Once again I am tempted to say that these observations strike me as utterly obvious. And yet examples of this kind are often used to familiarize the uninitiated with what might be meant by “loss of self.”
Contrary to what transpersonalists seem to suggest, individualism is not solipsism, the belief that the self can know nothing but its own modifications and that in fact nothing but the self exists. And it is narcissism, not individualism, that inclines one to the attitude that nothing external to one’s skin is worthy of attention—narcissism (in its negative meaning) being a condition of unhealthy and excessive self-absorption arising from a deep-rooted sense of inner deficiency or deprivation.
Creativity does not entail “loss of self”; neither does love. If we sometimes choose to forego the ordinary pleasures of life because of passion for our work, this is an act of self-expression, not an act of self-surrender. And if we sometimes choose to forego our own convenience or pleasure for the person we love, what deadlier insult could we deliver than to declare that we do so selflessly? Love that is not self-expression and self-assertion is a contradiction in terms.
With these observations providing a context, let us look more closely at the transpersonal vision of self-in-the-cosmos.
Both psychoanalysis and behaviorism reflected the premises of nineteenth-century materialism, the view that ultimately all that exists is matter in motion, and long after philosophy and science had repudiated this metaphysics, twentieth-century psychology remained mired in it. The transpersonal movement, rebelling against this materialism, has tended to adopt, as its alternative metaphysics, the belief that ultimate reality consists of “Consciousness” or “Mind.” “According to this universal tradition,” writes Ken Wilber, the most scholarly and articulate spokesman for the transpersonal perspective, “Mind is what there is and all there is, spaceless and therefore infinite, timeless and therefore eternal, outside of which nothing exists.” 94
The goal of our evolution, in this view, is to continue knocking down the ego-generated walls that produce the illusion of separateness from other things and beings in the universe until at last we arrive at a state of consciousness devoid of the experience of separateness, devoid of a sense of personal identity apart from identity with all that exists, identity with (again quoting Wilber) “the Godhead” or the “Ultimate Ground of Being” or the “Suchness of Things.” 91,92,93,94 We deal here with the esoteric core of the (predominant) mystical vision of reality, according to which all things are One. A belief in individuality is thus held to represent a kind of “optical delusion.” *
In a virtuoso effort to integrate Western and Eastern psychologies, Wilber develops a concept that he describes as “the spectrum of consciousness,” which interprets different schools of psychology and therapy as being applicable to different levels of the evolutionary development of consciousness, with the Eastern vision not contradicting the Western so much as completing it, with the individual going through many stages “beyond self-actualization,” toward the last and ultimate state of “unity consciousness” in which all dualisms, including the dualism of self and other, disappear.91 This viewpoint appears to enjoy considerable support among trans-personal psychologists.15
While I am unable to agree with many of Wilber’s conclusions, especially his views concerning “unity consciousness” as I understand them, I feel admiration for the extraordinary feats of integration he has achieved, and I emphatically agree with one of his key points. Paraphrasing Wilber, I would say that we cannot go “beyond self-actualization” until we have achieved it. Wilber finds it necessary to stress this point in his writing, it seems to me, because of a tendency among transpersonalists to renounce eagerly an ego or self they can hardly be said to possess.
Of course it can be argued—and in personal conversations Wilber himself has agreed with me on this issue—that even on the transpersonal perspective we never truly go “beyond self-actualization”; we merely move up to higher levels of self-actualization than are normally discussed in Western psychology. As consciousness continues to evolve in the direction of optimal functioning, letting go of inappropriate attachments and discovering previously unrecognized powers, is it not the self that is evolving and thus actualizing these latent potentialities? Once again, it seems, we encounter the strange glamour associated with the notion of escaping the self.
But let us stay a moment longer with the metaphysical aspect of the transpersonal vision, because ultimately it is metaphysics that underlies their stance on self and ego. Obviously we are not compelled to believe that reality is ultimately constituted by either matter or by consciousness. We can be dualists and maintain that neither matter nor consciousness is reducible to the other. Further, we can maintain that both matter and consciousness are manifestations of an underlying reality that is neither. Many philosophers have pointed out the difficulties in any attempt to reduce matter to mind or mind to matter, and I shall not repeat their arguments here. But if mind and matter are different in every respect, the problem of explaining their interaction—the mind-body problem—appears insuperable. Positing an underlying reality of which both matter and consciousness are manifestations would offer us a way out of this dilemma and provide a solution to a problem that has troubled philosophers for centuries. We might even hypothesize that the “unity consciousness” of which transpersonal psychologists and mystics sometimes speak, the ultimate enlightenment they celebrate, may be the experience of consciousness somehow accessing its source, that ultimate, underlying reality of which it is a manifestation. And the practice of meditation may indeed be the most powerful vehicle for carrying us toward this awareness, just as is often proposed.
But—and here is the point to which inevitably we must return—as long as there is awareness, even at the highest level imaginable, there is self. As long as there is awareness, there is ego. After all our self-concepts have been transcended and all our attachments relinquished, as long as we exist as conscious beings in any sense whatever, and with any view of the ultimate nature of reality, the “I” who is conscious remains—which does not deny that, as the individual evolves to higher and higher stages, the internal experience of “I” is transformed.
Transpersonal psychology has been influenced by Buddhism more than by any other world religions. And among world religions, none of which I have knowledge has been quite so unequivocal in its statements concerning the ultimate unreality of an individual self, soul, or ego. Not that all psychologists of a transpersonal orientation accept this view, but it is sufficiently widespread to be worth pausing on, especially in view of its relevance to the themes that occupy us here.
To quote W. T. Stace in Mysticism and Philosophy:
This doctrine [of anatta, or no-soul] rejects, by means of an argument which is identical with the famous argument of David Hume, the whole concept of a self or soul. It argues that there is nothing in the mind except its empirical contents, and from this premise concludes, as Hume did, that the “I” is nothing but the stream of conscious states.
Stace goes on to observe, a paragraph later, that “to wipe out the pure ego is to wipe out the mystical experience itself” because, once again, we are back to the question of who it is who is having the experience.
The “famous argument” of David Hume appears in his Treatise of Human Nature, in which he wrote: “When I enter most intimately into what I call myself, I always stumble on some particular perception, i.e., some particular mental content or other, of heat or cold, light or shade, love or hatred, pain or pleasure. I never can catch myself at any time without a perception.” From this observation Hume concludes that there is no such thing as a self or ego. The Buddhist version is a little different, of course, in that consciousness is not identified with a stream of sensory perceptions. But both arguments share the idea that what exists is the stream of consciousness and that the concept of an ego or self who is conscious is superfluous and in fact fallacious.
By way of answering this argument, let
me point out that since by ego or self in this ultimate sense we mean consciousness as it exists within an individual organism, it would be extraordinary—in fact inconceivable—for consciousness to be able to perceive itself. If consciousness is by nature an organ of perception, it is necessarily directed outward, to some extent, much as our eyes are directed outward and cannot, without a mirror, see themselves.
An interesting aside on the Buddhist position is that most Buddhists believe in reincarnation, as do many transpersonal psychologists—in other words, the transmigration of a soul that does not exist in the first place. No one has ever succeeded in explaining how we can reconcile a belief in the unreality of ego or self with a belief in reincarnation.
In chapter one I mentioned soliciting from a wide variety of psychologists the criteria by which they judged self-esteem. A number of transpersonalists responded by asking, in effect, “Why bother with this issue when the self is only an illusion, anyway? The goal is not self-esteem but self-transcendence.” So there is still more to be said about the effort to deny the reality of self.
Since we are all One, the argument goes, individuality is an illusion—necessary, perhaps, in the early stages of our development, but ultimately to be outgrown if we are to reach our optimal potential.15
If the belief that I exist as a separate entity is an illusion, surely it is my illusion, which means that in some form I exist. Even if we wanted to argue that I am only an illusion in someone else’s consciousness, then that someone else would exist, and we would enter here into an infinite regress. And if it be argued that all that ultimately exists is cosmic consciousness—then we are led to argue that cosmic consciousness (or God or whatever) is confused about its own nature, is not perceiving reality clearly, is beset by illusions. When we are ready to declare that the Suchness of Things is deluded in its perception of reality, surely it is plain that we have collapsed into logical incoherence. This, I submit, is the dead end of every attempt to deny the reality of separate selves.
None of these criticisms denies the value of researching possible higher states of consciousness above those we in the Western world have regarded as normal or even optimal. The fact is, most people do have to emancipate themselves from overly restrictive views of who and what they are; most people do need to learn not to identify self with everyday attachments, belief systems, and so on; most people need to discover and experience their relationship to everything else that exists in the universe—and I do not doubt that transpersonal psychology can contribute to the realization of these ends. But what the field urgently requires is a vast improvement in its level of intellectual precision and clarity.
I must say, in all fairness, that transpersonal psychologists with whom I have discussed these matters tend to agree; indeed, they have tended to be very receptive to the criticisms I am making; they feel themselves groping toward a vision that they readily admit they do not always know how to articulate. But what makes many of their antiself, antiego utterances irresponsible, in my view, is the fact that they are writing during a century when the most appalling atrocities in history have been perpetrated by totalitarian regimes that were and are vociferous in declaring that the individual is nothing, that a good citizen must rise above the petty concerns of ego, and so on and on and on. Politically, the voice of the antiself is the voice of death. This is not a fact they can pass over lightly simply by declaring, “Oh, but that’s not what we mean.” Every philosophical or psychological statement exists in a context, and in the world of today no one has the right to be oblivious to the context in which he or she speaks. I believe transpersonal psychologists have a moral and intellectual obligation to acknowledge our present-day context and to make their position unequivocally differentiated from those for whom the denunciation of the individual and individualism is clearly tied to a lust for power.
Not only has this not been done, but one of the central tenets of the transpersonal perspective is that a separate sense of self, even though it is only an illusion, is somehow the root of all evil.
Ken Wilber eloquently expresses this viewpoint:
And mankind will never, but never, give up this type of murderous aggression, war, oppression and repression, attachment and exploitation, until men and women give up that property called personality. Until, that is, they awaken to the transpersonal. Until that time, guilt, murder, property, and persons will always remain synonymous.94
As soon as we establish a boundary, he argues, we create the possibility of an adversary relationship. The self can go to war only with that which it regards as the not-self. When and if, therefore, our sense of self or our sense of identity expands to include everything that exists, when I finally realize that I and everything else are One, all possibility of cruelty or hostility ceases.92 This is one of the classic viewpoints in Eastern mystical literature.*
Now I do not believe for a moment that Wilber intends the social implications that would be intended by a political totalitarian who made a statement such as his. I do not suspect Wilber was even thinking in political terms. But his statement is indeed ominous when placed against the social and political events of this century. I must add that, on the basis of personal discussions, I have reason to believe Wilber would agree.
Perhaps the following quotation from Arthur Koestler in Janus will help to clarify my perspective:
Throughout human history, the ravages caused by excesses of individual self-assertion are quantitatively negligible compared to the number slain ad majorem gloriam out of a self-transcending devotion to a flag, a leader, a religious faith or political conviction. Man has always been prepared not only to kill, but also to die for good, bad, or completely hare-brained causes. What can be a more valid proof for the reality of the urge toward self-transcendence?*
Not self, but the absence of self, is closer to being the root of all evil. Self-alienation impoverishes our capacity for empathy; and in dehumanizing ourselves, we inevitably dehumanize others. In failing to develop an independent and strong ego, to evolve to moral sovereignty, we become capable of unspeakable atrocities, since we do not experience ourselves as responsible for our actions. Interestingly enough, Wilber himself writes:
In fact, at this point in history, the most radical, pervasive, and earth-shaking transformation would occur simply if everybody truly evolved to a mature, rational, and responsible ego, capable of freely participating in the open exchange of mutual self-esteem. There is the “edge of history.” There would be a real New Age.94
Wilber is a transpersonalist with a profound respect for individuality and personal dignity. But I believe that he and other transpersonal psychologists will at some point have to address themselves to the foregoing criticisms and observations.
Now let us consider, finally, one last assault on self and ego as it is found in the transpersonalist approach to ethics.
More and more psychologists sympathetic to the transpersonal orientation are raising the banner of “selfless service” as their professed moral ideal and as the natural extension of their psychological and philosophical perspective.88
To quote from John Levy’s article “Transpersonal and Jungian Psychology”:
Transpersonal psychologists tend to see service in the world as absolutely essential and central to the kinds of living and being they pursue and advocate.… As trans-personal awakening begins, motivations inevitably shift from the egocentric toward the desire to serve others. This kind of service is seen as absolutely necessary if the awakening and development are to continue; transpersonal growth requires a life of service.
Why?
The answer is not given in terms with which we are familiar from our discussion concerning altruism. Certainly neither society nor humanity nor the state are in any sense perceived as objects of worship. True, many of this orientation who advocate selfless service see the world as a place of great suffering and see compassion as a virtue of supreme importance, but that per se does not make a life of service a requirement. We need not
debate the virtue of compassion, since that is not the point. So far as I am able to understand this position, there seem to be two reasons offered in defense of selfless service as a moral ideal.
The first is quite simply the assertion that at a certain level of evolution—some might say mystical insight—it becomes self-evident that one should practice selfless service. The second, and in a way the more interesting argument (the first is not really an argument), is the statement that the value of selfless service lies not so much in the help given to the beneficiaries as in liberation from ego on the part of the one who serves. In other words, a life of service facilitates self-transcendence. In secular terms, of course, this is dangerously close to an egoistic justification—although not one that will bear careful scrutiny.
Anyone who chooses to express him- or herself through some kind of productive endeavor cannot help but make a contribution to the world. That is very different, however, from the viewpoint that we are here on earth to serve. And transpersonal psychologists are not insensitive to this difference. One of them protested to me, “But in placing your emphasis on creative self-expression and the joy of productive work, you are back with ego again. In putting the emphasis on contribution and on service, we get people away from themselves.” Precisely.
Of course, what a life of selfless service means is far from obvious. Does it mean that we simply ask other people what they want us to do and proceed to do it? Does it mean that we decide what is best for other human beings and impose our vision on them?
And then there is another problem: If people accept our selfless service, are they not being selfish?
Alas, in whichever direction we look, from old-fashioned religion to avant-garde psychology, self and ego appear to have few champions. The lone individual remains the most undefended and uncared for minority on earth. For many people it seems far easier to feel care and compassion for “the planet” than for a single human being.
Honoring the Self Page 28
