Kant, Buddhism and the

Moral Metaphysics of Medicine

Antonio Palomo-Lamarca, University of Minnesota

and

Prof. Stephen Palmquist, D.Phil. (Oxon)

Department of Religion and Philosophy

Hong Kong Baptist University

(stevepq@hkbu.edu.hk)

Abstract

            This paper examines Kant's moral theory and compares it with certain key aspects of oriental (especially Buddhist) moral philosophy. In both cases, we focus on the suggestion that there may be a connection between a person's physical health and moral state. Special attention is paid to the nature of pain, illness, and personal happiness and to their mutual interrelationships.

 

            A frequently ignored feature of Kant's approach to morality is his preoccupation with health, and his attempt to interpret it in terms of the moral law. An obvious antithesis of the health-moral imperative would be an illness-pathological imperative; we will regard both as forms imposed on our experience by the human mind. We demonstrate that the Kantian path to understanding the "moral metaphysics of medicine" can be supported by Tibetan medicine and Buddhist ethics.

 

            What Buddhism understands as moral law, or "Sila", corresponds directly to Kant's theory. In both cases, health is the supreme judge that demonstrates whether or not our moral state is justifiable. Our principal intention is to show that, through the power of mind, a person’s moral state can--and in fact does--influence the body, having as its expression either health or illness. By considering the relevance of the Kantian interpretation of morality to medicine, we regard proper attention to the former as the surest path to the goal of maintaining personal health.

 


 

 

"Every man his own doctor, every man his own lawyer,

every man his own priest--that was the ideal of Kant."[1]

 

I. Kant and the Problem of Health

 

            Can there be a Kantian philosophy of health? At first sight an insurmountable obstacle would seem to prevent even the most sympathetic interpreter from developing such a theory. The problem is that physical health, as a species of what we might call "personal well-being", is usually assumed to be closely correlated to a person’s happiness. And for Kant happiness, as is well known, stems from a person’s inclinations, which are heteronomous in nature and so should not be taken into consideration when determining the moral status of any given action. For Kant, right and wrong must be determined purely on the basis of the moral law, without taking matters of personal happiness (and by extension, one’s own physical health) into consideration. By giving practical (goodness-producing) reason primacy over theoretical (happiness-producing) reason, Kant appears to be sidelining issues of health and happiness, if not banishing them from philosophy altogether. In this paper we shall attempt to resolve this problem, by demonstrating that both happiness and health have a crucial role to play in Kant’s moral philosophy.

 

            The first step is to question the common assumption that happiness is nothing but a relative feeling. This view is supported by a huge amount of anthropological research showing that what one culture condones as acceptable behavior, behavior worthy of producing happiness, another culture decries as blameworthy. For example, most western cultures tend to associate felicity with gaining money and power, whereas many traditional eastern cultures, such as the Tibetans, tie it more closely to poverty and humility. Nevertheless, for Kant, as for Buddha, there must be at least an element of happiness that is universal, because happiness is eventually brought back into his moral system as an equal constituent, with virtue, of the highest good. That is, even though Kant excludes happiness (in the sense of inclinations) from the issue of how to make a moral decision, he fully recognizes its importance when dealing with the issue of what it means to live a "good life". And as we shall see, this can be extended to the issue of health as well. Indeed, we shall use Kant himself as our primary example of someone who sought to maintain personal health and well-being by living a "good life"--i.e., by fulfilling the moral law.

 

            A question that has vexed readers from Kant’s day until now has been: What is this "moral law"? The standard answers have been so complex and uninspiring that newcomers often find it difficult if not impossible to grasp the hard meaning of such a law. The perspective adopted in this article will be that Kantian ethics is related more to our own self-understanding than to our environment. The moral law is a law I make for myself and apply to myself. As it happens, this is also the first step in the teaching of Buddhist morality. The first being I hurt with my unhealthy behavior is not the other(s) to whom my action is directed, but my own self. The morality of my behavior is related to the "other" only at a secondary level. The priority of this "toward-myself" is what has all too often been misunderstood by interpreters of Kant. Indeed, we are not aware of any significant previous research on a Kantian approach to health and illness, even though this is a pivotal concern for Kant’s own understanding of philosophical practice.

 

            To Kant, morality is the key to genuine happiness. That is, if we seek happiness through the immediate fulfilling of our inclinations, then we are bound to lose the very thing we seek. This is the sure path to an unhealthy life. It may be obvious that for Kant genuine happiness does not refer merely to satisfying one’s own desires; but what may not be so obvious is that it is also not obtained merely by obeying the moral law just for the sake of being legally "good". The deepest and somewhat esoteric sense in which Kant’s moral law is bound up with human happiness is directly related to the issue of health. Never, before Kant, had a western philosopher connected health and illness so closely to ethical issues.

 

            The proof of this bold claim begins with the observation that Kant explains the possibility of happiness in terms of the possibility of the senses. As biological beings, we are inextricably bound to our bodies and to the feelings they generate. We act and indeed we even think much of the time on the basis of what we feel. On the perspectival interpretation of Kant, this is expressed by saying that the third Critique, the Critique of Judgment as it arises out of the faculty of pleasure and displeasure (i.e., the feelings), is the standpoint of critique itself.[2] Moreover, in the first Critique thought is a slave of senses, in the sense that concepts arise out of synthesized intuitions, and senses are slaves of experience, since "intellectual intuition" is not possible.[3] Yet Kant says that in another sense, will has primacy over thinking; and will can therefore impede our thinking from reaching accurate conclusions.To prevent this from happening, thought must first of all be subjected to critique, and from this perspective, thought is regarded as pure reason.

 

            To take pure reason in this way is to regard it as a "tool" that helps us control and regulate our will. This will must take the form of a pure will in order for us to fulfill the moral law. Pure reason as a "tool" is reason in its criticized and purified form. The next step, therefore, is to use it for a moral purpose. This can be a practical means to an end, for practical reason in essence is the pure will. Thus, in Kant’s System pure reason transforms itself into a practical end, and this "practicality" becomes a reality when it is manifested as pure will. Pure reason, then, has to reflect upon itself and its relationship with the external world. I gain insight into this external world only through my will, which obviously is not yet pure in this application. It becomes pure only as I begin to grasp the ultimate essence of reality through reflection on my moral nature. The irony is that, although Kant refers to such an application of pure reason as "practical", reason without such a practical grounding in morality would give rise to a dull and unrealistic system. Indeed, the only proper application for pure reason is practical.

 

II. Health and Meditation: Theology and Revelation in Perspective

 

            If morality is guided by practical reason, then it must tend toward an end; but this paper’s thesis is that Kant’s theory of happiness is not merely teleological in its orientation, but theological.[4] Moreover, as we shall see, Buddha does the same with his philosophical system: he encourages us to see our world and its environment as a sacred end, this sacredness being what makes it a theological path. (To Buddha there is nothing more sacred than a simple life, whatever its forms or spiritual level.) The theological orientation of Kant’s moral theory is particularly evident in its stress on love and respect for other beings.[5] This is theological because it points us to the sacred: the "sacrament" here being the moral law, which is found inside each person.

 

            The next step is to try to answer the question: is this moral law found inside of me due to revelation, or due to meditation? Our contention, like Kant’s, is that it can be reached in both ways. Likewise, one of the main milestones on the Buddhist path is to reach the supreme truth through a method called "analytical meditation", which is a point reached through the use of a pure reason, not requiring a special revelation. Our claim is that revelation can only be understood once reason has been purified, and this can only be done when one has understood the proper role of the senses, through transcendental Critique. At first sight, it may seem that Kant focused more on the moral law than on God. In his moral theory as such, that is of course true. But, this is not the point. The crux of our argument is that in Kantian ethics the sacredness of life is the respect for other beings. And this naturally directs us--as well as Kant himself--down a theological path.

 

            The "home" toward which this path leads us is nothing other than happiness! Here "happiness" refers not to the first type of happiness discussed in Kant’s moral theory, the fulfilment of one’s own inclinations, but rather to the second type, happiness that must follow upon virtue in order for the highest good to be achieved. In other words, the Kantian goal is reached not by seeking after one’s own wellness, but by attending first to the wellness of others. Oddly, this result (i.e., happiness) still boils down to a bunch of feelings and sensations, which come from the physiological masterpiece of the brain and sense organs. Sensations and feelings conducted through neural vibrations give to human (and all animal) beings the possibility of neurobiological life. (We could perhaps refer to this more accurately as "neurochemical", since those vibrations can be regarded as a manifestation of "pure" chemistry.) This makes human beings dependent, to some extent, on their emotions and physiology. Feelings or emotions are, from one perspective, an ensemble of bio-molecules interacting with our nervous system.

 

            Emphasizing the bio-chemical roots of all happiness and sadness need not be problematic from a Kantian standpoint. As Wike states: "Kant explains that human beings desire happiness because their nature is such that they are dependent on circumstances of sensibility."[6] Kant would therefore welcome this way of understanding such biological feelings, for it goes hand in hand with his idiosyncratic approach to overcoming certain negative emotions and health problems. But this raises a more philosophical question: Does the bio-chemical root of our emotions leave any room for spirit (Geist)? The answer, if Kant is to be our guide, must be: yes. But how is this possible?

 

            The answer can be found by recalling that, although human beings are undeniably dependent on "physical happiness", as manifested in our biological needs, this dependency is directed by what Kant calls our "inclinations". For "when these inclinations are satisfied, when the person has a pleasant life, the person is happy".[7] This is the philosophical basis for the point mentioned at the outset, regarding the relativistic nature of happiness. For without yet entering into the realm of moral law, we can regard this as a relative feeling (see note 6). Happiness as fulfilment of inclinations is obviously relative from culture to culture, or even from person to person.Nevertheless, happiness as an outcome of virtue is universal in its character, provided it appears as an end and a "product" of our moral law, as Buddha and Kant both understood it. This distinction holds the key to understanding when a person is most susceptible to illness. The initial susceptibility comes from our mind, since we are spiritual beings endowed with flesh. That is, when our mind becomes susceptible to the inclinations, it acts upon the body and its organs, giving rise to a potentially unhealthy physical state. But when our mind gives first priority to virtue, it predisposes the body toward health.

 

            As mentioned above, Buddhism already has a well-formed theory of the psychosomatic relationship between the mind and body. When this relationship is pure, it is called awareness, but when it is pathological (which it is for most people most of the time), it becomes a deceiver of our analytical meditation. By meditating on my body, however, I can gain control over it through increased awareness. This has a striking similarity to the purpose of controlling the morbid feelings that Kant talks about in The Conflict of the Faculties, especially in his example concerning the problem he experienced with his chest:

 

I myself have a natural disposition to hypochondria because of my flat and narrow chest, which leaves little room for the movement of the heart and lungs; and in my earlier years this disposition made me almost weary of life. But by reflecting that, if the cause of this oppression of the heart was purely mechanical, nothing could be done about it, I soon came to pay no attention to it. The result was that, while I felt the oppression in my chest, a calm and cheerful state prevailed in my mind, which did not fail to communicate itself to society, not by intermittent whims (as is usual with hypochondriacs), but purposely and naturally. And since our joie de vivre depends more on what we freely do with life [i.e., on morality and pure will] than on what we enjoy as a gift from it [i.e., on fulfilment of inclinations], mental work can set together another kind of heightened vital feeling against the limitations that affect the body alone. The oppression has remained with me, for its cause lies in my physical constitution. But I have mastered its influence on my thoughts and actions by diverting my attention from this feeling, as if it had nothing to do with me."[8]

 

            This variability of the concept of happiness is actually correlated to bio-chemical differences. For one person can be happy with just a simple, humble life, whereas others would be forever dissatisfied with such a state. Likewise, one person can be happy while being tortured in prison, while others in the same circumstances would suffer miserably. Moreover, many rich people are not happy; this may be because they suppose happiness consists solely in "power". They would then feel empty and vain as a result of lacking power. We human beings, though supposing ourselves to be guided by "reason", seem to have a resistance to facing pain. Thus, even though our sensations are culturally relative, there seems to be a built-in potential in all of us to overcome such relative conditions of happiness through an awareness of our moral nature.

 

            In short, Kant regards happiness as a basic goal of human beings, with its deepest expression being bound up with the moral law. The relationship between morality and health is precisely that both are pillars of felicity. A person with a high level of concern for fulfilling the moral law is likely to be not only happy, but also healthy. To fulfill the moral law is to make oneself predisposed against illness. This is not so easy, because the moral law is an a priori law; consequently, it transcends the ordinary empirical world. Kant believed in two worlds: the physical world, or ectypal world as he called it, and the ideal or archetypical world.[9]The latter is the home of everything a priori, including the moral law itself. Indeed, the archetypical world, as Kant remarks, is where the answers to every genuine philosophical problem are to be sought, where people can analyze the limits of reason and expose its illusory application. Thus, Kant reaches the conclusion that the physical world can be apprehended only through time and space--time, as well as space, because mental projections must be dissected or analyzed in order for us to grasp the significance of the human mind.

 

            Now the question is, if the moral law belongs to the "a priori system", and so to the archetypical world, how can it be practical? Or, to express the same question from the opposite perspective: how can we apply praxis to the ideal world? In answering this question, we shall turn to a more detailed look at Buddhism.

 

III. Buddhism and the Practice of the Moral Law

 

            In Buddhism the problem of happiness is quite simple: every living being wants to be happy and to avoid suffering, and our happiness is what determines our lives. But, this happiness has to be sought very sincerely in order for our goals to be satisfactory--especially our moral goals. These moral goals are essentially for the benefit of other sentient beings. Buddhists are always careful not to hurt either the feelings or bodies of other beings. This constitutes a person’s moral path. Along these lines, a Buddha once remarked that we have to be ruthlessly honest with ourselves and to question our own goalsand motives. A proper motive, in the Buddhist sense, must be humble, not selfish: our motives should work for the sake of other beings. Living in this way need not require an appeal to revealed truths as its basis. Thus the Dalai Lama asks

 

whether it is possible to formulate an ethical system without having to make any appeal to religious principles. Without accepting God or any mysterious forces, without accepting previous lives or karma, simply on the basis of the present life, is it possible to make some demarcation between virtue and non virtue, or to distinguish right from wrong?[10]

 

The Buddhist can answer this question in terms of "felicity", provided this refers to a form of happiness based on virtue. For Buddha, as well as for Kant, religion and happiness must be intimately connected with a moral disposition as their universal basis. To be happy in this sense has little if anything to do with acquiring more and more material things, but involves constructing our inner "building" with the simple "bricks" of moral actions.

 

            In Buddhism all we do or say, as well as all we think, should be considered from a practical standpoint. Thought itself has a practicaldimension, and the possibility of practice is what makes us moral beings. Whatever we think should be applicable to our daily life. If what we think is good or bad, its applicability will also be good or bad, respectively. Everything depends on our actions and on the appropriateness of our thought to potential actions. For the Buddhist, therefore, as for the Kantian, reason is fundamentally practical and human beings are fundamentally moral beings with moral actions. These actions have repercussions for our stream of actions (i.e., our karma), and can have a positive or a negative influence on it. In this way, our karma influences our health. As Yeshi Donden points out, illnesses such as cancer originate in part because of an accumulation of bad karma. For example, he concludes his description of types of cancer by referring to "cancers that have their origin in a negative action committed in a previous lifetime," adding that "this final type of cancer cannot be cured by any physician."[11]

 

            That this can apply even to a normal illness with a well accepted physical cause can be shown by the following illustration. If we have a feeling of hatred for somebody, that feeling can cause us to quarrel with that person, and the quarrel can in turn affect us either economically or physically. In the first case, if the person is an important person with respect to our future, she or he could (for example) fire us or keep us away from a good project. In the second case, the quarrel could affect our mental state, and through it, our physical health. Yet--and this is the more important part--in Buddhism the first case is more substantial: one must not be nice with others just for the sake of keeping a job, or for keeping a friendship that benefits oneself, but just for the sake of the moral law! This is called sila, that is, a performance of virtuous actions that will affect our spirit and future actions, as well as our life.

 

            This example plainly shows how Kantian ethics is very close, if not the same, as Buddhist ethics. If we are not happy, it is due to our unwholesome actions, and this is because of our ignorance, our hatred, our greed, etc. But the solution to this problem is to cultivate morality, and this morality is proportional to our searching for wisdom. To be deeply moral is to be a sage. Wisdom and morality are ultimately united. The Buddhist-ethical practice is called Dharma, which refers to the path of the disciples of Buddha. If we are honest with ourselves and follow the Dharma, then we will be happy, and we will live in a constant state of wellness.

 

            In Buddhism the moral law is so thoroughly practical that there is no room left for purely theoretical thought. It is nonsense to think about things that cannot be practical or useful for our karma. Nevertheless, we must clarify that people should not do certain actions just for the sake of securing a good future, but should do them only out of an awareness that any virtuous person must act in that way, to wit, for the sake of the moral law: indeed, our actions must be a means and an end at the same time. This "for the sake of the moral law" is not merely a legalistic "obligation" that has nothing whatsoever to do with one’s appetites. The Buddhist acts out of an awareness of how his or her karma is being affected by the action(s) in question. This is called mindfulnesswhen directed to thought and actions and awareness when directed to the physical state of a person’s own body.

 

            The concept of mindfulness is implicit in Kant as well. Kant talks about obligations as benefiting others, in the sense of doing to others what we would like to be done to us.[12] This is not an external form of legalistic obligation, but an internal form of mindfulness. To act in this way, one must overcome emotions, which is to a large extent why Kant is sometimes portrayed as a "cold" person promoting a "rigid", "formalistic" approach to morality. Yet a proper appreciation of Kantian obligation as a form of mindfulness reveals that Kant is not the "Mr. Scrooge" of philosophy after all![13] This is rather a label that a certain brand of outmoded interpreters have projected onto him--similar to the belief some interpreters of Nietzsche once put forward, that portrayed him as a Nazi philosopher, just because some Nazis used him in their service.Such interpretations reveal little more than how difficult it can be to grasp those philosophers’ true intentions.

 

IV. Toward a Kantian‑Buddhist Theory of the Emotions.

 

            Having asserted the close connection between Kantian happiness and the moral law, and having emphasized the internal focus of the latter by connecting it with the Buddhist concept of mindfulness, let us now proceed to examine Kant’s concept of emotion. For Kant, emotion is an affection, that is, a physiological stream in our souls. As in Buddhism, Kant regards the emotions as potential hindrances to following the moral law. In the Buddhist path, the hindering function of the certain emotions is explained by regarding them as attachments to worldly (i.e. "apparent") things. Bad emotions should be overcome, while good ones should be used to benefit others. This "should be used" must be regarded not as a means, but as an end. The first kind of emotions can hurt us and give rise to an imbalance in our health, while the second can improve our well-being and strengthen our resolve to fulfill the moral law: "These afflictive emotions impel actions (karma) that establish potencies in the mind, ripening later as specific diseases."[14]

 

            Kant scrutinizes emotions with the exactitude of a Buddhist initiate: he tries to avoid those emotions that could impede the moral life. This moral life must be based on the maxim "do to others what you desire to be done to yourself." This is a far cry from selfishness, but encourages a humanistic and philanthropic position instead. Thus to Kant, one of the main purposes of morality is to work toward the happiness of others as ends-in-themselves; that is to say, humanity is never to be regarded merely as a means, but always as an end. This is the same kind of statement we might expect a Buddhist to make. In the Buddhist theory of morality, human beings as well as animals and plants, are treated as ends-in-themselves; they are not means through which I reach my desires. Desires are said to be rooted in human ignorance and attachment to non-eternal things, and to interrupt our moral goals and impede our quest for ultimate knowledge. With suitable qualifications regarding the inevitable limitations of such a quest, this is essentially the same as the Kantian doctrine. Perhaps Kant’s interest in the study of chemistry and medicine was motivated by the hope of finding an explanation for the emotions and their relationship to illness through morality. Along these lines, Stuckenberg says Kant "studiously investigated the means of preserving health and diligently practised the art of prolonging life."[15] Furthermore, "Kant made frequent experiments with his body, and in the course of time gained such control over it as to make it the obedient instrument of his mind"[16] As we have seen in sections I and II, such control over the body by the mind is only possible using the will, and in particular, the pure will. Indeed, Kant uses his pure will in order to gain control not only of the functions of his body in general, but also of the affections and emotions in particular: "His [Kant’s] power of abstraction was of great service to him in mastering his sickly feelings."[17]

 

            Emotions, in a certain sense, are a negative force drawing us away from the moral law. Here it may seem dangerous to think about emotions as a positive stream of feelings, such a love. But this would be misplaced caution. The way Kant understands emotions is first of all in their negative and corrosive sense. Negative emotions such a hatred are considered in Buddhism to be the greatest hindrance to mindfulness that the beginner must overcome. This concern is looked at thoughtfully as essential in the path of the warrior--especially the warrior of the moral law, the boddhisatva.[18] Those negative passions are the bad spirits or monsters that the boddhisatva has to fight with the power of his/her pure will under the tool of the mind. The path is dangerous and painful to follow, but its fruit will be great and very tasteful. For it must be necessary to pursue rules that can help us prevail over the monsters of reason. Thus, as we have seen, Kant "applied his moral rules to himself, both for the formation of his character and for the government of his life ... thought was to him the essence of life ... when the theory was found, its practical application was for Kant a matter of course."[19]

 

            Consequently, as in Buddhism so also for Kant, everything must point toward a practical purpose in order to be meaningful: an exclusively theoretical use is per se, a non-use. In Buddhism praxis is the core of the teachings. Anything found in the path of enlightenment should be practical, since Buddha himself was a thoroughly practical person. Buddha said we need to take things not because he says so, but because we experience them in our life, and therefore they have a practical and meaningful sense for us.

 

The Buddha further classified questions into meaningful and meaningless and stated the principle of verification as the criterion of meaning. If a person says that "I am building a staircase to climb up to a mansion" but fails to show where the mansion is, or if he cannot show how the existence of the mansion can be verified through experience, then his statement becomes meaningless. Thus the Buddha’s epistemological approach was empirical and anti-metaphysical.[20]

 

            Much the same could be said for the core of Kant’s moral philosophy. Moreover, the path against those negative emotions must be taken just as a tool in our travel across the land of morality. The end is to arrive at a peak called Nirvana, but meanwhile we will stop on lower peaks that are going to announce to us the existence of that higher realm of existence. Those little stops are what Zen Buddhism considers as satori, a flash of insight in our mind that tells us we are on the right path, the path of the boddhisatva. Satori will tell us its secrets without telling us anything; satori shouts in the mystery of silence with the voice of stillness. When we hear this voice, we will experience the self-awareness Kant describes when he says:

 

I have purified my soul from all prejudices; I have destroyed every blind devotion which ever crept into my mind for the purpose of creating in me much imaginary knowledge. Now I esteem nothing as of consequence or worthy of respect except what honestly takes its place in a mind which is calm and accessible to all evidences, whether confirmative or destructive of my former opinions. Wherever I find anything that instructs me, I accept it. The verdict of the man who refutes my arguments is my verdict after I have weighed it against self-love and my reasons, and then have found its evidence the stronger. Formerly, I viewed the common human understanding only from the standpoint of my own; now I put myself in the place of a reason foreign to me and outside of me, and view my opinions, together with their most secret occasions, from the standpoint of others.[21]

 

 


 

FOOTNOTES

 



[1]William Wallace, Kant (Edinburgh: William Blackwood and Sons, 1901), p.47.

[2]This point is defended in Stephen Palmquist, Kant’s System of Perspectives: An architectonic interpretation of the Critical philosophy (Lanham: University Press of America, 1993), pp.355-6.

[3]See e.g., Immanuel Kant, Critique of Pure Reason, tr. Norman Kemp Smith (London: Macmillan, 1929), pp.268-72 (=B307-11). This point is discussed in detail in Stephen Palmquist, Kant’s Critical Religion: Volume Two of Kant’s System of Perspectives (Aldershot, England: Ashgate, 2000), section V.1 (pp.86-90).

[4] That a theological orientation pervades Kant’s entire System is argued at great length in ibid.; see especially Chapter I (pp.2-16).

[5]See e.g., Kant’s Foundations of the Metaphysics of Morals, p.399; Critique of Practical Reason, p.82-6; and Metaphysics of Morals, p.450-2. The issue is also discussed in detail, comparing Kant’s treatment with the traditional conception of Christian love, in Palmquist’s Kant’s Critical Religion (op.cit.), section IX.2.B (pp.258-67).

[6]Victoria S. Wike: Kant on Happiness in Ethics (New York: State University of New York Press, 1994), pp.2-3. This “physical happiness” is what makes human beings earthly dependent. But this dependency is directed by our own inclinations and emotions; emotions and felicity are therefore a relative feeling and tend to be unbalanced.

[7]Wike, p.5.

[8]Kant, The Conflict of the Faculties, tr. Mary J. Gregor (New York: Abaris Books, 1979), p.189. Admittedly, this passage could be interpreted to mean that Kant simply ignored the pain. But we maintain that it implies more than this: Kant was able to treat the paid “as if it had nothing to do with me” only because he had first overcome it through his willful awareness.

[9]Kant uses the term “ectypal” only once in Critique of Pure Reason (at B375), in connection his reflections on Plato’s method of philosophizing. But he reintroduces the term at one point in the second Critique. See Critique of Practical Reason, tr. Lewis White Beck (Indianapolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1956), p.44 (p.43 in German pagination). Our use here corresponds more to the latter than to the former.

[10]XIV Dalai Lama in, Healing Emotions: Conversations with the Dalai Lama on Mindfulness, Emotions, and Health, ed. D. Goleman (Boston: Shambala Publications, 1997), p.17.

[11]Yeshi Donden: Health Through Balance (Ithaca: Snow Lion Publications, 1986), p.19.

[12]For a thoroughgoing comparison between the Golden Rule and Kant’s principle of the Categorical Imperative, see Stephen Palmquist, “Four Perspectives on Moral Judgement: The Rational Principles of Jesus and Kant”, The Heythrop Journal 32:2 (April 1991), pp.216-232. A revised version of this paper is also included in Appendix V of Kant’s Critical Religion (op.cit., pp.441-52).

[13]This more sympathetic approach to interpreting Kantian ethics has been supported by an increasing number of interpreters in recent years. For one of the earliest and best examples, see Lo Ping-cheung, “A Critical Reevaluation of the Alleged ‘Empty Formalism’ of Kantian Ethics”, Ethics 91 (January 1981), pp.181-210. See also, Palmquist’s Kant’s System of Perspectives, pp.273-5.

[14]Health Through Balance (op.cit.), p.16.

[15]J.H.W. Stuckenberg: The Life of Immanuel Kant (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1986), p.100.

[16]Ibid., p.102.

[17]Ibid., p.107.

[18]A boddhisatva is a person who is fully aware of what must be done in order to attain illumination and struggles to live in accordance with the requirements of the ethical life (in the Buddhist sense).

[19]Ibid., p.107.

[20]Gunapala Dharmasiri: Fundamentals of Buddhist Ethics (Antioch, Ca.: Golden Leaves Pub. Co., 1989), p.4.

[21]The Life of Immanuel Kant (op.cit.), p.114, quoting Kant. One of the authors of this paper, Stephen Palmquist, would like to thank the Research Grants Council in Hong Kong for their generous support of his research on issues relating to Kant's philosophy of science.

 

 

 

 

---

 

This etext is based on a prepublication draft of the published version of this essay.

 

Send comments to: StevePq@hkbu.edu.hk

 

My Web Counter identifies you as visitor number

  

 

to this page, last updated on 29 March 2011. Please come again!

 

Back to the listing of Steve Palmquist's published articles.

 

Back to the main map of Steve Palmquist's web site.