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Learning objectives for week 7
- To distinguish between enchanted and disenchanted worldviews;
- To explore and imagine the experience and implications of an animist ontology;
- To reflect on different religious traditions’ understanding of the spiritual connection between humans and the world of nature.
An enchanted world
In many human tribes and societies, it is quite normal to speak and to communicate with plants, objects, animals and features of the environment. This is a regular and integral part of their culture. Are these people crazy?
As I mentioned in a previous lecture, modern society is characterised by a “naturalist” ontology, in which the world is divided into two categories of beings: humans, who are endowed with personhood and interiority or subjectivity, and non-humans, who have material existence but no subjective agency. Having material bodies like non-human beings, we are part of the world of nature; but being endowed with interiority and subjectivity, we are radically different -- not only from the world of nature but from each other -- since each person has a different subjectivity.
According to the naturalist ontology, the human being is a part of nature. The human being has a body similar to the animal, which is made of chemicals and material substances like the other beings. However, according to this ontology, only the human has interiority – consciousness and subjectivity. Maybe the dog also has a little bit of interiority, but generally speaking, only the human has consciousness and subjectivity. This is how we have divided humans and nonhumans.
The dominant ontology or “operating system”, we could say, the one that is normal in our society, is the naturalist one in which you can only communicate with other human beings. Within that ontology, if you see a plant, a mountain, the wind, the sun, animals and so on, you might try to be connected with them, to appreciate them, to respect them, to interpret things from them, but they definitely never directly communicate to you. They don’t send special messages or signals to you, unless they’re dogs, or a few other species of animals. Although there might be a few borderline cases in which a certain animal, like a dog, a cat or another pet, can receive and understand messages or signals from humans, generally speaking, in the naturalist ontology there is no genuine communication between humans and nonhumans. If you talk to the trees, to the bees and to the sun, you will be considered crazy.
In the naturalist ontology, if you meet a nonhuman, except for perhaps a dog, you know how to deal with it. You won’t talk to it, and it won’t talk to you. It has its external appearances – shape, colour, structure – but it has no subjectivity. It doesn’t have any consciousness, and it only exists as an external thing. In this sense, it has exteriority. That is the world of nature in our ontology – nature doesn’t think, or have consciousness or the ability to communicate. If you think some non-humans have feelings, that would be considered to be your subjective belief, since there is no way to prove it.
Sociologists consider the naturalist ontology to be “disenchanted”. There was once an “enchanted” world, in which meanings were communicated to humans by nonhuman realities. But since we moved into modernity, we also developed a “disenchanted” worldview in which it is impossible to communicate between humans and nonhumans.
Sociologists and philosophers say that, as the naturalist, materialist worldview has become preponderant in modern societies, the world has become "disenchanted", like an "iron cage".[1] This disenchantment is contrasted to other ontologies that see the world as "enchanted". What is an enchanted world? According to the philosopher Charles Taylor, in a disenchanted world, all meaning is "in our own mind". We give meanings to things, but, just as Sartre and Camus noted, there is no meaning intrinsic to anything in the world -- it's all in our minds. But in an enchanted world, not only is there meaning intrinsic to the world, to objects or to invisible agents (such as gods or spirits), but they can communicate meaning to us, even meanings and ideas that we would not expect.[2] In other words, in an enchanted world, we are in communication with the visible and invisible world around us, while in a disenchanted world, we only communicate with other humans.
The film Avatar dramatises the conflict between two ontologies: the materialist, disenchanted worldview of the humans, and the enchanted worldview of the Navis, whose imagined culture is inspired by anthropological accounts of the Indians of the Amazon. This culture is animist, in that it considers all beings to have human qualities of personhood.[3]
In the naturalist ontology of modern secular culture, the world, its beings and events may have meaning for humans, but in themselves they have no consciousness, no agency, and nothing to communicate to humans. Many human societies, on the other hand, have conceived of themselves as living in an “enchanted” world, in which people, animals, objects and invisible beings all have consciousness, agency, inter-communication and mutual influence. In this lecture, we will use anthropological cases and thought experiments to imagine what it might be like to live in an enchanted world, and analyse the process of disenchantment (and re-enchantments) in secular modernity. We will focus on a prevalent type of enchanted ontology – animism.
Animism is the third of three types of ontology I am introducing in this class:
As I mentioned in a previous lecture, modern society is characterised by a “naturalist” ontology, in which the world is divided into two categories of beings: humans, who are endowed with personhood and interiority or subjectivity, and non-humans, who have material existence but no subjective agency. Having material bodies like non-human beings, we are part of the world of nature; but being endowed with interiority and subjectivity, we are radically different -- not only from the world of nature but from each other -- since each person has a different subjectivity.
According to the naturalist ontology, the human being is a part of nature. The human being has a body similar to the animal, which is made of chemicals and material substances like the other beings. However, according to this ontology, only the human has interiority – consciousness and subjectivity. Maybe the dog also has a little bit of interiority, but generally speaking, only the human has consciousness and subjectivity. This is how we have divided humans and nonhumans.
The dominant ontology or “operating system”, we could say, the one that is normal in our society, is the naturalist one in which you can only communicate with other human beings. Within that ontology, if you see a plant, a mountain, the wind, the sun, animals and so on, you might try to be connected with them, to appreciate them, to respect them, to interpret things from them, but they definitely never directly communicate to you. They don’t send special messages or signals to you, unless they’re dogs, or a few other species of animals. Although there might be a few borderline cases in which a certain animal, like a dog, a cat or another pet, can receive and understand messages or signals from humans, generally speaking, in the naturalist ontology there is no genuine communication between humans and nonhumans. If you talk to the trees, to the bees and to the sun, you will be considered crazy.
In the naturalist ontology, if you meet a nonhuman, except for perhaps a dog, you know how to deal with it. You won’t talk to it, and it won’t talk to you. It has its external appearances – shape, colour, structure – but it has no subjectivity. It doesn’t have any consciousness, and it only exists as an external thing. In this sense, it has exteriority. That is the world of nature in our ontology – nature doesn’t think, or have consciousness or the ability to communicate. If you think some non-humans have feelings, that would be considered to be your subjective belief, since there is no way to prove it.
Sociologists consider the naturalist ontology to be “disenchanted”. There was once an “enchanted” world, in which meanings were communicated to humans by nonhuman realities. But since we moved into modernity, we also developed a “disenchanted” worldview in which it is impossible to communicate between humans and nonhumans.
Sociologists and philosophers say that, as the naturalist, materialist worldview has become preponderant in modern societies, the world has become "disenchanted", like an "iron cage".[1] This disenchantment is contrasted to other ontologies that see the world as "enchanted". What is an enchanted world? According to the philosopher Charles Taylor, in a disenchanted world, all meaning is "in our own mind". We give meanings to things, but, just as Sartre and Camus noted, there is no meaning intrinsic to anything in the world -- it's all in our minds. But in an enchanted world, not only is there meaning intrinsic to the world, to objects or to invisible agents (such as gods or spirits), but they can communicate meaning to us, even meanings and ideas that we would not expect.[2] In other words, in an enchanted world, we are in communication with the visible and invisible world around us, while in a disenchanted world, we only communicate with other humans.
The film Avatar dramatises the conflict between two ontologies: the materialist, disenchanted worldview of the humans, and the enchanted worldview of the Navis, whose imagined culture is inspired by anthropological accounts of the Indians of the Amazon. This culture is animist, in that it considers all beings to have human qualities of personhood.[3]
In the naturalist ontology of modern secular culture, the world, its beings and events may have meaning for humans, but in themselves they have no consciousness, no agency, and nothing to communicate to humans. Many human societies, on the other hand, have conceived of themselves as living in an “enchanted” world, in which people, animals, objects and invisible beings all have consciousness, agency, inter-communication and mutual influence. In this lecture, we will use anthropological cases and thought experiments to imagine what it might be like to live in an enchanted world, and analyse the process of disenchantment (and re-enchantments) in secular modernity. We will focus on a prevalent type of enchanted ontology – animism.
Animism is the third of three types of ontology I am introducing in this class:
- Naturalism: all beings share exteriority (the laws of nature), but only humans have interiority (subjectivity and agency);
- Analogism: all beings are composed of analogically connected elements; there is no strong distinction between interiority and exteriority (see Lecture 6);
- Animism: all beings share interiority (subjectivity and agency), but they have different exteriorities (bodies).
Animism
One type of enchanted worldview is called “animism”, which is the ontology of most hunting and gathering tribes, and which has inspired the depiction of the Navis' religion in the film Avatar. In an animist world, humans are not the only conscious beings. All beings, or at least many animals, plants and even landscape features, are endowed with consciousness, emotions, desires and intentions.
Animism is widespread among nomadic hunting and gathering bands of the Indians of North and South America, as well as in Africa, Siberia and other regions. In an animist world, the universe is populated by persons with consciousness, intention and human-like desires and emotions. However, the concept of a “person” here is not exclusively associated with a human body, as it is among us. The bodies of humans, animals, plants and trees, objects, mountains, stones and so on, can be compared to clothes which are worn and changed by persons. Thus, for example, a tiger can take the body of a human or vice versa (like an animagus in the Harry Potter novels). When persons die, they might take another (human or animal) body. Among the Inuit of Northern Canada, hunters were always careful to kill their prey in a most reverential and dignified manner, so that the soul of the animal, when it took a new body, would be willing to be killed again in future hunts. Otherwise, they would not let themselves be killed. In an animist world, since all beings are considered to be animated, conscious, and having feelings, all beings are “persons” that need to be treated with the care and reverence that humans give each other.[4]
Animism is a holistic view of the relationship between man and nature. People do not see themselves as the rulers of nature, but as inseparable components of the cosmos. They believe that humans have their proper place in the world, just as other living forms have their own places and roles. There is a sacred balance in this cosmos. Humans need to maintain this balance if they wish to survive. For example, among the Inuit hunters of the Canadian Arctic, before going out to hunt, the hunter would explain to the master spirit of the polar bear that the people need him for food and for clothing. In a respectful way, the hunter would ask the spirit of the animal to allow itself to be taken. After the kill, he would offer a song or words of thanksgiving for the animal’s self-sacrifice. If the animal was treated with respect and gratitude, it would reincarnate itself, and offer itself again at a future hunt. But if the humans hunt recklessly, forgetting to ask permission and to show gratitude, the animal spirits will not reincarnate, and there will be no more animals to hunt. This custom shows a deep sense of mutual dependence, reciprocity and respect between the human and animal worlds.[5]
In fact, in the animist worldview, all kinds of animals, rocks and everything all have subjectivity. They all have consciousness. They are all the same as us human beings – they think and perceive like human beings. The only difference between them and us is that they have different exterior appearances. Just like us changing clothes, animals can switch bodies. That’s why so many stories and legends talk about a human becoming a tiger, or becoming a bird – it is actually the same person switching bodies. They have the same interiority/subjectivity, but their bodies are like clothes that can be changed.
Some people imagine that if we lived in an animist world, we might stop eating animals, try to be humane to everything, and become minimalist in our consumption. But in fact, in most animist societies, they also hunt animals all the time. These are hunting societies, in which killing animals is a central part of life.
In the film Avatar, which can help us to imagine an animist world, the imagined animist world is where everybody is in harmony with nature. But we can see that in an animist society, the natural world is quite dangerous. These creatures with consciousness are not necessarily friendly to human beings. So a member of such a society must protect himself or herself from the danger of these creatures, while trying to establish a trusting relationship with them.
Let’s consider the example of the Inuit people in the far north of Canada. They are hunters. They don’t eat any vegetables, because there are no plants up there at all, but only bears, seals, whales and so on. They consider all these animals to have consciousness and intention, just like humans. So, as they come near their prey, before they throw the spear, they will look into the eyes of the animal. For example, when they hunt a deer, they will look into its eyes and ask, “Will you give your life to me, please? I need your life so that I can feed my family.” Then, that deer may run away – in that case, it means that the deer refuses the request. But it is possible that the deer doesn’t move, and the hunter can kill it. This means that the deer agreed to the request, and allowed itself to be killed. Now, the hunter must thank the deer, “Thank you for giving your life. You sacrificed your life for me, my family and my tribe.” And he will conduct a ritual, a kind of prayer, and give some kind of offering – to give something back to repay the deer for giving its life to the hunter. In return, the hunter, his family and his tribe must give something back to the soul of the deer. Failure to do so will upset the deer. It will think, ‘Hey, I gave you my life, but you just took it and didn’t even say thank you.” The deer might get angry; the angry deer’s soul will not come back, it will not be reborn in the form of another deer, and so there will be less deer in the future. However, if the hunter expresses his gratitude and makes an offering to the deer, then the soul of the deer will come back by being born as another deer. In this way, there will be more and more deer in the future – they will come back, and there will be food for the future generations of humans.[6]
In some sense, it is give and take, similar to guanxi (关系) relationships in China. If people do something good for you but you fail to return the favour, they might get quite angry and will not be good to you next time. Likewise, each time the hunter kills a deer without expressing gratitude and making offerings, this deer will not reincarnate in this world. Gradually, the chance of hunting a deer will become smaller and smaller. According to this Inuit worldview then, all these animals – the polar bear, the whale, the deer and so on – are getting upset that humans are coming and killing them without expressing gratitude or giving a gift in return. So, there are fewer and fewer polar bears, whales, deer and so on. The environment is depleting itself.
The point I wish to make here is that in the animist worldview, it’s not just about communication between humans and non-humans. Exchanges between humans and the nonhumans are expected – we give something to them, and they give something to us. It is like human interactions. We have to negotiate to help each other, because we can’t be completely independent; we depend on each other. So, for animists, not only do humans depend on each other, but all living beings do.
And this interdependence is not some abstract idea, like the naturalist notion of ecological balance. We are interdependent and have relationships with specific living beings in the forest, who have their own feelings. If we don’t respect them, then we will have problems. Sometimes, we have to help people or respect people we don’t like, but that’s what we have to do. And the same goes with animals. In an animist society, humans and animals don't love each other in some cute, cuddly, furry intimacy. In an animist worldview, living beings in the forest are often selfish, jealous, or angry. Just like humans, even selfish people need to negotiate and respect each other. A person always needs to consider that what he does might offend or upset someone or something around him.
When I walk down the streets of Hong Kong, which are so crowded, the least I do is that I try not to step on people’s feet, because I know people have consciousness and will get upset if I step onto their feet. I have to be careful. If I do step on people’s feet, I will immediately apologise at least. There shouldn’t be any problem, if we apologise in time. But if I am walking in the forest – in the animist worldview, I’m constantly “stepping on the feet” of trees, plants, rocks and everything – I might need to apologise constantly. Therefore, you will see different ways of doing rituals and shrines, and ways of expressing gratitude. The world, in the animist worldview, is not necessarily friendly. It might get rather nasty, if you don’t take good care of it. That’s what we see in Avatar.
Even when you build a house, maybe the earth is unhappy about people trampling on it or digging a hole. The earth is giving itself to you, you’re puncturing it, you’re cutting it, using it, so maybe you should say “I’m sorry for disturbing you, thank you for everything you are giving us”. That’s why everywhere in China, there are shrines – a little shrine and a stone – for the earth God (tudigong土地公). That’s where it comes from. You are always walking on this earth, which gives you fertility, your land, your crops, your food, your house, et cetera. The earth gives us so much, and people give something as a token of gratitude in return. People conduct ritual to express their thanks and respect; they burn incense and give offerings of food and wine. So, this is a kind of give-and-take relationship. It’s a process of relationship-building.
Avatar, in my view, is a very religious film. It shows the contrast between an enchanted world -- the animist world of the Na’vi -- and the disenchanted, materialist world of the human Corporation. It dramatizes the clash between these two ontologies or operating systems. Now, why is this film one of the most popular films ever produced? The reason is that it says something about people’s spiritual sensitivity and spiritual imagination. It’s not only because of the action in the film -- there are so many other good action films. When we watch this film, we usually take the side of the Na’vi, who are the good people. We don’t identify with the humans or the Corporation. We love the Na’vi, and want to be like the Na’vi.
Animism is widespread among nomadic hunting and gathering bands of the Indians of North and South America, as well as in Africa, Siberia and other regions. In an animist world, the universe is populated by persons with consciousness, intention and human-like desires and emotions. However, the concept of a “person” here is not exclusively associated with a human body, as it is among us. The bodies of humans, animals, plants and trees, objects, mountains, stones and so on, can be compared to clothes which are worn and changed by persons. Thus, for example, a tiger can take the body of a human or vice versa (like an animagus in the Harry Potter novels). When persons die, they might take another (human or animal) body. Among the Inuit of Northern Canada, hunters were always careful to kill their prey in a most reverential and dignified manner, so that the soul of the animal, when it took a new body, would be willing to be killed again in future hunts. Otherwise, they would not let themselves be killed. In an animist world, since all beings are considered to be animated, conscious, and having feelings, all beings are “persons” that need to be treated with the care and reverence that humans give each other.[4]
Animism is a holistic view of the relationship between man and nature. People do not see themselves as the rulers of nature, but as inseparable components of the cosmos. They believe that humans have their proper place in the world, just as other living forms have their own places and roles. There is a sacred balance in this cosmos. Humans need to maintain this balance if they wish to survive. For example, among the Inuit hunters of the Canadian Arctic, before going out to hunt, the hunter would explain to the master spirit of the polar bear that the people need him for food and for clothing. In a respectful way, the hunter would ask the spirit of the animal to allow itself to be taken. After the kill, he would offer a song or words of thanksgiving for the animal’s self-sacrifice. If the animal was treated with respect and gratitude, it would reincarnate itself, and offer itself again at a future hunt. But if the humans hunt recklessly, forgetting to ask permission and to show gratitude, the animal spirits will not reincarnate, and there will be no more animals to hunt. This custom shows a deep sense of mutual dependence, reciprocity and respect between the human and animal worlds.[5]
In fact, in the animist worldview, all kinds of animals, rocks and everything all have subjectivity. They all have consciousness. They are all the same as us human beings – they think and perceive like human beings. The only difference between them and us is that they have different exterior appearances. Just like us changing clothes, animals can switch bodies. That’s why so many stories and legends talk about a human becoming a tiger, or becoming a bird – it is actually the same person switching bodies. They have the same interiority/subjectivity, but their bodies are like clothes that can be changed.
Some people imagine that if we lived in an animist world, we might stop eating animals, try to be humane to everything, and become minimalist in our consumption. But in fact, in most animist societies, they also hunt animals all the time. These are hunting societies, in which killing animals is a central part of life.
In the film Avatar, which can help us to imagine an animist world, the imagined animist world is where everybody is in harmony with nature. But we can see that in an animist society, the natural world is quite dangerous. These creatures with consciousness are not necessarily friendly to human beings. So a member of such a society must protect himself or herself from the danger of these creatures, while trying to establish a trusting relationship with them.
Let’s consider the example of the Inuit people in the far north of Canada. They are hunters. They don’t eat any vegetables, because there are no plants up there at all, but only bears, seals, whales and so on. They consider all these animals to have consciousness and intention, just like humans. So, as they come near their prey, before they throw the spear, they will look into the eyes of the animal. For example, when they hunt a deer, they will look into its eyes and ask, “Will you give your life to me, please? I need your life so that I can feed my family.” Then, that deer may run away – in that case, it means that the deer refuses the request. But it is possible that the deer doesn’t move, and the hunter can kill it. This means that the deer agreed to the request, and allowed itself to be killed. Now, the hunter must thank the deer, “Thank you for giving your life. You sacrificed your life for me, my family and my tribe.” And he will conduct a ritual, a kind of prayer, and give some kind of offering – to give something back to repay the deer for giving its life to the hunter. In return, the hunter, his family and his tribe must give something back to the soul of the deer. Failure to do so will upset the deer. It will think, ‘Hey, I gave you my life, but you just took it and didn’t even say thank you.” The deer might get angry; the angry deer’s soul will not come back, it will not be reborn in the form of another deer, and so there will be less deer in the future. However, if the hunter expresses his gratitude and makes an offering to the deer, then the soul of the deer will come back by being born as another deer. In this way, there will be more and more deer in the future – they will come back, and there will be food for the future generations of humans.[6]
In some sense, it is give and take, similar to guanxi (关系) relationships in China. If people do something good for you but you fail to return the favour, they might get quite angry and will not be good to you next time. Likewise, each time the hunter kills a deer without expressing gratitude and making offerings, this deer will not reincarnate in this world. Gradually, the chance of hunting a deer will become smaller and smaller. According to this Inuit worldview then, all these animals – the polar bear, the whale, the deer and so on – are getting upset that humans are coming and killing them without expressing gratitude or giving a gift in return. So, there are fewer and fewer polar bears, whales, deer and so on. The environment is depleting itself.
The point I wish to make here is that in the animist worldview, it’s not just about communication between humans and non-humans. Exchanges between humans and the nonhumans are expected – we give something to them, and they give something to us. It is like human interactions. We have to negotiate to help each other, because we can’t be completely independent; we depend on each other. So, for animists, not only do humans depend on each other, but all living beings do.
And this interdependence is not some abstract idea, like the naturalist notion of ecological balance. We are interdependent and have relationships with specific living beings in the forest, who have their own feelings. If we don’t respect them, then we will have problems. Sometimes, we have to help people or respect people we don’t like, but that’s what we have to do. And the same goes with animals. In an animist society, humans and animals don't love each other in some cute, cuddly, furry intimacy. In an animist worldview, living beings in the forest are often selfish, jealous, or angry. Just like humans, even selfish people need to negotiate and respect each other. A person always needs to consider that what he does might offend or upset someone or something around him.
When I walk down the streets of Hong Kong, which are so crowded, the least I do is that I try not to step on people’s feet, because I know people have consciousness and will get upset if I step onto their feet. I have to be careful. If I do step on people’s feet, I will immediately apologise at least. There shouldn’t be any problem, if we apologise in time. But if I am walking in the forest – in the animist worldview, I’m constantly “stepping on the feet” of trees, plants, rocks and everything – I might need to apologise constantly. Therefore, you will see different ways of doing rituals and shrines, and ways of expressing gratitude. The world, in the animist worldview, is not necessarily friendly. It might get rather nasty, if you don’t take good care of it. That’s what we see in Avatar.
Even when you build a house, maybe the earth is unhappy about people trampling on it or digging a hole. The earth is giving itself to you, you’re puncturing it, you’re cutting it, using it, so maybe you should say “I’m sorry for disturbing you, thank you for everything you are giving us”. That’s why everywhere in China, there are shrines – a little shrine and a stone – for the earth God (tudigong土地公). That’s where it comes from. You are always walking on this earth, which gives you fertility, your land, your crops, your food, your house, et cetera. The earth gives us so much, and people give something as a token of gratitude in return. People conduct ritual to express their thanks and respect; they burn incense and give offerings of food and wine. So, this is a kind of give-and-take relationship. It’s a process of relationship-building.
Avatar, in my view, is a very religious film. It shows the contrast between an enchanted world -- the animist world of the Na’vi -- and the disenchanted, materialist world of the human Corporation. It dramatizes the clash between these two ontologies or operating systems. Now, why is this film one of the most popular films ever produced? The reason is that it says something about people’s spiritual sensitivity and spiritual imagination. It’s not only because of the action in the film -- there are so many other good action films. When we watch this film, we usually take the side of the Na’vi, who are the good people. We don’t identify with the humans or the Corporation. We love the Na’vi, and want to be like the Na’vi.
Back to Eden: the yearning for re-enchantment
In this interpretation, Avatar is talking about our own dreams, spiritual imagination, and struggles inside our own mindscapes when we live in a disenchanted, materialist world. We are somehow dissatisfied with that. Instead, we yearn for something else – a kind of enchantment, a deep and sacred connection with the world around us.
Although Avatar is a recent film, it reflects an old theme in Western mythology. It goes all the way back to the story of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were living in bliss. They were so close to God – the world of pure nature. They were there, in a blissful, divine garden. Then, they fell into sin, and were expelled from the garden due to their eating of the fruit of the tree of human knowledge – human concepts, ideas and desires. Then, the life of suffering began. They had to become farmers, build their own life, toil and work so hard. Isn’t that similar to the story of Avatar? The idea that we once lived in a state of spiritual purity, then, owing to an egotistical quest for knowledge, we ate of the tree of knowledge and were kicked out of paradise, and fell into the world of material needs, suffering and sin.
There is a comparable idea in Daoist thought, in the contrasting notions of pre-natal (xiantian 先天) and post-natal (houtian 后天), in which, in the process of life, through our egotistical desires and impure acts, we gradually drift away from our essential, spiritual xiantian nature -- the uncarved block -- a drift into turbidity and decline which leads unto death. In a sense, Daoism also has the idea of going back to the Daoist “Eden” – the world of the Immortal fairies or the world before birth -- the world in which we are truly who we are, connected to our divine essence. In both the Biblical and Daoist accounts, there is the idea that somehow, in our quest for material knowledge and civilization, we have lost our true selves. The idea is that our true self or soul is somehow connected to Dao or to God, to the world of the uncarved block, that hasn’t been polluted or corrupted – carved up by all these greedy and complex human ideas.
The theme comes again in the 18th-century European Enlightenment, in Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s romanticised imagination of the simplicity of nature, which sometimes earned him ridicule from his contemporaries. When Europeans went out exploring the Earth, they encountered and conquered tribes which they considered savage and uncivilised, and plundered their lands, just as the humans are doing to the Navis in Avatar. Most thinkers considered that this was the proof of the superior civilisation of the Europeans, and justified forcing them to abandon their way of life to adopt European culture. But Rousseau disagreed; he concluded that material civilisation had corrupted us, made us clever, crafty, dishonest, and inhumane. Therefore, we should forget the man-made culture. Instead, we should go back to primitive simplicity – just to be like these tribal people, wild and pure. Rousseau and others felt that these “savages” living simple lives had something in them, a purity, an authenticity, a humble simplicity which we, as modern people, have lost. So, we have an inner conflict, the guilt of the civilised man, who pushes forward in the quest for power and knowledge, but wonders if he is losing his soul in the process, and feels guilty about it.
The Na’vi are comparable to Adam and Eve in the garden, before the original sin. The people in the Corporation are human sinners, who have become disconnected from the garden, from the divine reality, from God, or from Dao. They cut themselves off, and have become very greedy. In a sense, Avatar is telling the same story again. This story is about an attempt to go back to Eden – we fell out of the garden and are dreaming of going back.[7]
The story in Avatar is inspired by real-life conflicts between mining companies and tribal societies in the forests of the Amazon in Brazil, Peru and Venezuela. The culture of the Navi is loosely inspired by anthropological accounts of these tribal societies' beliefs, and the film is inspired by the conflicts between modern mining companies and the indigenous people of the Amazon.
This clash presented in Avatar, is, to be sure, too extreme. The Navis are idealised, humans are demonised. The resolution of the conflict, with the Navis simply booting the humans out, is unrealistic. Although Avatar does a good job at presenting a stark contrast between naturalist and animist worldviews, which can help us to clarify the differences between them, it really says nothing about how to solve the conflict or reconcile the two. Are the material and spiritual dimensions of life so fundamentally opposed to each other? Is there no way to enjoy the fruits of material civilisation while maintaining our spiritual essence? Are there not many people, movements and governments who are working ceaselessly to end global warming, to fight against disease and poverty, to protect indigenous people, to seek for spiritual solutions? Does this not show that humans are capable of upholding a spiritual worldview in the midst of an advanced material civilisation?
One of the main themes of Avatar is thus the clash between spiritual and materialist worldviews. The clash between the humans and Navis reflects our own inner conflict, the conflict between our material desires and our spiritual aspirations, and that is one reason why the film has been so popular. It is a conflict that we experience in our own hearts and minds as individuals, and a conflict that we see in so many social issues today, whether it’s global warming, the rights of indigenous people, the protection of nature, and so on.
The clash between the spiritual and the material is an old theme in religious history. There is an old prophecy of the Zoroastrian religion of Iran, from two or three thousand years ago, which says that the development of humanity will go through three stages. The first stage is one of non-differentiation, like the primordial chaos (hundun 混沌) of Daoism, in which there is no clear distinction between the material and the spiritual. This corresponds to most primal and archaic human societies, in which the entire culture is enchanted and suffused with the sacred. Then, in the second stage, there is a struggle between duality, between the spiritual and the material. This began at what many scholars have called the “Axial Age”, around 700-200 BC, when in different parts of the world, prophets, wise men and philosophers – Zoroaster, Buddha, Socrates, Laozi, Confucius – all appeared and taught about transcendent spiritual principles, about the spiritual reality and life of the individual, and strongly contrasted a spiritual orientation with a life of material desires. We’ll explore this in a few weeks. Since then, many religious traditions have advocated leaving this world, going into a monastery, into a cave, in order to leave the material world and live a purely spiritual life. But in the third stage of the Zoroastrian prophecy, a new unity is attained, the spiritual and the material are integrated at a higher level.
Many students, in their comments in previous years, expressed the hope for such a unity at a higher level. Some scholars say that we are entering a new “axial age”, a new phase of spiritual and religious transformation. Perhaps this new phase will represent a search for a higher unity, as in the third stage of the Zoroastrian vision. Today, we have lost the balance between our spiritual and material lives. We know that we can’t continue in a society dominated by the uncontrolled pursuit of wealth and power, but we know that we can’t become Navis, nor do we really want to. We know that an extreme pursuit of spiritual worlds, ignoring material reality, would be dangerous as well. So how do we find a balance?
Although Avatar is a recent film, it reflects an old theme in Western mythology. It goes all the way back to the story of Adam and Eve in the garden of Eden. Adam and Eve were living in bliss. They were so close to God – the world of pure nature. They were there, in a blissful, divine garden. Then, they fell into sin, and were expelled from the garden due to their eating of the fruit of the tree of human knowledge – human concepts, ideas and desires. Then, the life of suffering began. They had to become farmers, build their own life, toil and work so hard. Isn’t that similar to the story of Avatar? The idea that we once lived in a state of spiritual purity, then, owing to an egotistical quest for knowledge, we ate of the tree of knowledge and were kicked out of paradise, and fell into the world of material needs, suffering and sin.
There is a comparable idea in Daoist thought, in the contrasting notions of pre-natal (xiantian 先天) and post-natal (houtian 后天), in which, in the process of life, through our egotistical desires and impure acts, we gradually drift away from our essential, spiritual xiantian nature -- the uncarved block -- a drift into turbidity and decline which leads unto death. In a sense, Daoism also has the idea of going back to the Daoist “Eden” – the world of the Immortal fairies or the world before birth -- the world in which we are truly who we are, connected to our divine essence. In both the Biblical and Daoist accounts, there is the idea that somehow, in our quest for material knowledge and civilization, we have lost our true selves. The idea is that our true self or soul is somehow connected to Dao or to God, to the world of the uncarved block, that hasn’t been polluted or corrupted – carved up by all these greedy and complex human ideas.
The theme comes again in the 18th-century European Enlightenment, in Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s romanticised imagination of the simplicity of nature, which sometimes earned him ridicule from his contemporaries. When Europeans went out exploring the Earth, they encountered and conquered tribes which they considered savage and uncivilised, and plundered their lands, just as the humans are doing to the Navis in Avatar. Most thinkers considered that this was the proof of the superior civilisation of the Europeans, and justified forcing them to abandon their way of life to adopt European culture. But Rousseau disagreed; he concluded that material civilisation had corrupted us, made us clever, crafty, dishonest, and inhumane. Therefore, we should forget the man-made culture. Instead, we should go back to primitive simplicity – just to be like these tribal people, wild and pure. Rousseau and others felt that these “savages” living simple lives had something in them, a purity, an authenticity, a humble simplicity which we, as modern people, have lost. So, we have an inner conflict, the guilt of the civilised man, who pushes forward in the quest for power and knowledge, but wonders if he is losing his soul in the process, and feels guilty about it.
The Na’vi are comparable to Adam and Eve in the garden, before the original sin. The people in the Corporation are human sinners, who have become disconnected from the garden, from the divine reality, from God, or from Dao. They cut themselves off, and have become very greedy. In a sense, Avatar is telling the same story again. This story is about an attempt to go back to Eden – we fell out of the garden and are dreaming of going back.[7]
The story in Avatar is inspired by real-life conflicts between mining companies and tribal societies in the forests of the Amazon in Brazil, Peru and Venezuela. The culture of the Navi is loosely inspired by anthropological accounts of these tribal societies' beliefs, and the film is inspired by the conflicts between modern mining companies and the indigenous people of the Amazon.
This clash presented in Avatar, is, to be sure, too extreme. The Navis are idealised, humans are demonised. The resolution of the conflict, with the Navis simply booting the humans out, is unrealistic. Although Avatar does a good job at presenting a stark contrast between naturalist and animist worldviews, which can help us to clarify the differences between them, it really says nothing about how to solve the conflict or reconcile the two. Are the material and spiritual dimensions of life so fundamentally opposed to each other? Is there no way to enjoy the fruits of material civilisation while maintaining our spiritual essence? Are there not many people, movements and governments who are working ceaselessly to end global warming, to fight against disease and poverty, to protect indigenous people, to seek for spiritual solutions? Does this not show that humans are capable of upholding a spiritual worldview in the midst of an advanced material civilisation?
One of the main themes of Avatar is thus the clash between spiritual and materialist worldviews. The clash between the humans and Navis reflects our own inner conflict, the conflict between our material desires and our spiritual aspirations, and that is one reason why the film has been so popular. It is a conflict that we experience in our own hearts and minds as individuals, and a conflict that we see in so many social issues today, whether it’s global warming, the rights of indigenous people, the protection of nature, and so on.
The clash between the spiritual and the material is an old theme in religious history. There is an old prophecy of the Zoroastrian religion of Iran, from two or three thousand years ago, which says that the development of humanity will go through three stages. The first stage is one of non-differentiation, like the primordial chaos (hundun 混沌) of Daoism, in which there is no clear distinction between the material and the spiritual. This corresponds to most primal and archaic human societies, in which the entire culture is enchanted and suffused with the sacred. Then, in the second stage, there is a struggle between duality, between the spiritual and the material. This began at what many scholars have called the “Axial Age”, around 700-200 BC, when in different parts of the world, prophets, wise men and philosophers – Zoroaster, Buddha, Socrates, Laozi, Confucius – all appeared and taught about transcendent spiritual principles, about the spiritual reality and life of the individual, and strongly contrasted a spiritual orientation with a life of material desires. We’ll explore this in a few weeks. Since then, many religious traditions have advocated leaving this world, going into a monastery, into a cave, in order to leave the material world and live a purely spiritual life. But in the third stage of the Zoroastrian prophecy, a new unity is attained, the spiritual and the material are integrated at a higher level.
Many students, in their comments in previous years, expressed the hope for such a unity at a higher level. Some scholars say that we are entering a new “axial age”, a new phase of spiritual and religious transformation. Perhaps this new phase will represent a search for a higher unity, as in the third stage of the Zoroastrian vision. Today, we have lost the balance between our spiritual and material lives. We know that we can’t continue in a society dominated by the uncontrolled pursuit of wealth and power, but we know that we can’t become Navis, nor do we really want to. We know that an extreme pursuit of spiritual worlds, ignoring material reality, would be dangerous as well. So how do we find a balance?
Enchanting the world of nature: perspectives from the world’s religious traditions
Throughout the ages, from tribal traditions to the scriptures of the great world religions, the purpose of the world of nature and its relationship with man has been a recurring theme. Regardless of the time and origin of these cultures and traditions, to varying degrees, the world is enchanted -- it always has a sacred or spiritual significance. This sacred dimension is expressed through rituals, laws, and concepts that orient humans’ attitude and actions towards nature.
A materialistic view of nature places instrumental human desires at the centre of concern. In this view, the natural world has no intrinsic value of its own; it is only valuable when it is used as resources to satisfy human needs. A spiritual perspective sees material existence as connected to a spiritual reality, which is the source of its intrinsic value and significance. It sees man as integrally connected to the world of nature, and not separate from it. Humans have their own sacred role and significance within the world of nature. Seeing humans as part of a whole, and knowing that individual action has an impact on the whole organic system, impels one to approach nature and the environment with respect, care and appreciation. For example, attraction to beauty is an expression of the spiritual nature of man. This inner yearning for beauty and perfection manifests itself in love for the majesty and diversity of nature. The physical world is seen as a reflection of the spiritual world. Knowledge of the material world is a gateway to knowledge of the spiritual world.
From a materialistic perspective on nature, the responsibility to apply certain rules and regulations to protect the environment is considered a “restriction” on human action that carries significant costs and trade-offs. From a spiritually inspired view, such “restrictions” are opportunities to cultivate our spiritual capacities. Responsibility, wisdom, self-discipline, detachment, appreciation and nurturing of beauty -- these capacities are expressions of our spiritual nature. They uplift us to scale greater spiritual highs, to transcend ourselves and attain closer proximity to the divine.
A materialistic view of nature places instrumental human desires at the centre of concern. In this view, the natural world has no intrinsic value of its own; it is only valuable when it is used as resources to satisfy human needs. A spiritual perspective sees material existence as connected to a spiritual reality, which is the source of its intrinsic value and significance. It sees man as integrally connected to the world of nature, and not separate from it. Humans have their own sacred role and significance within the world of nature. Seeing humans as part of a whole, and knowing that individual action has an impact on the whole organic system, impels one to approach nature and the environment with respect, care and appreciation. For example, attraction to beauty is an expression of the spiritual nature of man. This inner yearning for beauty and perfection manifests itself in love for the majesty and diversity of nature. The physical world is seen as a reflection of the spiritual world. Knowledge of the material world is a gateway to knowledge of the spiritual world.
From a materialistic perspective on nature, the responsibility to apply certain rules and regulations to protect the environment is considered a “restriction” on human action that carries significant costs and trade-offs. From a spiritually inspired view, such “restrictions” are opportunities to cultivate our spiritual capacities. Responsibility, wisdom, self-discipline, detachment, appreciation and nurturing of beauty -- these capacities are expressions of our spiritual nature. They uplift us to scale greater spiritual highs, to transcend ourselves and attain closer proximity to the divine.
Daoism
From a Daoist perspective, all beings are emanations from the dao, and a common life force circulates among all beings, linking them together in a single flow. Nurturing one’s own life is inseparable from nurturing other life forms. It is from the harmonious interactions between life forms, in harmony with dao, that life flourishes. Disease, misfortune and death are consequences of disrupting the flow of the life-force, of a lack of harmony or connection with other beings. From this perspective, the life of one being is inseparable from the life of all beings. We need to understand how dao and vital forces operate in our own mind, body and in the world around us; we need to nurture their vitality and align our life with them.
Empty the self completely;
Embrace perfect peace.
The World will rise and move;
Watch it return to rest.
All the flourishing things
Will return to their source.
This return is peaceful;
It is the way of Nature,
An eternal decay and renewal.
Understanding this brings enlightenment,
Ignorance of this brings misery.
Who understands Nature's way becomes all-cherishing;
Being all-cherishing he becomes impartial;
Being impartial he becomes magnanimous;
Being magnanimous he becomes part of Nature;
Being part of Nature he becomes one with Dao;
Being one with Dao he becomes immortal:
Though his body will decay, Dao will not.
-Laozi (ch. 16).
Embrace perfect peace.
The World will rise and move;
Watch it return to rest.
All the flourishing things
Will return to their source.
This return is peaceful;
It is the way of Nature,
An eternal decay and renewal.
Understanding this brings enlightenment,
Ignorance of this brings misery.
Who understands Nature's way becomes all-cherishing;
Being all-cherishing he becomes impartial;
Being impartial he becomes magnanimous;
Being magnanimous he becomes part of Nature;
Being part of Nature he becomes one with Dao;
Being one with Dao he becomes immortal:
Though his body will decay, Dao will not.
-Laozi (ch. 16).
Buddhism
From a Buddhist perspective, all beings are impermanent, ephemeral clusters of matter, attributes and consciousness that come and go in an endless cycle of transformation. The qualities and components of humans dissolve at death and are recomposed in the form of other beings, which may be plants, animals or humans. Thus, each of us is formed out of other beings, and will be decomposed and recomposed into other beings. We all form a single, eternally changing chain of being. When we are awakened to this reality, we feel loving compassion for all beings. Any egotistical intent or harmful act, will return back to us through the law of karmic consequences. We thus need to nurture all living beings.
Christianity
From a Christian perspective, the world of creation can be seen as a sacred trust from God to man. Therefore, as the trustee of this divine gift, man should treat the divine creation as his most precious bestowal. The Old Testament sees man as God’s representative on earth, responsible for filling it with human beings and managing the other living creatures. Because he is made in God’s image, man must display divine qualities in dealing with his fellow creatures, showing care and justice towards God’s creation.
“But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you;
or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,
or let the fish in the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know
that the hand of the Lord has done this?
In his hand is the life of every creature
and the breath of all mankind.
The Holy Bible (New International Version, Job 12:7-10)
or the birds in the sky, and they will tell you;
or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,
or let the fish in the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know
that the hand of the Lord has done this?
In his hand is the life of every creature
and the breath of all mankind.
The Holy Bible (New International Version, Job 12:7-10)
Islam
In the Islamic tradition, the world of creation is considered to be replete with signs of God, a mirror that reflects His divine Message. Everything in nature has a divine meaning and purpose. Humans have the capacity to use their reason to know God through His signs. People of understanding see the signs of God in nature, and are inspired by nature to reflect on the knowledge, power and beauty of God. Therefore, man has a sacred obligation to respect, observe and learn from nature, the creation of God.
Behold! in the creation of the heavens and the earth;
in the alternation of the night and the day;
in the sailing of the ships through the ocean for the profit of mankind;
in the rain which God sends down from the skies,
and the life which He gives therewith to an earth that is dead;
in the beasts of all kinds that He scatters through the earth;
in the change of the winds,
and the clouds which they trail like their slaves between the sky and the earth;
(Here) indeed are Signs for the people of intellect.
-- The Qu’ran (2:164)
in the alternation of the night and the day;
in the sailing of the ships through the ocean for the profit of mankind;
in the rain which God sends down from the skies,
and the life which He gives therewith to an earth that is dead;
in the beasts of all kinds that He scatters through the earth;
in the change of the winds,
and the clouds which they trail like their slaves between the sky and the earth;
(Here) indeed are Signs for the people of intellect.
-- The Qu’ran (2:164)
Although there are differences between each of these enchanted perspectives, they all have in common an understanding that the world of nature has an intrinsic spiritual value, and that it either directly communicates with humans, or that it reflects sacred or divine significance to us. The expression of our own spiritual nature as humans, involves a sacred appreciation, respect and connection with the spiritual nature and significance of the natural world.
The whole universe reflecteth His glory,
while He is independent of,
and transcendeth His creatures.
Every created thing in the whole universe is
but a door leading into His knowledge,
a sign of His sovereignty,
a revelation of His names,
a symbol of His majesty,
a token of His power,
a means of admittance into His straight path.
-- Baha’u’llah (Gleanings, LXXXII).
while He is independent of,
and transcendeth His creatures.
Every created thing in the whole universe is
but a door leading into His knowledge,
a sign of His sovereignty,
a revelation of His names,
a symbol of His majesty,
a token of His power,
a means of admittance into His straight path.
-- Baha’u’llah (Gleanings, LXXXII).
[1] Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism.
[2] Taylor, A Secular Age, 33.
[3] The course webpage for the film can be found at http://cchu9014.weebly.com/film-avatar.html
[4] See Ivakhiv, “On Animism, Multinaturalism, & Cosmopolitics.” for a discussion of the latest concepts and debates of anthropologists and philosophers on animism:
[5] For a discussion of the synergistic relationship between hunters and prey in many indigenous cultures, see Ingold, The Perception of the Environment., esp. ch. 4 on interspecies trust and domination, and ch. 7 on animism.
[6] Ibid.
[7] If you read the Avatar page on the course website, which I suggest you to do, you will find many ideas that connect Avatar to many different spiritual and religious ideas.
[2] Taylor, A Secular Age, 33.
[3] The course webpage for the film can be found at http://cchu9014.weebly.com/film-avatar.html
[4] See Ivakhiv, “On Animism, Multinaturalism, & Cosmopolitics.” for a discussion of the latest concepts and debates of anthropologists and philosophers on animism:
[5] For a discussion of the synergistic relationship between hunters and prey in many indigenous cultures, see Ingold, The Perception of the Environment., esp. ch. 4 on interspecies trust and domination, and ch. 7 on animism.
[6] Ibid.
[7] If you read the Avatar page on the course website, which I suggest you to do, you will find many ideas that connect Avatar to many different spiritual and religious ideas.
References
Ingold, Tim. The Perception of the Environment: Essays on Livelihood, Dwelling & Skill. London; New York: Routledge, 2000.
Ivakhiv, Adrian J. “On Animism, Multinaturalism, & Cosmopolitics.” Immanence, 2011. http://blog.uvm.edu/aivakhiv/2011/01/10/on-animism-multinaturalism-cosmopolitics/.
Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Harvard University Press, 2007.
Weber, Max. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism: And Other Writings. Translated by Peter Baehr and Gordon C. Wells. Penguin, 2002.
Ivakhiv, Adrian J. “On Animism, Multinaturalism, & Cosmopolitics.” Immanence, 2011. http://blog.uvm.edu/aivakhiv/2011/01/10/on-animism-multinaturalism-cosmopolitics/.
Taylor, Charles. A Secular Age. Harvard University Press, 2007.
Weber, Max. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism: And Other Writings. Translated by Peter Baehr and Gordon C. Wells. Penguin, 2002.