Clear Vision Trust

What is a karma?

Some people say that the principle of Karma can be summed up in the phrase 'actions have consequences', but it says a lot more than this. As the teaching of the five niyamas illustrates, Karma is not a general law of causation. It is not even a general law of action. It is a practical teaching that underpins Buddhist ethics. It accounts for how our deliberate behaviour leads not only to the transformation of our moral character - for better or worse - but our relationships with other people, and even the world that we live in. So what exactly makes an act a karma?

The Importance of Intention

Remember that in Brahmanism, a karma was a ritual act - its effectiveness depended on the proper execution of a specified ritual. Karmas had prescribed values, which generated a certain quantity of merit (or demerit) irrespective of the individual actor's state of mind. But the Buddha understood Karma in quite a different way. He saw that the intention (cetana) or volition that motivates an action is what is most important.(footnote 45) Any overt physical or verbal behaviour is secondary (though not insignificant).(This point is debated in the Upali Sutta in the Majjhima Nikaya)

So the karmic value of an action cannot be known by observing just its surface form; it requires an understanding of the motivation that gave rise to it. This motivation is not always obvious, since two actions may seem superficially similar but be inspired by contrary motives. For example, let's say two people give me presents, even the same present. The first does so because he wants to suck up to me in order that he may later borrow my car whereas the second has noticed that I am a bit down and wants to cheer me up. The two actions will have different karmic values because they are driven by different intentions, so they will have different consequences (even if I am taken in by the bribery).

Intentions can broadly be classified into two kinds or modes: skilful (kusala) and unskilful (akusala). Skilful intentions are born from generosity, compassion, and understanding; unskilful intentions are rooted in craving, aversion, and spiritual ignorance, collectively known as the three unwholesome roots (lobha, dvesa, and moha). Skilful actions are said to lead to desirable consequences and unskilful actions to undesirable ones. Learning to discriminate between skilful and unskilful desires, and acting on the skilful, is the foundation of Buddhist ethics. In practice, though, our motives are usually mixed - some skilful, some unskilful - and this will have a bearing on the resulting consequences.

But what is an intention? It is a deliberately willed action carried out by a being capable of moral judgement. This means that only beings able to deliberate about their moral choices and consciously direct their behaviour can perform karmas. So Karma does not apply to animals, babies, or severely mentally impaired people (in so far as they are unable to make moral distinctions and reflective decisions). But willed action has to be understood here broadly.

There are many actions which we will, but of which we are not particularly conscious while they are happening. For instance, when we drive a car we are willing the gear changes, braking, acceleration, and so on, but our mind may be on 'automatic'. Despite not always being conscious of our willing from moment to moment, we are still making a choice - to drive the car - so we must bear responsibility for the consequences of this. How our actions will modify our own future, the world around us, and the responses of others will be influenced by the degree to which there is 'intentional weight' behind our conduct. While our habitual, semi-conscious behaviour probably makes up the bulk of our karmic activity, some singular acts may be decisive in determining our karmic future.

Sometimes people are coerced into doing things that they would not normally do, things they even believe are wrong. And yet, through fear, they still do them. Are these intentional acts? Rather than pursue a legal definition of intention, let's look at an example. As a result of the 'Great Escape' of Allied aircrew from Stalag Luft III in the Second World War, Hitler ordered the execution of fifty of the recaptured escapees. One German soldier was ordered to shoot two of these men, an act that went against his own conscience and the conventions of war, yet he went ahead and shot them anyway - perhaps out of fear of reprisals from the SS. After the event the soldier felt deep remorse for his action but was still arrested and hanged by the Allies.

Despite his moral misgivings, the soldier chose to obey a wicked order and so must bear responsibility for this. This is a tragic story and probably few of us are likely to face such difficult choices - perhaps we would all act in the same way in the same circumstances - but, importantly, where there is choice there is moral responsibility and so karma. The soldier felt remorse because he knew that he had had a choice; he had chosen to value his own life above that of the airmen. While we must surely sympathize with his situation, it is nevertheless choices of this kind that enable dictators to remain in power.

It is worth noticing that spiritual ignorance is classed as unskilful. This means that we could act from seemingly positive motives and still behave unskilfully. A well-known proverb declares that 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' and this holds good in relation to karma. The fact that 'I meant well' will not absolve me from the consequences of my lack of forethought. It is our responsibility to think through the potential consequences of what we do. For Buddhism, ignorance is a disposition; lack of awareness is a bad habit rather than an inevitable - and therefore excusable - condition of our being. To perpetuate our state of ignorance rather than overcome it is volitional and therefore has karmic implications.

Crucially, in Buddhism 'action' includes acts not only of the body but also of speech and mind. So even the thoughts that we don't act upon have karmic weight - not least because they play a significant role in the way that we colour our experience. More profoundly, we become what we think. Once we have learned to behave in a reasonably civilized way, thoughts, rather than overt actions, are likely to become our most influential karmas. Somewhat paradoxically, an overt action discharged on the basis of a fairly weak volition may, in some cases, be of less karmic significance than a constantly cherished thought that does not find physical expression. For instance, let's say that I go to my housemate's room and borrow some of his books, forgetting that he likes to be asked. This is called, in Buddhism, taking the not-given. But the karmic effect of this act may be less decisive than my daily practice of metta, or loving-kindness, through which I deliberately cultivate positive emotions towards him. For Buddhism, thoughts are acts and have their own consequences, not least because sooner or later they are likely to be expressed verbally or physically.

While a karma is fundamentally an intention or volition, overt behaviour is also very important. It is, for instance, quite different to think vaguely about taking my friend a bunch of flowers when I go to visit him than actually to do so. Both the fantasy and the overt action are no doubt skilful karmas, but the latter demands more commitment and determination and will have more significant consequences in all sorts of ways.

'Action' can also include 'omission', particularly when I have made a promise to act or have a duty to do so. All parents, for instance, have a duty to protect, feed, and clothe their children. If they do not fulfil their obligations and harm comes to their children, they must bear the moral responsibility (and may also be held legally accountable). But moral duties of this kind are not always clear-cut. How far does our duty to help the starving in the developing countries extend, for instance? If we didn't contribute to a famine appeal, would we be implicated in the consequent deaths of those who received no food? Looked at from this point of view, our duty to assist others becomes an impossible burden, as there are so many beings in need. But let's say that when we hear about the appeal on the news, we stifle our urge to give, at the very least we will be starving the impulse within us that seeks to reach out and respond to the suffering of others. This itself is a karmic consequence that will transform the kind of person we become. The more we ignore the positive ethical impulses that spark within us, the more we erode our moral sensibility.

Another way of talking about Karma is to say that it is about choice, but choice as understood in a broader sense than usual. Let me explain. A significant choice - and one that we were very much behind at the time - might lead us to embark on a series of actions. When we make the first choice we are, as it were, also choosing the possible consequences of that choice. Understanding this point is crucial in deepening our ethical sensitivity. If we reflect on it, our understanding of the gravity of the present moment may well intensify, because we will realize that what we are about to do may set in train a series of events that will have repurcussions far into the future. We usually think very little about the choices we make, but just a little imagination can enable us to realize how even quite casual decisions can significantly determine our destiny.

For example, some years ago, a young merchant banker called Nick Leeson, who worked for Barings Bank, decided to speculate on the stock market using bank funds. He thought he would make some money, replace the funds, and no one would be any the wiser. But he lost money. To win it back and cover up his deceit, he invested still more of Barings' funds, but he lost more money. He then began cooking the books in order to cover up his mistakes, lost more money, and eventually brought about the collapse of the bank. He was later arrested and imprisoned. At first he had no thought about bringing down the bank, or even defrauding it, but his first gamble led him into a series of further gambles which resulted in consequences that he neither foresaw nor welcomed. This nightmarish scenario of life spiralling out of control could happen to anyone.

So we make choices at different levels. While in principle we are completely free, in practice we can only exercise our freedom by committing ourselves to a particular course of action. By definition, we cannot then follow others, so any choice involves a narrowing of subsequent choices and this can leave us with an undesirable choice - one we would rather not make, but we are obliged to. Any major life decision is likely to bind us to other decisions that we hadn't foreseen and might not want to go along with. In making the first choice, we are choosing these too. Learning to imagine the consequences of our decisions can lead us to act in a more reflective, intelligent, and conscious way. This heightens our awareness of the gravity of the present moment; what we do will change the world, however imperceptibly. We will have to live with the consequences of our decisions.

Spiritually evolving individuals are not only more able to take responsibility for their choices but also, as they grow, recover more choice. How is this so? The relatively unaware person stumbles through life making decisions with huge implications, but often without recognizing that they have done so. Because they don't recognize they have made choices, they cannot review or change them, so they experience life as though it is directed by forces outside their control. As a result, they may end up blaming other people - usually an authority such as the government - because they are in a situation that they don't like and they feel unable to change it. But as soon as we discard the belief that we can determine our own lives, we disenfranchise ourselves, we become victims, and spiritual progress becomes a matter of accident rather than personal responsibility.

Choice in the karmic sense is not always obvious. Just because we fail to consider doing things differently, or are unaware that we could do so, doesn't mean that we have no choice. Lack of awareness is itself a choice, a habit, that we perpetuate moment by moment as long as we do nothing about it. In the course of our daily activities we don't consciously register many of our choices, which may partly explain why we sometimes feel resentful at some of their implications. The spiritual life involves becoming more and more aware of the choices we make, how we make those choices, moment by moment, and changing them in the light of our best values.

Not all the choices we make have the same karmic weight. Buddhist scholastic philosophy, for instance, identifies four grades of karma ranked according to their supposed order of priority. These are (1) weighty (garuka) karmas, (2) death-proximate (maranasanna) karmas, (3) habitual (acinna) karmas, and (4) residual (katatta) karmas.

A weighty karma is likely to have a decisive impact on the evolution of our being. Traditionally, unskilful weighty karmas comprise the five 'heinous crimes': killing one's mother, killing one's father, killing a saint (arhant), wounding a Buddha (apparently a Buddha cannot be killed), and causing schism in the spiritual community (sangha). Committing any of these acts leads to a rebirth in hell. (See, for example, the Parikuppa Sutta in the Anguttara Nikaya.) The only skilful weighty karma mentioned in the tradition is the entering of states of superconsciousness (dhyana) through meditation. But we needn't stick rigidly to this schema. The general point is clear: if we do unskilful things, this will have a negative effect on our future lives, but acting skilfully will have a positive effect. Interpreting the notion of weighty karmas in a more contemporary way, we could say that a weighty karma is a decision or action that critically directs - or redirects - our lives. For instance, undergoing a religious conversion could be a weighty karma in this sense.

In the absence of a weighty karma, death-proximate karma comes into play. Most religions place importance on one's dying wishes and Buddhism is no exception. The intentions and aspirations that one exhales with one's last breath can have a powerful transforming effect, and - traditionally - improves one's chances of a good rebirth. Even if we don't believe in rebirth, what we dwell on at death is probably a reliable gauge as to the kind of life we have lived and the values we hold most dear.

The third grade of karma is 'habitual'. This is 'bread-and- butter karma': what we are doing most of the time. The precise effects of a single habitual karma may not be easy to see, but each time we act out a habit the more likely we are to act it out again. Slowly, over months and years, we sculpt our character just as a potter gradually moulds the clay.

The final grade of karma is 'residual', which accounts for anything not covered by the other three categories. It would, for example, cover ordinary, everyday karmas that were neither weighty nor committed habitually. For instance, in a moment of recklessness we might go shop-lifting, but if we only do it once it does not become a habit. Clearly this will have some sort of effect on our life but it might not be easy to determine what exactly the effect is; it might simply be that we would feel some remorse the following day and want to make amends.

So karmas are not all of the same kind - some are more influential and decisive than others. A weighty karma may, for instance, override the influence of a habitual karma, while a habitual karma may 'cancel out' a residual karma.

Two Important Assumptions

Karma rests upon two important assumptions about human character. The first assumption is that human character is not fixed, and so it may be modified. The second is that willed actions are the means by which character is modified. Looking at these claims will help to clarify how Karma works.

1. Human Character is Malleable

The common-sense view of human personality is that it is fairly static. This view is often associated with a belief in an eternal, unchanging soul, such as that of Christian doctrine. Many people, not only Christians, believe there is an essence to the person - there is something about each individual that is substantial and permanent. This belief seems to be borne out by our experience: people have recognizable personalities, behave in habitual ways, and don't usually change very much. But according to Buddhism this view is wrong: it arises from existential insecurity, a need to feel substantial, real, permanent. Without denying the obvious way in which people do have distinct personalities, Buddhism rejects the claim that there is anything fixed and unchanging in an absolute sense. If this were the case, the principle of dependent origination would be fatally flawed and spiritual evolution would be impossible. While recognizing the continuity of human personality, Buddhism says that this personality is malleable. There are no limits to the possibilities for individual transformation: a timid person may become confident, a Scrooge benevolent, an angry person tranquil, a clumsy person mindful. Like everything else, our personalities and character traits are dependent upon conditions and, should those conditions cease, they will change.

This malleability of character, and especially of one's moral relations with others, is beautifully illustrated in George Eliot's story, Silas Marner. Silas, a respected elder in a small religious sect, is falsely accused of theft. He is 'convicted' through the drawing of lots. Thus begins his first moral transformation. With his faith shattered, he leaves his home village to settle in Raveloe. Taking refuge in his work, and shunning fickle humanity, Silas starts to accumulate a horde of gold. Embittered by his unfair treatment, he ceases to care for anyone or anything except his growing wealth. Day by day, he becomes more miserly, and more misanthropic.

Some time later, Dunstan, a wayward son of the local squire, steals Silas Marner's gold. Silas is again crushed by the way life has treated him, but the thief is not unmasked and Silas is plunged into poverty. Some months later, Silas finds a young girl who has wandered into his house. By following her tracks in the snow, he discovers her mother, who has tragically died. Silas interprets the girl, whom he names Eppie, as a blessing that has come to replace his gold. He learns to love her - and she him - and, in this way, his spirit is transformed; his hatred for humanity resolves. This is his second moral transformation.

Many years later, Silas and Eppie go to visit Silas's old home, which has been torn down to make way for a factory. This experience frees him from his cursed past and enables him to return home in peace. The miracle of Eppie has caused him to trust in life and to overcome his resentment of the injustices he has suffered. This story, initially tragic but ultimately uplifting, shows how our character can not only deteriorate but also rejuvenate during the course of our lives.

2. Volitional Actions Modify Character

Karma not only says that human character is malleable but that our character is modified by the volitional actions we carry out. Looking at a traditional Buddhist analysis of the human being will help explain this. Buddhist teaching divides the human being into five aspects (skandhas, literally 'heaps'): form, feeling, perception, volitional dispositions, and consciousness (rupa, vedana, samjna, samskaras & vijnana). Rather than give a full account of these aspects, we will concentrate on just one of them: volitional dispositions (samskaras). What makes each individual recognizable and unique is the sum total of his or her volitional dispositions. Our volitional dispositions are our tendencies to act, speak, and think in a particular way. They are what determine our habits and thus what make us distinctive. They constitute those aspects of our character which others are constantly praising or complaining about. Depending on our particular moral make-up, some of these habits will be skilful, others unskilful. Owing to their relative continuity, we tend to think that these habits are enduring and unchanging, but this is a mistake that prevents us reforming them and realizing our potential.

Our 'essence', to the extent that this term means anything, is that we are a constantly changing bundle of habits. Every time we undertake a volitional act, a particular tendency is re- inforced, and every time we resist the temptation of another course of action, we undermine the strength of the volition that would carry it out. In this way, we change from moment to moment. But in the short term that change is usually imperceptible; it becomes significant only after many years. Sudden, cataclysmic personal changes are rare, although not unknown. Understanding the dynamic of personal change can help us to take on board the slow, painstaking, even laborious nature of personal transformation. We can't completely change ourselves overnight because our more deeply ingrained patterns of thinking, feeling, speaking, and behaving require consistent attention over a prolonged period if they are to be changed. There is no quick fix. At the same time, while progress may be slow and difficult, it is possible. It is because we have no fixed, unchanging self that we can become spiritually liberated.

footnote:
45: Nibbedhika Sutta, Anguttara Nikaya iii.65