Category Archives: deontic

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A preliminary understanding of pratibhā

Within chapter 11 of his masterpiece, the Vidhiviveka `Discernment about prescription’, Maṇḍana identifies the core element which causes people to undertake actions. Maṇḍana expands on Kumārila’s intuition about human behaviour being always goal-oriented by offering a radical reductionist hypothesis. According to this hypothesis, being a motivator is nothing but communicating that the action to be undertaken is an instrument to some coveted result. In this sense, prescribing X to people desiring Y is nothing but explaining that X is the means to achieve Y.

At this point, Maṇḍana introduces some opponents, mainly one upholding pratibhā.

The term pratibhā is found in Bhartṛhari, whom Maṇḍana extensively quotes in chapter 11 of his Vidhiviveka. It is clear that Maṇḍana suggests the pratibhā as an alternative way of making sense of what motivates people to act. In this sense, pratibhā is a pravartaka `motivator’, something causing one to act. It is the key alternative to Maṇḍana’s own proposal that the knowledge that the enjoined action will lead to a desired result is what causes people to act. The pratibhā theory radically opposes this one.

In fact, Maṇḍana’s theory is primarily cognitive (you act with regard to X because you know something relevant about X), whereas the pratibhā theory is almost behaviourist (you act with regard to X because of the pratibhā inducing you to act).

The Prābhākara opponent within Maṇḍana will later appropriate this theory and join it with their own deontological understanding, according to which we act primarily because we are enjoined to do so, thus adding a deontological nuance which was absent in Bhartṛhari’s view of pratibhā.

But what is pratibhā before its Prābhākara reinterpretation? A key passage for the understanding of the pratibhā theory in Maṇḍana before its Prābhākara appropriation is the very sentence introducing it, at the beginning of section 11.3. There, the opponent suggests pratibhā as the thing causing one to undertake an action. An uttarapakṣin asks which kind of artha this is and the answer is at first sight surprising: It is no artha at all (na kaścit). What is it then? It is a cognitive event (prajñā) leading to action.

The point seems to be that there is no mental content, but only the urge towards acting. The pratibhā is a mental state without intentional content.

A further hint is found at the beginning of 11.5, where Maṇḍana responds to the paradox that the pratibhā cognition has no object, but it causes activity. This results, says Maṇḍana, in an undesirable consequence. In fact, if in the case of pratibhā the cognition of the connection between word and meaning plays no role, because the pratibhā has no intentional content, a person hearing a prescription should act independently of any cognition of the meaning.

But can we have purely agentive mental states? Can there be incitement to action without any content?

I am grateful to Hugo David for an inspiring talk on pratibhā back in 2018. This interpretation should, however, not be blamed on him. Similarly, I am always grateful to Elliot Stern for his edition of the Vidhiviveka and for the work we shared in the last 12 months.

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Jayanta on why knowing one’s good is not enough to act

Today I discussed with Sudipta Munsi how Jayanta (9th c., Kaśmīr) speaks of the motivator of exhortative sentences. Why do we undertake activities upon hearing an exhortative sentence?

Among the possible candidates are one’s desire (rāga) for the output of the activity, and the cognition that the enjoined activity is the means to achieve one’s welfare etc. (śreyassādhanatva).

Jayanta thinks that the latter theory is untenable, since one does not undertake activities, even if conducive to one’s welfare, unless one desires it (as we all know when it comes to brushing our teeth or doing daily workouts). The refutation then becomes more technical, because Jayanta explains that the śreyassādhanatva theory is introduced as part of the bhāvanā theory, but this cannot work.

In fact, according to the latter theory, the nature of an action (bhāvanā) consists of three elements (1. thing to be realised, 2. instrument to realise it and 3. procedure). For the śreyassādhanatva, the two relevant parts are the first two. But an activity delimited by these two parts does not have the form of being the means to one’s welfare (śreyassādhanatva) since it is “incomplete” (aniṣpanna). Why so? Because one can only speak of śreyassādhanatva at the end of the process, once the activity is pariniṣpanna ‘complete’. Thus, śreyassādhanatva comes at the end of the process and cannot be the motivator.

Maṇḍana Miśra, possibly because of similar criticisms, inserts the element of desire within the śreyassādhanatva, which he therefore more frequently calls iṣṭasādhanatva, i.e. the idea that an action is the ‘instrument to realise something desired’.

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Various types of bādha (in epistemology, deontics, Śabara, Kumārila…)

As it is often the case for other terms (e.g., nitya or even pramāṇa), various terms which are used technically in the epistemological debates between, among others, Mīmāṃsā, Nyāya, and Buddhist epistemological school, also have a deontic-ritual background. This applies also to bādha, whose epistemological meaning is only the tip of the iceberg of its Mīmāṃsā use.

In epistemology, it seems to mean `invalidation’, whereas in deontics, it means `suspension’ (which could be again brought back to use). Could the two be reconciled? Yes, if only one considers that within the svataḥ prāmāṇya framework any invalidation is necessarily temporary.

As for Śabara’s vs Kumārila’s use of bādha, the first thing one notices is that Śabara deals with bādha within the latter part of the PMS-Bhāṣya, namely within the discussion of vikṛti ‘ectype’ rituals. That is, Śabara primarily discusses bādha as the blocking mechanism in case something of the archetype ritual does not extend to the ectype one. Therefore, Kumārila has to invent a new space for bādha while commenting on the balābala-adhikaraṇa within the first group of books in the PMS-Bhāṣya. There, Kumārila treats bādha as a general device, not related to the prakṛti-to-vikṛti extension. This treatment is then adopted also by later Mīmāṃsā authors (MBP, MNS, Āpadevī etc.).

Jhā (1942, chapter XXIX) mixes the two understandings insofar as he calls bādha `exclusion’ and introduces it as part of the prakṛti-to-vikṛti extension of details (corresponding to its role in the ŚBh), but then moves on (from end of p. 342 onwards) and discusses it in the light of later sources, influenced by Kumārila’s approach.

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Maṇḍana’s revolution: From deontic to descriptive interpretation of injunctions

Maṇḍana’s Vidhiviveka `Discernment about injunctions’ deals with chiefly two topics at length:

  1. What is the nature of a prescription? After many discussions, examining the positions of Prabhākara and Bhartṛhari, the answer is that a Vedic prescription is just the statement that the action prescribed is the instrument to get a desired output.
  2. If the above is true, how can one distinguish between fixed and elective rituals?

Let me now elaborate on both topics.

First, a sacrifice is considered by Maṇḍana to be an iṣṭasādhana, i.e., an instrument to something desired. A sacrificial injunction is therefore just the communication that the sacrifice is such (i.e., an instrument to something desired). Thus,

O(x/desire for y)

means

x is an instrument for y

This would work also for negative obligations, e.g.,

O (not eating (x)/desire for y)

means

forming the intention not to eat x is an instrument for y

Please notice that this could also cover cases of negative obligations which apply to everyone (in this case, according to the Viśvajit-metarule, one postulates heaven, i.e., happiness, as result):

O (not doing x/T)

is re-read as:

O (not doing x/desire for heaven)

This, in turn, means:

forming the intention to refrain from doing x is an instrument for heaven

This means that omitting the enjoined action (that is, not forming the intention to refrain from x) only leads to the non-obtainment of heaven. The situation would have been different had the same action x been forbidden, as will be explained immediately below.

What about prohibitions? They communicate one that the action prohibited is an instrument to something undesired, i.e., suffering (duḥkha).
Thus,

F (x/T)

means

x is an instrument for something absolutely undesirable

For instance, the prohibition to perform violence on any living beings (na hiṃsyāt sarvā bhūtāni) has the structure:

F (violence/T)

and not

*O (not violence/T)

because, if respected, it does not lead to any positive result (unlike an obligation), whereas, if transgressed, it leads to a negative output.

This means that prohibitions and prescriptions have a similar structure (both state that a given action is an instrument for something, respectively desirable or undesirable). Prescriptions are, however, in general effective only on people who desire that outcome, whereas prohibitions are effective on everyone, since the forbidden action would lead to outcomes which are absolutely undesirable (pāpa, which will interfere with all of one’s future undertakings).

The main advantage of this structure, as I can see it, is that one avoids the main problems of having a deontic logic, by translating deontic statements into descriptive ones.

What about the śyena, which prescribes one to perform a sacrifice leading to violence? śyena is anartha, i.e., in Maṇḍana’s understanding, it is also an instrument for something undesired, that is suffering (duḥkha). Thus, it should not be performed because it has this structure:

Śyena–»violence

and given:

F(violence/T)

we know that:

violence–»something undesired

Thus,

śyena–»something undesired

Thus, the choice to perform a śyena would be based on a misjudgement of what is at stake, since the positive output (the death of one’s enemy) is anyway less positive than the negative sanction that will follow.
NB: The target reader of Maṇḍana appears to be a rational agent who is completely able to judge the outcomes of their actions (unlike in the case of Prabhākara).

This leads to a problem, however, because if all sacrifices are considered to be just instruments to something desired, how can one account for the difference between elective and fixed results? It would indeed seem that all sacrifices are just recommended if one wants to achieve a given result, no more than that. Why would one perform some every day and some others only on given occasions? If the performance depended on the desire, an opponent suggests, then there would be no fixed sacrifices, since as soon as one gets what one desired, one would stop performing the sacrifice.

Maṇḍana examines various scenarios, including one that says that if one omits the performance of fixed sacrifices, one obtains pāpa (demerit), which will then block any further enterprise. Thus, fixed sacrifice would have as a positive result only the reduction of pāpa, whereas the their omission has a negative result, i.e., accumulation of further pāpa.

But what about the auxiliaries of fixed and elective sacrifices? According to all Mīmāṃsā authors, the former have to be performed as much as one can, the latter exactly as prescribed. Why this difference, if both sacrifices are just the same thing, namely instruments to something desired? Maṇḍana explains that the Vedic prescriptions enjoining fixed sacrifices prescribe them “as long as one lives”. This means that in their case the fixedness does not depend on the nature of the desire (i.e., they are not fixed just because one fixedly desires their output) but rather on the Vedic prescriptions prescribing them.
Thus, due to the metarule that says that the Veda cannot prescribe meaningless things and due to the metarule that only possible things can be prescribed, the “as long as one lives” clause cannot mean to perform auxiliaries exactly as prescribed. Thus, auxiliaries of fixed sacrifices are to be performed only as much as one can.

One might wonder: What about elective sacrifices to be done in order to obtain heaven? Given that heaven is happiness and every one desires happiness all the time, such sacrifices are potentially also to be performed all the time. Should one perform also their auxiliaries as much as possible?

The answer is no, because each elective sacrifice is incumbent on one every day anew and as such one is responsible to perform it (adhikārin) only if one has all relevant sacrificial ingredients. If one lacks them, one is not the adhikārin and therefore does not have to perform the sacrifice. Thus, there is no need to perform a sacrifice as much as one can.

By contrast, in the case of fixed sacrifices, one needs to perform them every day, since they are fixed, one is therefore always the adhikārin of them simply by being alive. Therefore, if one lacks, e.g., a relevant ingredient, one just performs the sacrifice as much as one can.

Maṇḍana on how fixed sacrifices need to be performed with less care than elective ones

Maṇḍana reforms Mīmāṃsā philosophy of action and deontic by saying that one undertakes actions only because one believes them to be the means to a desired output. (more…)

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Could Upaniṣadic sentences be interpreted as prescriptions? A debate within Maṇḍana’s Vidhiviveka

Within the Vidhiviveka, a Prābhākara-inclined Mīmāṃsaka debates with a Vedāntin about the meaning of Upaniṣadic sentences on the self.

The Prābhākara insists that all sentences should be injunctive in character, and that Upaniṣadic sentences should also be interpreted in this way. But what exactly could they prescribe? They could enjoin one to know their content, they suggest. But this option is not viable, since there is no difference between “s is p” and “you ought to know that s is p” insofar as one knows that s is p through the first sentence, too.

A further option would be that the Upaniṣadic sentences enjoin one to know their meaning in a definite way (niścaya), but this option is also ruled out. For, if the niścaya were obtained through language alone, then it would occur automatically, without the need to enjoin it. If it were not obtained through language alone, then it would occur because of something other than language, but then the Upaniṣads would no longer be the instrument for knowing about the ātman, which runs against other fundaments of the school.

At this point, the Prābhākara-like objector suggests a further possibility, namely that Upaniṣadic sentences prescribe arthaparatā, i.e., the ‘intentness on the meaning’. This also does not go, because prescriptions need to have preferably a visible purpose, like ritual prescriptions. And understanding sentences as aiming primarily at their meaning would put at a disadvantage exactly prescriptive sentences, which aim not only at conveying their meaning, but also at urging someone to perform a given activity. Moreover, a prescription should aim at a certain goal and knowledge cannot be a goal separated from the content to be known (as explained above with regard to the case of whether the understanding itself could be enjoined): ज्ञानस्य ज्ञेयाभिव्याप्तिफलत्वात् फलान्तरानभ्युपगमात्।

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Reparations, expiations and prāyaścittas in Mīmāṃsā

Mīmāṃsā authors distinguish broadly between prescriptions (vidhi) and prohibitions (niṣedha). The first ones are linked with a result, so that if one has fulfilled them, they get a reward. The latter, if respected, don’t lead to any result, whereas they lead to sanctions if transgressed.

Prescriptions are further divided into three groups (fixed, occasional and elective). The first two groups are configured as strong obligations (leading to rewards if fulfilled, but omitted only at the risk of sanctions), whereas the latter are configured as recommendations. As for prohibitions, they are divided into prohibitions applying to the person throughout their lives and prohibitions applying only to a specific context.

Next comes the somehow controversial case of reparations or expiations (prāyaścitta). These are in fact contrary-to-duty prescriptions. Such prescriptions have as their addressee someone who did some- thing wrong during the performance of a sacrifice; therefore, they can be taken to be contrary-to- duty (ctd) prescriptions.

Expiations can be used to eliminate the negative consequences of a transgressed prohibition. That is, after having performed the corresponding expiation, a transgressed kratvartha prohibition does no longer lead to a negative output on the sacrifice, and a transgressed puruṣārtha prohibition does no longer lead to a sanction. In Dharmaśāstra (jurisprudence) texts, for instance, authors discuss expiations to be performed after having transgressed the duty to live in Āryāvarta (the part of South Asia where nobles people live and where liberation can be achieved).

There seems, however, to be a basic difference between the first and the second type of expiations, since the first ones seem to be routinely performed in case of contextual errors. By contrast, the second type of expiations seems to be an undesired alternative. In other words, more research is needed, but it is possible that puruṣārtha expiations are of this form:

F (p) → ¬ p ∨ p ∧ Expiation

By contrast, puruṣārtha expiations seem to have this form:

F (p) → ¬ p ∨ p ∧ Sanction ∨ Expiation ∧ Lesser Sanction

What do readers think? Does my understanding match your knowledge of Mīmāṃsā and/or Dharmaśāstra?

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Four ways to deal with conflicts

Mīmāṃsā authors deal with conflicting commands according to a decreasing scale of preferences, which seems to me comparable to the scale of preferences according to which one deals with legal conflicts. Starting from below, 4) The least preferred option is to say that the commands at stake are meaningless or purposeless (nirarthaka). This is the least preferred one because it leads to the fact that the commands are not fulfilled.

Then comes 3) vikalpa, which is equivalent to flipping a coin, i.e., arbitrarily choosing one of the two commands to be fulfilled. This is also not ideal, because one of the two commands is not fulfilled and because this is arbitrarily done.

Then comes 2) bādha, which is equivalent to temporarily suspending the more general command and applying the most specific one. The suspension allows one to retain the general command as the default one for future undetermined instances.

Then comes 1), i.e., understanding the conflict as due to a failure in understanding the commands. One then rephrases the seemingly conflicting commands in a way which shows that no command is even suspended and that there was an exception embedded in the first command. 1) is only applied in the case of conflicts between a prescription and a prohibition.

By contrast, the most favoured solution for conflicts among prescriptions is samuccaya, i.e., fulfilling both prescriptions (e.g. “Do x given a” and “Do y given a” can be solved by doing both x and y given the situation a). If this is not possible, Mīmāṃsā texts speak of recurring to vikalpa (equivalent to flipping a coin to decide which prescription to fulfil). This is the least preferred option, because it implies disregarding one of the two prescriptions. Hence, vikalpa is reserved to the limit case of exactly equivalent prescriptions (e.g., “bake a rice-cake” and “bake a millet-cake”) which fulfil exactly the same role and are interchangeable.

What about the intermediate cases, i.e., cases in which the two prescriptions cannot be both fulfilled, but there are reasons to prefer one over the other? One applies bādha, i.e., suspension of the more general prescription in favour of the more specific one. Suspension is generally not the most preferred solution for deontic conflicts, because it implies the temporary suspension of a command. Mīmāṃsā authors prefer to rephrase both conflicting commands in a way as to embed one within the other in order to respect both. This embedding of one within the other implies the embedment of an exception within a general rule. I.e., out of the conflict between “Do x in every case” and “Don’t do x in case a”, one embeds the second command as an exception of the first as “Do x in every case but a”. This device is called paryudāsa and it is the preferred way to solve conflicts between a prescription and a prohibition.

But why is it the case that the conflict between two prescriptions cannot be solved through the device of paryudāsa (i.e., embed the more specific command as an exception of the more general one)?
Is it because paryudāsa is by definition reserved for cases of conflicts between prescriptions and prohibitions? Is it an a priori decision or a reasoned one? I am currently working on this topic (reasoned suggestions, as usual, are welcome).

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The role of the prescription to learn the Veda

Why should one study Mīmāṃsā? In order to understand the meaning of the Veda, say Bhāṭṭa Mīmāṃsā authors. But why should one learn the Veda? According to Bhāṭṭa Mīmāṃsā, because a Vedic prescription itself tells you to do so. The prescription at stake is svādhyāyo ‘dhyetavyaḥ “One should study one’s portion of the Veda”, called adhyayanavidhi. This, however, leads to several problems.