By Samuel Gugliotta
For Variety

AS noted by the philosopher, Herbert Fingarette, the phrase “the problem of the self” may have many meanings: “The phrase can allude to logical analysis of the concept of the self, or to psychological theories about the self, or to moral or religious prescriptions of what the ideal self would be like. The “problem of the self” may also be taken to amount to the quest to identify some specially central element of personhood — the soul, or (beneath the facade) the “true” or “real” self. The “problem of the self” may refer not to an intellectual question but to a task for a person: the task of actualizing one’s “true self” and so achieving fulfillment. Or, by contrast, the phrase may refer to the task of losing or surrendering the self, and so achieving liberation from a delusion that is the seat and source of our deepest suffering.” (Quoted from the essay, “The Problem of the Self in the Analects” in the text “The Moral Circle and the Self” (Open Court)).
Fingarette in interested in the last mentioned problem, which he calls “the task of becoming selfless.” It is also claimed that this rather paradoxical task (for it is the self that seeks to become selfless) is characteristic of Asian philosophy. In Buddhism, Daoism, and Indian philosophy, there is much talk of “emptiness” (sunyata), of “non-action” (wuwei), or of reaching the state of nirvana: identification with the Buddha mind. In all these cases, it seems, the seeker after enlightenment or self-transformation is expected to transcend the narrow, individualistic, desiring and suffering egotistical self — that “I” ensconced through ignorance to an unreal world of its own making.
In this busy world of “getting and spending” the doctrine of non-action, or “wuwei” is given a delightful description in the eighth century work, “The Recorded Conversation of Zen Master Yixuan”: “The Master told the congregation: “Seekers of the Way. In Buddhism no effort is necessary. All one has to do is to do nothing, except to move his bowels, urinate, put on his clothing, eat his meals, and lie down if he is tired. The stupid will laugh at him, but the wise one will understand. An ancient person said, ‘One who makes effort externally is surely a fool.’” (Translated by Wing-Tsit Shan in “A Source Book of Chinese Philosophy” [Princeton]).
In Western philosophy, the claim that there are no selves is a consequence of the “bundle theory.” In “Blackwell’s Companion To Metaphysics” this is defined as “the view that an individual thing is nothing more than a bundle of properties.” The 18th century Scottish philosopher, David Hume, famously applied this theory to the notion of the self. According to Hume, the “self” is nothing but a “bundle of thoughts and experiences.” There is no additional entity, called a “self” which is encountered in the world. Yet Hume’s claims are based more on a logical analysis of the concept of self, which itself is grounded in the philosophy of empiricism: observational experience constitutes the sole justification for the valid acceptance of any knowledge claim. But now we are worlds away from the Eastern point of view, where the claim that there are no selves is a consequence of a task — the achievement of selflessness. Such an achievement, but its very conception entails an actual transformation of the mind and body of the seeker. But is this true in the Western view? Some people, if they believe something is true based purely on reason or logic, may change their lives thereby. But ordinarily this is not the case. The mind in a sense is split from our feelings, and we exclaim, in the words of St. Paul: “The good that I would do, I do not do; the evil that I would not do, that I do.”
I have previously talked about a postmodern view of self in terms of the self as a narrative we create — the silent or explicit stories we tell about our selves. This point of view converges on a Confucian view of the self which is a kind of magnificent compromise between the notion of the narrow, egotistical self, and the notion of the selfless self. So more about this next week, when I will continue with this winding adventure. But did I say “I”?
Puzzles
1. If the weight of one quarter equals the weight of two pennies, and if a pound of quarters is worth $25.00, how much is a pound of pennies worth?
Answers to last week’s puzzle
1. 100 students