Some superstition does cross the silliness gap
Re: “What the ‘look thep’ dolls teach us,” Stoppage Time, Opinion & Analysis, February 3.
Tulsathit Taptim’s latest column makes a worthy sequel to his earlier insightful discussion of the contradictions between Buddhist principles and practices in contemporary Thailand. We don’t generally expect to find thoughtful analysis of philosophical issues in modern newspapers, especially when such analysis is written not in impenetrable academese but in clear language that everybody can understand. Khun Tulsathit deserves praise for this achievement, and I hope we’ll see more of it.
He defines the problem clearly when he writes, “Sometimes the line between spirituality and superstition is very thin.” Yes, indeed. We could be flippant and say, “It's ALL superstition.” Or we could say, “Truth (with a capital T) is everything I believe. Superstition is everything you believe and I don't.” Or we could yield to the empirical mandate and say, “I believe in every proposition that can be scientifically verified. Everything else is up in the air.” That would leave an awful lot up in the air.
Questioning other people’s beliefs is not likely to make one popular in Thailand, even though the Buddha, in his Kalama Sutta, suggested that, before subscribing to any belief, we should personally investigate it and make sure it’s true. This makes Khun Tulsathit’s conclusion is the only weak point in an otherwise well-reasoned essay: “You shouldn't do just one thing – consider other people’s beliefs silly.”
It may be mean-spirited of me to say so, but if I investigate certain beliefs and find them silly, I have a perfect right to draw that conclusion. That’s what’s called using one’s brain. If I were to meet somebody who believed that the universe is ruled by a giant panda named Bob, and that it is shaped like a spring roll, which Bob is slowly unrolling preparatory to eating it, I’m afraid I’d have difficulty controlling my mirth.
So if I investigate somebody else’s beliefs with as much objectivity as I can muster, I have a perfect right to conclude that they’re silly. But prudence, and respect for social harmony, and a sensible desire to avoid a punch in the mouth might make it advisable to shut up about it. I’m sure Galileo would agree.
William Page
