Suffering That Persists
Issue #2.08 ~ May 30th, 2023
One Year after the Uvalde Shootings; Two Weeks after the End of Title 42
On two separate evenings last week, the PBS NewsHour featured these two heartbreaking reports - the first on the ongoing trauma being suffered by the survivors of last year’s horrific school shooting in Uvalde, Texas; the second on the appalling conditions being endured on the Mexican side of our southern border in the weeks since the Title 42 restrictions were lifted.
Both reports serve as somber reminders of this newsletter’s primary mission - to keep a steadfast focus on the vast amount of suffering that persists day in and day out across the world, in full sight if we just look, yet at the same time out of sight and out of mind as we busy ourselves with the normal struggles and demands of our daily lives.
Both reports also serve as sad examples of the continuing polarization around the respective issues they explore: gun violence and immigration policy.
From the perspective of Buddhism’s ethical teachings, which view every instance of conflict through the lens of “what-could-be-done-to-mitigate-suffering-in-this-situation?”, polarization isn’t even possible. Just by asking the foregoing question, resolutions such as the following arise:
Banning the sale of all assault weapons might at least assuage the grief of those who have lost loved ones to gun violence and would almost certainly ease the fears of those who worry that their loved ones will be the victims of the next mass shooting. Establishing procedures at our borders that facilitate humane treatment of those seeking refuge from the inhumane living conditions in the countries they are fleeing would be a significant first step in relieving the suffering and restoring the dignity of people who have sacrificed everything in the hopes of entering our country.
But unfortunately, not everyone looks at these two contentious issues through the lens of Buddhist ethics. Second amendment “rights” get stirred into the mix in the first case, and xenophobic attitudes get tangled up into the second. In both instances, compassionate action that might relieve suffering comes up against the irrational fear of losing what one already has, as in “They want to take away our guns! or “They want to replace us!” (Refer back to “Aversion to Loss” in TLBR issue #2.07 for more on this.)
And so, polarization persists, and along with it, suffering persists.
“Tread the path with care”
As my 74th birthday draws near, my long-time daily habit of reading the obituary page has become ever more sobering, as ever more frequently I encounter obituaries for individuals my age or younger. This now-almost daily occurrence brings to mind what is purported to be the last statement uttered by the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gotama, as he lay dying surrounded by his followers:
“Things fall apart. Tread the path with care.”
The first sentence scarcely needs elaboration, as it recapitulates one of the fundamental tenets of Buddhism - the impermanence of all things, most especially our frail physical bodies. There’s nothing like reading the obituary page every day for a half century, give or take a few days, to keep that core truth fresh in mind!
It’s the second sentence that invites commentary, given the two distinct ways of reading the phrase “with care”. If we take it as an adverbial clause, the admonition can be interpreted as “Tread carefully on the path” (i.e., the traditional “eightfold path” of wise, ethical, and mindful behaviors that can lead to diminished suffering). But if instead we take it as a prepositional clause, then the appropriate interpretation is more like “As you tread the path, extend care to those you meet along the way”.
Contemporary Buddhist scholars seem to be leaning more and more towards this latter interpretation (see this recent interview with Stephen Batchelor for an in-depth discussion of “the centrality of care” in Buddhist ethics). And this interpretation, focused on caring for others rather than being careful for your own sake, strikes me as the one much better in tune with the other-directed approach of Buddhism, emphasizing as it does the virtues of generosity and compassion.
So, as I read those obituary pages and contemplate how I ought to be spending whatever time I have left before “things fall apart” for me, treading the path by extending care to others seems preferable to merely treading it carefully.
In fact, not just more preferable, but more pleasurable as well!
Interesting reading from the past few weeks:
The Atlantic staff writer Elizabeth Bruenig, writing about the recent killing of Jordan Neely on a New York City subway train, reflected on our increasingly violent society in this commentary … “Many people feel uncomfortable when confronted with someone in an acute crisis. But certain factors can turn an uncomfortable situation into an intolerable one, such as living in a society where anybody could have a gun, where any agitation can boil over into mass murder. An irate neighbor slaying five people with an AR-15-style rifle after a noise complaint in Texas; an unstable Coast Guard veteran killing one and injuring four while attending an appointment with his mother in an Atlanta hospital. The stakes in any given episode of public agitation or distress or even psychosis aren’t typically all that high; the majority of people having crises at any time represent no risk to anyone (save, perhaps, themselves), but the incessant rat-a-tat of bloody headlines makes people feel—viscerally—that the risks they do encounter are unbearably dangerous. In common places, we meet one another with a particular disposition: We try to avoid friction, signal politeness, and keep the flow of society moving. This works well, so long as everyone participates. But we must also be disposed toward people in the world who cannot just get along—because of mental illness, acute emotional distress, or other reasons beyond or within their control—and how ought we meet them? With compassion, perhaps, or with concern, even worry, but tempered with fellow feeling. Fear, however, chases out these finer emotions, and fear is the disposition we’ve grown accustomed to.”
The New Yorker staff writer Susan B. Glasser reminded us once again of the unending stream of lies that spout continuously from the mouth of Donald J. Trump in her commentary on Trump’s shameless performance in the recent shameful CNN town hall … “The disaster that was the CNN ‘town hall’ with Trump in New Hampshire on Wednesday night was both predictable and predicted. None of it was a surprise. The Donald Trump running in the 2024 Presidential election is the same Donald Trump he always was, a purveyor of industrial-strength untruths. A demagogue. A hater. The cheering crowd was the most revealing part of the whole exercise. Trump without the approval of the mob, his mob, would be just another angry old American man, an unwilling Florida retiree shouting at the television after a round of golf. Instead, he still commands his following, which means that he gets to be an angry old man shouting on the television and not merely at it. It certainly was not news that a former President who made more than thirty thousand falsehoods and misleading statements while in office would ceaselessly lie on air. By the time the farce was over, Trump had made false claims about the 2020 election, about supposedly offering the use of ‘ten thousand soldiers’ on January 6th, about creating ‘the greatest economy in history’ and the ‘biggest tax cuts’ ever. He had lied about President Obama taking classified documents when he left office. Among others. No surprise there: a lying liar is going to lie. Trump is nothing if not consistent in that.”
New York Times opinion columnist Jamelle Bouie explored some of the ways that state governments are increasingly posing threats to our individual liberties … “Despite a national mythology that ties the threat of tyranny to the machinations of a distant, central government, the actual threat to American freedom is coming from the states. It is states that have stripped tens of millions of American women of their right to bodily autonomy, with disastrous consequences for their lives and health. It is states that have limited the right to travel freely if it means trying to obtain an abortion. It is states that have begun a crusade against the right to express one’s gender and sexuality, under the pretext of ‘protecting children.’ It is states that are threatening to seize the children of parents who believe their kids need gender-affirming care. And it is states that have begun to renege on the promise of free and fair elections. That it is states, and specifically state legislatures, that are the vanguard of a repressive turn in American life shouldn’t be a surprise. Americans have a long history with various forms of subnational authoritarianism: state and local tyrannies that sustained themselves through exclusion, violence and the political security provided by the federal structure of the American political system. In many respects, the history of American political life is the story of the struggle to unravel those subnational units of oppression and establish a universal and inviolable grant of political and civil rights, backed by the force of the national government.”
Thanks for reading this issue of TLBR. Look for the next one in three weeks, posting on Tuesday, June 20th.