Pawel Odyniec, who is among the foremost experts on Vedānta and on K.C. Bhattacharya, organised a conference that looks extremely thought-provoking on May 22nd–24th. Please read more about the participants (among which Chakravarthi Ram-Prasad, James Madaio, Jessica Frazier, Karl-Stephan Bouthilette…) and the program, and how to register at the link below:
https://konferens.ht.lu.se/spiritual-exercises
Lecturer in Philosophy (including comparative philosophy engaging with more than one tradition)
Lancaster University is hiring a lecturer in philosophy (full time, indefinite position), to start on August the 1st 2023 or as soon as possible thereafter.
The post is “open to all those working in all areas of Philosophy, though we would particularly welcome applicants whose work addresses topics in either (a) feminist philosophy or (b) history of philosophy, including areas of the history of philosophy which consider the contributions of marginalised groups and comparative philosophy that engages with more than one tradition.”
More details: https://hr-jobs.lancs.ac.uk/Vacancy.aspx?id=9897&forced=1
Maṇḍana on sacrificial duties
Maṇḍana’s theory of commands centers around his attempt to reduce them to statements of instrumentality. Commanding to X to do Y would amount to say that Y is the instrument to realise a goal of X. Maṇḍana establishes (in his eyes) this point in the first part of the siddhānta within one of his masterpieces, the Vidhiviveka ‘Discrimination about Commands’. This consists in some verses and a very extended autocommentary thereon. The first part of the Vidhiviveka covers objectors, the second one (the siddhānta) opens with six verses and commentary explaining this view.
However, Maṇḍana then has to harmonize this point with the pre-existing Mīmāṃsā account of duties distinguishing between three sets of sacrifices, namely:
- —nitya karman ‘fixed sacrifice’, to be performed regularly (typically each day), no matter what, but where a performance yathāśakti ‘as much as one can’ is acceptable.
- —naimittika karman ‘occasional sacrifice’, to be performed whenever the occasion arises (e.g., an eclypse or the birth of a son). As in the above case, yathāśakti performance is acceptable.
- -kāmya karman ‘elective sacrifice’, to be performed only if one wants their results and which needs to be performed exactly as prescribed (yathāvidhi or yathānyāya), no relaxing of the norms allowed.
Once a sacrifice has been undertaken, even if it is kāmya, its completion becomes compulsory and the way of such completion remains yathāvidhi in the case of kāmya sacrifices.
How can this difference be kept if all commands are nothing but statements about instrumentality? Would not a statement about instrumentality correspond only to the kāmya category?
Maṇḍana dedicates to this problem the next verses and commentary of his Vidhiviveka, where he examines several possibilities. The main constraints, are, again, keeping the distinction between nitya/naimittika sacrifices on the one hand and kāmya sacrifices on the other hand, as well as the distinction between yathāśakti and yathāvidhi modes of performance. He therefore explores multiple possible understanding of śakti ‘ability’, phala ‘result’ and adhikāra ‘eligibility, especially in conversation with Prābhākara Mīmāṃsā interlocutors insisting on how all sacrifices are compulsory and how the mentions of result found in conjunction with kāmya rituals is only a way to identify the adhikārin ‘eligible person’ for their performance. For instance, which kind of result could make it possible for a command about a nitya karman to lead one to perform the sacrifice every single day? Are there really results that are always desired? And even if such a result could be found, why would one need to keep a distinction in the yathāśakti and yathānyāya performance? If all sacrifices are instruments to realise a certain result, why would some of them need an accurate performance and other not so? The situation is further complicated by the presence of elective sacrifices prescribed to people ‘who desire heaven’ (svargakāma). In which sense are they different from nitya sacrifices, that also lead to heaven?
Unfortunately, the Vidhiviveka is characterised by a terse style, to say the least. Maṇḍana was probably so much into the topic that at times he seems to take important intermediate passages for granted and just leaves the reader wonder. Fortunately, a more generous commentator, Vācaspati, solves most of the doubt and adds further interesting discussions in his Nyāyakaṇikā.
Last, Sanskritists and philosophers of duty have a duty of gratitude to Elliot Stern, who created the first critical edition of the text, including also its previously unpublished commentaries.
Curious to know more? We will discuss chapters 12–14 of the Vidhiviveka in this workshop: https://philosophy.utoronto.ca/event/workshop-maṇḍana-on-ritual-duties/
Individuality in Vaikuṇṭha
Do the inhabitants of Vaikuṇṭha have desires (or only God’s ones)? Veṅkaṭanātha’s Nyāyasiddhāñjana 174–6 seems to suggest that they can will:
In the same way, Ananta and Garuḍa and the other (permanently liberated souls) and the liberated souls assume this or that form based on their will.
(tathā anantagaruḍādīnāṃ muktānāñ ca icchākṛtatattadrūpam).
But their will, is it an individual will or the same will repeated for each of them? Possibly the latter. Let me explain by elaborating on a different topic, namely that of tedium in heaven.
Christopher M. Brown (Brown 2021) suggests that “our experience of boredom in this life is in fact reflective either of the timeboundedness of the goods that are central to human experience in this life […] or the nature of time as we experience it in this life” (p. 420). This is probably true, which tells us that the experience of superhuman beings in heaven is radically incomparable with ours. Can it be nonetheless desirable?
Brown does not address this concern directly, but tries to make examples of goods that could be experienced in heaven and that we can conceive as being goods, thus implicitly suggesting that heaven can be desirable. For instance, he speaks of “the natural human desire for knowledge of creatures is perfected in the greatest way logically possible” (p. 421). But is knowledge desirable per se? Don’t we prefer to gain knowledge? Don’t we enjoy the process of learning and discovering? Thus, the example of knowledge does not make sense as a case of a pleasure human beings can analogically relate to. Rather, it is a case of participating in God’s nature. And happiness in heaven is “excessive” according to Brown, who is here quoting Thomas Aquinas (who, in turn, seems to be pointing to something similar to what Veṅkaṭanātha had in mind). But if this all applies, people in Vaikuṇṭha or heaven are necessarily very different than people on earth (who had specific desires and limited knowledge). In which sense could they be said to retain their “personality”? And if this is not retained, how desirable can heaven be, for us, who are attached to our personalities? Brown addresses this concern indirectly (pp. 424–425) by suggesting that there can be radical changes in one’s personality while retaining one’s numerical identity with oneself (as in the case of Augustine’s conversion or in the case of people surviving a suicidal attempt and desiring to live). Brown then goes on interpreting Thomas as saying that grace does not destroy human nature, but perfects it, preserving personal identity through the transformation. At the end of the process, human beings (who cooperate with the action of grace) in heaven will be a deified nature and deified rational powers of intellect and will. Brown thinks that ordinary human beings can have a foreshadow of this experience through contemplation, that leads to a sort of timeless experience. A further evidence of this possibility is the life of saints, who seem to have experienced this sort of experiences within their earthly life. In other words, if many of us think that heaven (or Vaikuṇṭha) is unappealing, this might mean just that we are unprepared for it. Fortunately, this unpreparedness can be addressed (through a further rebirth or through purgatory). Should not it be possible to continue improving even in Heaven/Vaikuṇṭha? That would surely be an antidote to boredom, but it appears to clash with the idea of heaven/Vaikuṇṭha being a perfect world, a kingdom of ends.
As for Vaikuṇṭha and the risk of getting boring, possible solutions are:
1. Being in nityakaiṅkārya `perpetual service to God’ is your nature and this is intrinsically appeasing, so, there is no way it can ever get boring.
2. You share sābhogya `same experience’ with God, so there is dynamism implied (since you continue having interesting experiences).
Joining this with Brown’s discussion of tedium, the solution to the problem of boredom can consist in any of the following ones:
a. Ability to help others (including God Himself, as in 1. above)
b. Loss of identity (as implied by 2. above)
c. Gradual transformation of identity (as in Brown)
b. and c. are very relevant for us here. Even if people can retain their numerical identity with their lives on earth, are they still qualitatively distinguishable from each other? Are their thoughts distinguishable? Them not having distinguishable thoughts offers a neat explanation of their being perfect devotees and is completely compatible with omniscience. The risk of tedium would be eliminated through the fact that such perfect beings would have no independent desires and thus no independent feelings, including no boredom.
Summing up, one possibility is (with hypothesis b.) that boredom is impossible because there is no one experiencing it (but is it really something one can aspire to? and, more relevant, this cancels the possibility of service, which is clearly a building block of Vaikuṇṭha according to Viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta authors).
A different possibility needs retaining the variety of personalities even among liberated souls: the infinite variety of sensations (as in 1.). Would not they themselves become boring? No, if they are shared with dear people (hence the importance of a community in Vaikuṇṭha) and if one serves (since serving is one’s true destiny and since one is never bored of helping). Hence, again, the importance of a community and hence explained the insistence on other people welcoming one to Vaikuṇṭha. One will oneself soon be part of that group.
CfP: Conference on ineffability
CALL FOR ABSTRACTS
Deadline: 1 February 2023
We invite proposals for papers to be given at an online conference on varieties of ineffability in ancient philosophy (spanning ancient Chinese, Graeco-Roman and Indian thought), on 18th-21st September 2023. The conference is expected to take place in the afternoon (British Summer Time) over the course of the four days.
Confirmed participants:
Lea Cantor (Oxford)
Amber Carpenter (Yale-NUS)
Ursula Coope (Oxford)
Nilanjan Das (Toronto)
Chris Fraser (Toronto)
Dirk Meyer (Oxford)
Adrian Moore (Oxford)
Parimal Patil (Harvard)
Shaul Tor (KCL)
This conference will examine notions of philosophical ineffability in ancient Chinese, Graeco-Roman and Indian texts, dating up to the 9th century CE. By philosophical ineffability we mean the idea that the object of one’s philosophical inquiry, or some aspects of that inquiry itself, are wholly or to some extent beyond the reach of articulation through words. The conference will seek to explore the variety of reasons (sometimes congruent) that might lead a philosopher to adopt some version of an ineffability attitude (e.g. a particular conception of the limits of one’s capacities for knowledge, thought or linguistic expression; a particular ontological stance; secrecy in relation to the uninitiated; a conception of silence as somehow spiritually formative; reverential inhibitions, etc.) as well as the variety of reactions a philosopher might then have in the light of their ineffability attitude (e.g. a qualified or non-committal approach towards the status of one’s own speech; an appeal to metaphors, analogies or periphrasis; some version of the via negativa; silence, etc.). We are interested in how these sorts of motivations and reactions might relate to one another, as well as to wider cultural models on which they sometimes draw. Our aim is not to attempt or approximate comprehensive coverage, nor to offer a survey. Instead, the conference will seek to explore case-studies stemming from the three traditions that, in conjunction, will show something of the variety and richness of the phenomenon of ineffability in ancient philosophy. We welcome both papers that take a fresh look at famous examples and papers that examine cases that are less often discussed. It is hoped that the consideration of a diverse range of ineffability attitudes, as well as the adoption of a comparative, cross-cultural perspective, will throw into sharp relief different patterns of philosophical preoccupations and strategies, and indeed will offer one particular and productive angle from which to think about the scope and orientation of some central aspects of ancient philosophy.
CfA Eligibility & submission guidelines
We invite abstracts of 300-500 words from researchers at all levels (abstracts from graduate students and ECRs are particularly welcome), suitable for 30- to 35-minute presentations.
We welcome abstracts which address the themes of the conference in relation to one or more of the following ancient traditions: Chinese, Graeco-Roman and Indian. Comparative, cross-cultural and/or ‘connected’ approaches are welcome, but not necessary.
Please submit abstracts as an email attachment to ineffabilitiesconference[at]gmail.com by 1 February 2023. Abstracts should be submitted as .pdf files and should not exceed 500 words.
Please write ‘Conference Abstract Submission’ in the subject line of your email and include your name, departmental affiliation (if relevant), email address, and the title of your paper (as well as the year in which your PhD was awarded in the case of ECRs) in your email. Abstracts should be prepared for blind review, so please ensure that your abstract is free from any identifying personal details (i.e. including title and abstract, but no information about author or institutional affiliation).
Decisions will be communicated by 15 February 2023.
Organizers
Lea Cantor (Oxford)
Ursula Coope (Oxford)
Nilanjan Das (Toronto)
Shaul Tor (KCL)
Contact
For more information and updates, please visit our conference website. If you wish to be kept informed about the conference (and how to attend), please register your interest here.
For any inquiries, please contact one of the conference organizers directly.
Solipsism in Sanskrit philosophy: Preliminary thoughts—UPDATED
How do Sanskrit philosophers deal with solipsism?
Some Buddhist epistemologists just accepted it, as a necessary consequence of their idealism. The example of Ratnakīrti’s “Rejection of the existence of other continuous sequences [of causes and effects leading to the illusion of a separate mind]” comes to mind. In my opinion, Ratnakīrti has a specially strong argument in favour of his view, namely: The Buddhist epistemological school denies the ultimate mind-independent existence of external objects. But once one accepts that, and thus accepts idealism, how can one safeguard intersubjectivity? If there is no reality other than our representations, how comes we can understand each other? Would it not be much more economical to imagine that there is only one representation?
Others rejected it based on analogy (basically: I am a mind, i.e., a continuous sequence of causes and effects; other people behaving similarly must be a mind too). The first and main example of this reasoning is Dharmakīrti’s “Establishment of the existence of other continuous sequences” (santānāntarasiddhi).
The Pratyabhijñā and the Advaita Vedānta schools are ultimately forms of solipsism. In the former case, there is only Śiva’s mind, and the appearance of other minds is part of his līlā ‘playful activity’. In the latter (at least after Śaṅkara), there is only brahman, and the appearance of other minds is due to māyā. What is the different explanatory power of līlā vs māyā? That māyā’s ontology is hard to explain, whereas once one has committed to the existence of a personal God, with Their likes and dislikes, then līlā is a perfectly acceptable solution. Thus, AV is light on the Absolute’s ontology, but implies a leap of faith as for māyā, whereas the opposite is the case for the Pratyabhijñā school.
What about the realist schools? Some of them established the existence of the self based on aham-pratyaya, i.e., our own perception of ourselves as an ‘I’ (so the Mīmāṃsā school). Some thinkers within Nyāya (like Jayanta) used inference to establish the existence of the self.
Is this enough to establish the existence of other selves?
Yes, in the case of Mīmāṃsā, because other minds seem prima facie to exist and due to svataḥ prāmāṇya (intrinsic validity) such prima facie view should be held unless and until the opposite is proven.
Yes, according to Jayanta, because other selves can be inferred just like the own self is.
Realistic Vedāntic schools will rely on either the Mīmāṃsā or the Nyāya paradigm. Thus, the question at this point will rather be: What is consciousness like, if one subscribes to this or the other school?
Some schools (like Pratyabhijñā, Yoga…) claim that we can have direct access to other minds, through yogipratyakṣa or intellectual intuition. However, yogipratyakṣa is possible only to some exceptional individuals. Moreover, Pratyabhijñā thinkers like Utpaladeva think that even this is not an evidence of the existence of separate other minds.
Permissions in Dharmaśāstra
Vijñāneśvara’s Mitākṣarā commentary on Yājñvalkya 3 (on expiations), v. 35, explains that even in case of distress a non-Brāhmaṇa cannot take up the profession of a Brāhmaṇa and a Brāhmaṇa cannot take up that of a Śūdra. The commentary on v. 35 also explains that one will need to undergo an expiation ritual (prāyaścitta) because of having undertaken the occupation of another varṇa, once the difficult times are over (see Kumārila’s similar point in text a about expiable permissions). This suggests that
P(taking up the occupation of a kṣatriya or vaiśya varṇa)/being a Brāhmaṇa in distress (and so on for the further varṇas)
is to be understood as an exception to a previous prohibition:
F(perform the occupation of a kṣatriya, vaiśya and śūdra/Brāhmaṇa)
and not of a negative obligation.
It also seems to mean, as Timothy Lubin suggested (Nov 25), that there is no *F(self-harm)/T, since it may happen that taking up the occupation of a Brāhmaṇa would be the only way to avoid dying by starvation, but this still does not lead to a duty to undertake such an occupation.
Moreover, the picture gets more complicated.
In fact, vv. 37–39 explain that
P(taking up the profession of a vaiśya)/(being a Brāhmaṇa in distress)
has some counter-exceptions, namely prohibitions applying to it, e.g.
F(selling weapons)/being a Brāhmaṇa in distress who has taken up the occupation of a vaiśya
Thus, it is possible to have prohibitions within permissions (that are in turn exceptions of other prohibitions)
♦P(x/y) /\ F(z/x)
Then, there is a counter-counter exception, namely:
F(selling/Brāhmaṇa) /\ P(selling/Brāhmaṇa in distress) /\ F(selling sesame/Brāhmaṇa in distress) /\ P (selling sesame in exchange for grain/Brāhmaṇa who can’t perform rites for want of grain).
The commentary quotes Manu 10.91 explaining that if one were to sell sesame in exchange for something else, one would be harshly sanctioned (one will be born again as dog).
v. 41 and commentary explain that the previous permissions are clearly “better not” and that they come with some cost, whereas accepting gifts in case of distress is alright.
So (like in Kumārila, text a above), there are two levels of permissions:
F(selling/Brāhmaṇa)
P1(selling/Brāhmaṇa in distress) —>O(expiation/end of distress) \/ bad karman
P2(accepting gifts/Brāhmaṇa in distress)—>no bad karman
v. 43 (on stealing) follows at that point.
It reads as follows:
bubhukṣitas tryayaṃ sthitvā dhānyam abrāhmaṇād dharet |
pratigṛhya tad ākhyeyam abhiyuktena dharmataḥ ||
“If one has been hungry for three days, he might take some grains from someone who is not a Brāhmaṇa |
If he takes it and is accused, he must say it, according to duty (dharma) ||”
NB: F(stealing)/T is overrun by P(stealing)/not having eaten for three days, provided one is stealing only from a non-Brāhmaṇa (thus presupposing F(stealing from a Brāhmaṇa)/T). The Mitākṣarā commentary
further explains that one can only take enough for one meal and cannot take additional supplies, thus presupposing P(stealing a minimal amount to avoid starvation)/not having eaten for three days.
Now, if one goes on like that for a long time, one might eventually die of starvation (because one is stealing only enough for one meal and only once every three days). v. 44 suggests the solution (the king should take care of one), but this is not a solution one can count on in every case. Hence, v. 43 does not a rule out a situation in which, in order to avoid violating the prohibitions at stake (F(stealing)/T, weakened by P(stealing from a non-Brāhmaṇa/not having eaten for 3 days) and F(stealing from a Brāhmaṇa)/T)) one ends up actually dying.
This further strengthens the point that there is no O(avoid starvation) as the result of F(harm)/T.
The commentary introducing v. 43 states that P(stealing from a non-Brāhmaṇa/distress) only applies to people who have tried all of the above. I am not sure about how to formalise the temporality factor, perhaps something like:
F(selling/Brāhmaṇa)
P1(selling/Brāhmaṇa in distress) /\ distress—>
P1(stealing/Brāhmaṇa in distress)
NB: Kumārila had distinguished between P1 and P2, but by saying that P1 are “general permissions” and P2 specific ones, that is ones explicitly mentioned in text, whereas here P1 can be specifically mentioned and still involve some bad karman.
Appendix: Kumārila, TV ad 1.3.4, text a
[In one case, that of hardship] one does something even without permission, because there is no other way |
[in the other case, that of supererogatory permissions,] one does something else on the strength of a permission: the difference is major ||
And there is a difference between the specific [permission] and the permission (abhyanujñāna) in general (to adopt looser rules in times of hardship) |
[In fact,] the specific [permitted action] is completely free of flaws, the other action has a little (stoka) flaw ||
ekaṃ vināpy anujñānāt kriyate gatyasambhavāt | kriyate ‘nujñayā tv anyad viśeṣaś ca tayor mahāh ||
sāmānyenābhyanujñānād viśeṣaś ca viśiṣyate | viśeṣo ‘tyantanirdoṣaḥ stokadoṣetarakriyā ||
Is the Mitākṣarā just not following Kumārila when it says that even a specific permission can imply bad karman and the need of an expiation? Is Kumārila trying to systematize a complicated series of cases? Or am I missing something altogether?
Growing ambitions: Philosophy of ritual/deontics and philosophy of religion
What I today call philosophy of ritual comprises a complex set of philosophical approaches seeking to solve questions and problems arising in connection with ritual. Different philosophers of ritual aim at reconstructing rituals in a highly structured, rigorous manner, curbing religious metaphors to the strict discipline of their linguistic analysis. As a result, they examine religious texts according to exegetical rules to extract all meaning and intelligibility from them. Another set of philosophical questions connected with rituals concerns duty. How are duties conveyed? How can one avoid contradictions within texts prescribing duties? I started using deontic logic, as initially developed by G.H. von Wright, to formalise contrary-to-duty situations and think about commands, especially thanks to the collaboration with the amazing Agata Ciabattoni and her brave team at the Theory and Logic Group of the TU in Vienna. Ciabattoni had not heard of logic apart from the Euro-American mathematical logic. Before meeting her, I had not heard, let alone worked on intuitionistic logic nor on fuzzy logic. By joining forces, we could explore new formalisations to make sense of seemingly puzzling texts (see mimamsa.logic.at).
Working with people outside one’s comfort zone is demanding, since one cannot assume any shared research background and needs to explain each element of one’s research. However, exactly this deconstructive operation means that one needs to rethink each step analytically, often being able to identify for the first time problems and resources one had overlooked.
For instance, our ongoing work on permissions in ritual is going to highlight the advantages of the Mīmāṃsā approach in denying the interdefinability of the operators of permission, prescription and prohibition and thus avoiding the ambiguity of the former (which in common linguistic use as well as in much Euro-American deontic logic can mean “permitted, but discouraged”, “permitted and encouraged” as well as “permitted and neutral” and in Euro-American deontic logic even “permitted and prescribed”). By contrast, permissions in Mīmāṃsā are always “rather-not” permissions, whereas what is encouraged though not prescribed is rather covered by different operators.
Within the next weeks, I plan to put the finishing touches and submit to a publisher a first book dedicated to deontics and philosophy of ritual not in the Euro-American or Chinese worlds. The book, entitled Maṇḍana on Commands, aims at providing both scholars of philosophy and of deontics in general a comprehensive access to the thought and work of a key (but unacknowledged) deontic thinker and his attempt to reduce commands to statements about the instrumental value of actions against the background of its philosophical alternatives. I plan to continue working on deontics and philosophy of ritual with an intercultural perspective and with cross-disciplinary collaborations.
Within Philosophy of Religion, I aim primarily at using an intercultural perspective to rethink the categories of “god” and the connected category ofatheism”. Scholars who have not thought critically about the topic, might think that there is only one concept of “god” that is discussed within philosophy, and that this is the omnipotent and omniscient Lord of rational theology, whose existence is necessary and independent of anything They created. But this is not the case in European philosophy (especially in the parts of it which have been more influenced by Jewish philosophy) and it is certainly not so outside of European philosophy. For instance, Tamil and Bengali philosophers of religion will think about and worship a personal and relational God, one for whom existence is not intrinsically necessary, but dependent on His (Her) relation to His (Her) devotees. Similarly, looking at Buddhist authors allows one to see how atheism can be constructed in a religious context, namely as the negation of one (or multiple) concept(s) ofgod”, typically focusing on the negation of mythological deities and the contradictions they entail. I plan to submit a project on new ways to conceptualise atheism from an intercultural perspective and to continue working on the concept of a relational God, deriving my inspiration especially from Medieval Viśiṣṭādvaita Vedānta theologians like Veṅkaṭanātha.
Growing ambitions…
More than a decade ago, I wrote that I aspired at “making Indian philosophy part of mainstream philosophy”. I still do, but with more far-reaching goals and an evolved methodology. Let me explain: In the past, I focused on recognized areas of philosophy to which Sanskrit philosophy has contributed in a significant manner. Philosophy of language, one of the main realms of philosophy in the Sanskrit cosmopolis, comes to mind, as does epistemology of testimony. I aimed at showing how both fields would benefit from philosophical contributions coming from outside the Euro-American worlds by expanding philosophers’ understanding and interpretations.
Today, however, my scholarly ambitions go further. Rather than simply broaden extant concepts, I work to help readers rethink the core of what makes “philosophy” by looking at what different traditions consider “philosophical”. For instance, ritual is not generally considered worthy of philosophical investigation, even during a time in which philosophy constantly expands to, e.g. “philosophy of biology” and “philosophy of sex”. However, many Sanskrit, Jewish and Chinese authors have spent thousands of years and of pages to think about rituals as complex systems requiring internal consistency and principled justification.
Accordingly, I strive to convince philosophers and readers of the philosophical value of speculations on ritual and on duty as found in the Mīmāṃsā school of Sanskrit philosophy, in the Talmud hermeneutics or around the concept of li in Confucian philosophy, and to therefore establish “philosophy of ritual”. Similarly, within philosophy of religion, I see my work on various sources as contributing especially to the rethinking of central categories that are taken for granted by the field, such as that of the notion of God as an omnipotent, omniscient, and omnibenevolent being and the notion of “atheism” as equivalent to non-religiosity.
Methodologically speaking, I work on primary texts, predominantly in Sanskrit, but also in Maṇipravāḷam, Tamil and Tibetan, and I believe in looking at their history as key to a philosophical engagement with such texts. Without their historical context, texts risk being misunderstood and “domesticated” into something their readers consider more plausible because they are familiar with it. Examining their history, by contrast, helps me preserving their philosophical originality, even when it may be disruptive. One might object that linguistic and cultural competence cannot be a requirement for philosophical work, since otherwise one would need to master “all languages”, which is impossible. My answer to that is my insistence on collaborations. It is unlikely that my knowledge of Japanese or Bantu will ever be enough to read Japanese or Bantu philosophy, but I will remain open to collaborations working on it. I don’t work on 17th c. Mexican culture, but I can collaborate with scholars working on Juana Inés de la Cruz’ epistemology and we can mutually profit from each other’s work.
The last twenty-six months within the Department of Philosophy at the University of Toronto have made me better aware of the obstacles that prevent many colleagues from using philosophical sources that are not yet “mainstream”, such as the fact that not enough philosophically-informed translations are available, and that not enough work has been done to enucleate the contribution of single philosophers (many colleagues are still under the impression that there were just “schools” of Sanskrit and Chinese philosophy, and that there is a single pre-contemporary Africana philosophy, without individual contributions). I have consequently doubled my efforts as an interpreter of philosophy in both directions.
Ought entails Can (and Prohibited entails Can) for Kumārila (and Śabara)
Within TV ad 1.3.4, (Mimamsadarsana 1929-34, pp. 192–193), Kumārila discusses a seeming deontic conflict and solves it by appealing to the different responsibilities (adhikāra) of the various addressees. He explains that the prescription to learn the Vedas for 48 years does not conflict (virodhābhāva) with the duty to get married and have children, because it addresses people who suffer of disabilities and who therefore cannot become householders. This is a further evidence of how O(x/a) implies that a is actually able to perform x. If a is unable to perform x, the obligation is not incumbent upon them (the background, ableist, assumption is that a blind or lame person cannot support a family.
Kumārila also discusses the prescription to learn the Veda by heart in order to get svarga (heaven/happiness) and explains it would clash against the ones prescribing complicated sacrifices for the same result, since no one would engage in them, if learning the Veda by heart were enough. Here, we see several principles at work:
1. No prescription can remain idle.
2. Translative (?) property of duties: If x implies z and O(x), then O(z). In fact, performing sacrifices \emph{presupposes} learning the Veda by heart, so that O(sacrifices)—>O(learning Veda by heart).
Because of 1., it is clear that the former prescription necessarily only applies to people who cannot perform the latter. Thus: If there are two seemingly contradictory obligations (both aiming at the same result), that is:
(i) O(x/in order to reach s) and
(ii) O (x3/in order to reach s),
then one needs to postulate for the former an additional condition that states something like “Unless you can perform (ii).
As for the converse, namely that prohibitions imply possibility, Śabara (ŚBh ad 1.2.18) explains that the seeming prohibition “The Fire is not to be kindled on the earth, nor in the sky, nor in heaven” cannot be taken as a prohibition, because fire cannot be kindled in the sky nor in heaven.