There can be pain without suffering. If pain is experienced without attachment and aversion, there is no resulting suffering. If the Buddha were to stub his toe, there would be pain, but he would not suffer as a result.
I wonder whether “suffering” is an adequate translation. I get the feeling that the Buddhist sutras and our common vulgate are talking past each other. See for example MN144, in which Channa slits his wrists to end his pain, and the Buddha says he was sufficiently enlightened that he will not be reborn. Channa complains: “Reverend Sāriputta, I’m not keeping well, I’m not getting by. The pain is terrible and growing, not fading; its growing is evident, not its fading. The winds piercing my head are so severe, it feels like a strong man drilling into my head with a sharp point. The pain in my head is so severe, it feels like a strong man tightening a tough leather strap around my head. The winds slicing my belly are so severe, like a deft butcher or their apprentice were slicing open a cows’s belly with a meat cleaver. The burning in my body is so severe, it feels like two strong men grabbing a weaker man by the arms to burn and scorch him on a pit of glowing coals. I’m not keeping well, I’m not getting by. The pain is terrible and growing, not fading; its growing is evident, not its fading. Reverend Sāriputta, I will slit my wrists. I don’t wish to live.” If that’s “not suffering” then “not suffering” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I think asking people like Daniel Ingram, Frank Yang, Nick Cammeratta, Shinzen Young, Roger Thisdell, etc. on how they experience pain post awakening is much more productive than debating 2500 year old teachings which have been (mis)translated many times.
It seems a bit misguided to me to argue “well, even in the absence of suffering, one might experience such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain, so this ‘not suffering’ can’t be all it’s cracked up to be”—would you rather experience suffering on top of that pain? With or without pain, not suffering is preferable to suffering.
For example, with end-of-life patients, circumstances being so unpleasant doesn’t mean that they may as well suffer, too; nor does “being an end-of-life patient” being a possible experience among the space of all possible non-suffering experiences make not suffering any less valuable.
Acknowledging that not suffering is preferable to suffering, even in the presence of pain, doesn’t trivialize the reality of pain, which still feels bad!
My point is that in English “experience such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain” would be considered an uncontroversial example of “suffering”, not as something suffering-neutral to which suffering might or might not be added. I understand that in Buddhism there’s a fine-grained distinction of some sort here, but it carries over poorly to English.
I expect that if you told a Buddhist-naive English-speaker “Buddhism teaches you how to never suffer ever again” they would assume you were claiming that this would include “never experiencing such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain.” If this is not the case, I think they would be justified to feel they’d been played with a bit of a bait-and-switch dharma-wise.
So basically the Buddhist word that gets translated to English as suffering means something like “second-order (and higher) effects of pain (and other emotions)”, while the natural meaning of the English word is more like “all effects of pain”.
The question is whether those are two different words in the original language, or it was a bait-and-switch from the very beginning.
I’ve seen dukkha translated as something more like “unsatisfactoriness” which puts a kind of Stoic spin on it. You look at the cards you’ve been dealt, and instead of playing them, you find them inadequate and get upset about it. The Stoics (and the Buddhists, in this interpretation) would recommend that you instead just play the cards you’re dealt. They may not be great cards, but you won’t make them any better by complaining about them. Dunno if this is authentic to Buddhism or is more the result of Westerners trying to find something familiar in Buddhism, though.
My point is that in English “experience such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain” would be considered an uncontroversial example of “suffering”, not as something suffering-neutral to which suffering might or might not be added.
Sure, but I think that’s just because of the usual conflation between pain and suffering which I’m trying to address with this post. If you ask anyone with the relevant experience “does Buddhism teaching me to never suffer again mean that I’ll never experience (severe) pain again?”, they’ll just answer no. I don’t think it’s reasonable to think of this as a “bait-and-switch” because the dhamma never taught the end of pain, only the end of suffering; it’s not the dhamma’s fault if novices think the end of suffering means an end to pain.
it’s not the dhamma’s fault if novices think the end of suffering means an end to pain.
I think this text sounds quite misleading, though maybe it’s a problem of translation: (emphasis mine)
Bhikkhus, this is the one and only way for the purification of beings, for overcoming sorrow and lamentation, for the complete destruction of pain and distress, for attainment of the Noble Path, and for the realization of Nibbāna.
I’d guess it’s a problem of translation; I’m pretty confident the original text in Pali would just say “dukkha” there.
The Wikipedia entry for dukkha says it’s commonly translated as “pain,” but I’m very sure the referent of dukkha in experience is not pain, even if it’s mistranslated as such, however commonly.
I wonder whether “suffering” is an adequate translation. I get the feeling that the Buddhist sutras and our common vulgate are talking past each other. See for example MN144, in which Channa slits his wrists to end his pain, and the Buddha says he was sufficiently enlightened that he will not be reborn. Channa complains: “Reverend Sāriputta, I’m not keeping well, I’m not getting by. The pain is terrible and growing, not fading; its growing is evident, not its fading. The winds piercing my head are so severe, it feels like a strong man drilling into my head with a sharp point. The pain in my head is so severe, it feels like a strong man tightening a tough leather strap around my head. The winds slicing my belly are so severe, like a deft butcher or their apprentice were slicing open a cows’s belly with a meat cleaver. The burning in my body is so severe, it feels like two strong men grabbing a weaker man by the arms to burn and scorch him on a pit of glowing coals. I’m not keeping well, I’m not getting by. The pain is terrible and growing, not fading; its growing is evident, not its fading. Reverend Sāriputta, I will slit my wrists. I don’t wish to live.” If that’s “not suffering” then “not suffering” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.
I think asking people like Daniel Ingram, Frank Yang, Nick Cammeratta, Shinzen Young, Roger Thisdell, etc. on how they experience pain post awakening is much more productive than debating 2500 year old teachings which have been (mis)translated many times.
It seems a bit misguided to me to argue “well, even in the absence of suffering, one might experience such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain, so this ‘not suffering’ can’t be all it’s cracked up to be”—would you rather experience suffering on top of that pain? With or without pain, not suffering is preferable to suffering.
For example, with end-of-life patients, circumstances being so unpleasant doesn’t mean that they may as well suffer, too; nor does “being an end-of-life patient” being a possible experience among the space of all possible non-suffering experiences make not suffering any less valuable.
Acknowledging that not suffering is preferable to suffering, even in the presence of pain, doesn’t trivialize the reality of pain, which still feels bad!
My point is that in English “experience such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain” would be considered an uncontroversial example of “suffering”, not as something suffering-neutral to which suffering might or might not be added. I understand that in Buddhism there’s a fine-grained distinction of some sort here, but it carries over poorly to English.
I expect that if you told a Buddhist-naive English-speaker “Buddhism teaches you how to never suffer ever again” they would assume you were claiming that this would include “never experiencing such severe pain that one might prefer non-existence to continuing to endure that pain.” If this is not the case, I think they would be justified to feel they’d been played with a bit of a bait-and-switch dharma-wise.
So basically the Buddhist word that gets translated to English as suffering means something like “second-order (and higher) effects of pain (and other emotions)”, while the natural meaning of the English word is more like “all effects of pain”.
The question is whether those are two different words in the original language, or it was a bait-and-switch from the very beginning.
I’ve seen dukkha translated as something more like “unsatisfactoriness” which puts a kind of Stoic spin on it. You look at the cards you’ve been dealt, and instead of playing them, you find them inadequate and get upset about it. The Stoics (and the Buddhists, in this interpretation) would recommend that you instead just play the cards you’re dealt. They may not be great cards, but you won’t make them any better by complaining about them. Dunno if this is authentic to Buddhism or is more the result of Westerners trying to find something familiar in Buddhism, though.
Sure, but I think that’s just because of the usual conflation between pain and suffering which I’m trying to address with this post. If you ask anyone with the relevant experience “does Buddhism teaching me to never suffer again mean that I’ll never experience (severe) pain again?”, they’ll just answer no. I don’t think it’s reasonable to think of this as a “bait-and-switch” because the dhamma never taught the end of pain, only the end of suffering; it’s not the dhamma’s fault if novices think the end of suffering means an end to pain.
I think this text sounds quite misleading, though maybe it’s a problem of translation: (emphasis mine)
I’d guess it’s a problem of translation; I’m pretty confident the original text in Pali would just say “dukkha” there.
The Wikipedia entry for dukkha says it’s commonly translated as “pain,” but I’m very sure the referent of dukkha in experience is not pain, even if it’s mistranslated as such, however commonly.