Category Archives: Philosophy

Posted on

Uddyotakara on absence (NV on 1.1.4)

Uddyotakara is perhaps the first extant Nyāya thinker discussing six types of contact in his commentary on the definition of direct perception (pratyakṣa) in his commentary on NS 1.1.4. By doing so, he can add a specific kind of contact in charge for grasping absence. He calls it viśeṣaṇaviśeṣyabhāva, possibly `the condition of being specified by a specifier (being absence)’.

Unfortunately, he does not seem to elaborate thereon. Vācaspati elaborates extensively and discusses absent pots on the floor, the sheer floor and all we know after Kumārila. Why does Uddyotakara not elaborate thereon?

Probably because someone else (who?) in the tradition had mentioned this possibility and so readers would have understood what he meant by the mention of the sixth kind of contact.

Moreover, is Uddyotakara’s viśeṣaṇaviśeṣyabhāva the same as what will be later known as saṃyuktaviśeṣaṇatā ‘the fact of being an attribute of something being in contact [with the sense faculties]’?

Posted on

Uddyotakara on absence as an instrument of knowledge: NS 2.2.1–12

What is the pre-Kumārila position of Nyāya authors on absence as an instrument of knowledge? There seem to have been several shifts, from inference to perception (and then again to inference in some cases after Kumārila).

At the end of an epistemological discussion in a Sanskrit text, it is standard to discuss the sources of knowledge (pramāṇa) you don’t accept. Long-term memory (smṛti) has most likely been already excluded at the beginning, while discussing the definition of pramāṇa, so that it is not mentioned among the specific candidates.

Within Mīmāṃsā, Kumārila excludes (at the end of the discussion on abhāva) sambhava (inclusion) and aitihya (tradition). Within Nyāya, Gautama excludes these two, as well as two sources accepted by Kumārila, i.e. arthāpatti (cogent evidence) and abhāva (absence).

The discussion starts in NS 2.2.1, where an opponent says: “There are not 4 sources of knowledge, because [also] tradition, inclusion, cogent evidence and absence as sources of knowledge”. The discussion then goes on for several pages. NS 2.2.2 says that aitihya is nothing but linguistic communication (śabda) and inclusion is inference (anumāna). This is what Kumārila also says. What is different is that Gautama says that also arthāpatti and abhāva are nothing but inference.

This is remarkable, because the classical position of Nyāya authors (e.g., Jayanta) about absence is that this is known through sense-perception (not inference!). Only after Kumārila’s objections and through Gaṅgeśa etc. they say that in some cases inference is indeed needed (e.g., when you infer now that a certain person was not in a place you visited earlier today).

NS 2.2.3ff focus on arthāpatti, which is now said to be inconclusive (anaikāntika). NS 2.2.7 focuses on abhāva, which is now said to be not a pramāṇa at all, because there is not a corresponding prameya. Please notice that early Nyāya does not accept abhāva as a separate category, whereas this will be later added as the seventh padārtha.

Uddyotakara explains: abhāva is not a source of knowledge, because there is no content for it. Uddyotakara also adds something which seems new, namely that there is indeed a pramāṇa at stake, but that this has as its content something existing (again, weird, given the status of abhāva as padārtha…).

NS 2.2.8 speaks again in favour of abhāva, insofar as it is used to cognise, among marked things, the ones which are not marked.
This seems to prove that abhāva is indeed a source of knowledge, as explained by Vātsyāyana and Uddyotakara. NS 2.2.9 goes back to the problem that there is no prameya for such a pramāṇa.

Uddyotakara on NS 2.2.12 explains that there are only two types of absence (prior and posterior absence). This is relevant, because Kumārila had discussed absence as being four-fold (thus, Uddyotakara clearly did not know this classification, since he does not even take notice of it). Interestingly, Vācaspati, commenting on Uddyotakara, feels the need to add that the fact that he mentions two does not mean that he refutes the others.

What does this all tell us about early Nyāya until Uddyotakara and absence?

  • 1. that Uddyoataka only knows a 2-fold classification of abhāva as prameya.
  • 2. that an early position saw abhāva as part of anumāna (this seems to be also Uddyotakara’s position at the end of his commentary on NS 2.2.2).
  • 3. that abhāva is considered a useful epistemological category, e.g., to speak about things lacking a certain characteristic.

The above is based on the commentary on NS 2.2.1–12. I will come back to later passages of the NV.

Addendum: Jhā translates abhāva as “antithesis”. Don’t ask me why.

Posted on

How to define valid cognition if you are Śālikanātha (analysis of various criteria)?

Śālikanātha discusses the definition of a source of knowledge (pramāṇa) at the beginning of his Pramāṇapārāyaṇa and analyses various criteria.

First of all, he discusses the criterion of avisaṃvāditva ‘non deviation’ (used by Dharmakīrti and his school) and shows how this is not enough to exclude memory (smṛti). Dharmakīrti could exclude memory because it is conceptual, but this would exclude also inference (anumāna).

Next suggestion (again from Dharmakīrti’s school): using causal efficacy (arthakriyā) as criterion. But in this way memory should again be considered a source of knowledge, since it can be causally efficacious. One could say that, unlike in memory, in the case of inference there is a connection (though indirect) with the object. But this, again, applies to memory as well!

A new attempt is to say that a source of knowledge is identified insofar as it leads to know something unknown (aprāptaprāpaka), which is a criterion typical of Kumārila. A variant thereof is to say that it causes to act people who were previously inactive (pravartakatva), but this would lead to the fact that non-conceptual cognitions (nirvikalpa) would not be sources of knowledge, given that they cannot promote any action.

Why not using aprāptaprāpaka as criterion? Because this would not apply to the case of continuous cognitions (dhārāvāhikajñāna). These are cognitions like the ones originated out of continuously looking at the same object. These count, according to Śālikanātha, as sources of knowledge, but would not be such if the criterion of aprāptaprāmāṇaka were to be the defining one.

What about dṛḍha ‘sure’ as criterion, then?
Here Śālikanātha can give voice to the Prābhākara theory of knowledge. First of all, he asks, what would dṛḍha exclude? If it excludes doubt, then this is wrong, since there is no doubtful cognition. What we call ‘doubt’ is instead the sum of two distinct cognitions (readers might want to recall the fact that for the Nyāya school, doubt is a cognition in which two alternatives are exactly equally probably).
As for erroneous cognitions (bhrānti), these also don’t need to be excluded from the definition of knowledge, because there are no erroneous cognitions. What looks like an erroneous cognitions, is at most an incomplete one. For instance, mistaking mother-of-pearl for silver means rightly recognising a shining thing on the beach + remembering silver. The latter part is not knowledge, but just because it is memory. Śālikanātha similarly treats the case of jaundice and other perceptual errors.

His conclusion is a minimal definition of knowledge: pramāṇam anubhūtiḥ “knowledge is experience”.

(cross-posted on the Indian Philosophy blog, where you can also read some interesting comments)

Posted on

How to define valid cognition (against Buddhists) if you are Śālikanātha? (Updated)

The beginning of Śālikanātha’s Pramāṇapārāyaṇa is dedicated to a discussion of how to define pramāṇa ‘instrument of valid cognition’. As it was custom since Dignāga’s innovation in the philosophical style, Śālikanātha quotes and refutes several positions.

The first ones are various Buddhist positions. Dharmakīrti’s definition connects the criterion of avisaṃvāditva literally ‘being non-controversial’ but more likely ‘being non-erroneous’ to that of arthakriyā ‘causal efficacy’. Śālikanātha refutes it on the ground of the fact that this does not exclude smṛti ‘memory’, which can also be avisaṃvādin. At this point, various Buddhist voices try to fix this possible flaw in the definition. It is not clear to me how many of them are historically attested and how many are concocted by Śālikanātha as logically possible responses. Some of them claim that smṛti is excluded because it is conceptual (vikalpa), but this is a dangerous move, since Śālikanātha can immediately reply that, based on that, also inference should be refuted, since also inference is conceptual.

A further possibility is to say that smṛti is not pramāṇa because it lacks arthakriyā. But is this really the case? One might say that the object of smṛti is always something past and that it therefore cannot lead you to attain any present object. However, this is also true, in some sense, for anumāna (remember that in the case of anumāna you usually infer the cause from its effect and that inferring the effect from the cause is not a valid anumāna). One might correct the previous point by suggesting that in anumāna the inferential reason is connected to the probandum, which can therefore be said to be attained. However, this, again, holds true also for smṛti, since also in the case of smṛti there is a connection with the object, via mnestic traces (saṃskāra). Why should this be so different from the case of anumāna?

The sequence of voices makes it difficult for one to identify the main speaker and the various uttarapakṣin, but the main thread remains clear, namely:

  • Dharmakīrti’s definition is too broad, since it does not exclude smṛti
  • Other Buddhist attempts to exclude smṛti are futile, since they would end up excluding also anumāna

So, how can smṛti be excluded? Only through the Mīmāṃsā definition of pramāṇa, namely aprāptaprāpaka ‘causing one to understand something which was not known before’.

(cross-posted on the Indian Philosophy Blog, where you can read also some interesting comments)

Posted on

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.

Posted on

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.

Seeing absences through metacognitive feelings or dispositions

Anna Farennikova had claimed that absence must be perceptually known especially because the phenomenology of it shows that we know it immediately, not via a secondary reflection. This is basically Udayana’s point about absence being known via perception because of its being sākṣātkāra ‘making present (its object, namely absence)’. (I thank Jack Beaulieu for having discussed the topic with me).

Beside this main argument, two additional points again the idea that absence is obtained through a secondary reflection (what she calls the cognitive view) by AF are the following:

  • 2. the “phenomenology of absence exhibits resilience to change of belief”. Suppose we find out that the keys are not missing from the table where they should be, it’s just a skilfully devised mirror illusion that makes us think that this is the case (example adapted from Martin and Dokic 2013). We would still perceive their absence. Hence, absence is not a judgement.
  • 3. perceiving absence gives one an adaptive advantage (e.g., in the case of perceiving the absence of predators) and for this purpose it must happen quickly and without intermediation.

3. is, unless I am misunderstanding it, weak. For instance, some people claim they can feel when people are looking at them from behind. Others think that the first ones are not really perceiving other people’s looks, but rather inferring them out of the fact that the person behind them has not been moving for a while, etc. Having such a perceptual capacity would surely be an adaptive advantage, but would we want to claim that it is therefore perceptual?

1+2 are, by contrast, quite strong and any epistemology of absences will need to be able to account for them. (Are they, by the way, also strong arguments against Dharmakīrti’s theory of absences being only inferred? Not really, since Dharmakīrti wants to account for *knowledge*, not for illusory cognitions, like the ones hinted at in 2.)

Anna Farennikova’s work on absence as being perceptually known prompted an answer by Jean-Rémy Martin and Jerôme Dokic. Martin and Dokic agree with Farennikova against the “cognitive view” of the grasping of absences. But, they think that they can counter Farennikova’s claims 1+2 through what they call the “metacognitive view”. They start by saying that the grasping of absence is accompanied by a feeling of surprise, just like every time something unexpected occurs (including an unpredicted element in a sequence, not just its absence). Metacognitive feelings “reflect a specific kind of affective experience caused by subpersonal monitoring of (perceptual) processes” (p. 118).

The idea is really interesting, if only one accepts the existence of metacognitive feelings. Vaidya, Bilimoria and Shaw (2016) introduce further elements in the debate, namely:

  • a. there can be experience of absence even without surprise. Suppose (the example is mine), I tell you “Come to see how my flat looks like now that I sold my grand piano. You come to my flat and grasp the absence of the grand piano, even if you are not surprised by it.
  • b. the absence can be explained through the assumption of dispositions for the cognition of X.

“Seeing absence”

I am reading “Seeing absence” by Anna Farennikova (2013) on the epistemological experience of knowing that something is absent. The article (kindly suggested to me by Jack Beaulieu) deals with exactly the topic dealt with by Mīmāṃsā and Nyāya authors speaking of abhāva (absence) and seemingly in the same terms! (more…)

Francis X. Clooney on comparative theology

At the beginning of Hindu God, Christian God, Francis X. Clooney explains why he wrote that book:

I […] wanted to find a way to say why it is good—and compelling—for beleiving theologians to persist in thinking at that edge where faiths encounter one another. […]
Improbably at first, I decided that thinking—logic, reasoning, and argument—offers us a sturdy bridge for making our way forward in our encounters with faiths and religious ways other than our own. The mind may sometimes hold us back, but quite often it travels ahead of us.