultivation of contentment and generosity alone would reduce acquisitiveness and selfishness, which would go a long way toward reducing consumption and waste. The cultivation of love and compassion would raise concerns about the effect of our actions upon other humans and all other sentient beings and their environments. In summation, it appears that there are many resources in Buddhism relevant to environmental issues.
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