No Self, No Problem: How Neuropsychology Is Catching Up to Buddhism

by Chris Niebauer

Turning inward for a moment, let's consider how this categorization mechanism might be employed by the left brain to create a sense of self. For instance, think of all the ways in which you can answer the question “who are you?” Most people in my shoes would say things like, “I am a man, a father, a husband, a professor, an author,” etc. But if you really look, while all of these things point to ways in which I can categorize myself, they don't actually answer the question, “who am I?” Is that because the “I” that I am looking for is more akin to the university or the country of Canada? Sure, the physical entity of my body and my brain is there, but the “I” attached to it only exists as a thought—and only when I think it. Is it possible that you can't definitively answer this question because the “I” you are addressing isn't a thing?

Furthermore, the left brain's obsession with categories also provides a nice example of how the left brain can tie itself in knots. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? If God created everything, who created God? The deeper you go, the more you are tied up in a causality dilemma with infinite regress.

Categories are created by taking something continuous and drawing the proverbial line in the sand to separate one into two. The placement of this line requires a judgment. Without judgment, categories could not exist. In fact, one could go so far as to say the next closest word for interpreter would be judge (but without the moral aspect of judgment). To interpret is to judge things, and there is no way around this. Exactly where along the continuum of temperature does cold become hot? When do you get offended? When does good become evil? When does something become a catastrophe? A failure? When does being poor become being rich? When does happiness become sadness? Where do you draw the line for any and all of these?

Simply becoming aware of the interpreter and the endless categories it creates through judgment frees you from being tied to the inevitability of these judgments. That is to say, when you become conscious of the interpreter, you are free to choose to no longer take its interpretations so seriously. In other words, when you realize that everyone's brain is constantly interpreting, in ways that are subjective and often inaccurate or completely incorrect, you might find yourself able to grasp this as “just my opinion” or “the way I see it” rather than “this is the way it is.” You begin to see your judgments as simply a different line in the sand than others. When someone approaches you with a “this is the way it is” attitude, you can appreciate that this person is dominated by the left brain, that they are a servant to its master. As a result, there is no need to take their actions or attitudes personally; it's a biological function that they have not yet recognized. This small perspective shift is enough to change how we live with each other and ourselves.

Let's look at how being overly identified with a belief system can cause suffering. What is the major source of conflict between people? Why do we fight each other? Turn on any news channel and you can confirm the intense suffering that occurs due to opposing belief systems. People die and kill for beliefs all the time, but not just any beliefs—only the ones they believe in without recognizing that they are only beliefs. This is how the interpreter confuses actual reality with a thought-based belief, and it is simply another example of the map/territory mistake. The left-brain interpreter not only creates and maintains these assumptions of the world, but makes them feel as though they are truly how the world really is. This is very unsettling when you consider the left brain's ability to make up stories that have absolutely nothing to do with reality, as case studies have shown.

Identity is merely a pattern of events in time and space. Change the pattern and you have changed the person.

There is also some evidence that neurotransmitters affect our pattern-perception capability. Because of this, it is important to note that the two sides of the brain differ in terms of their neurochemistry.6 The left brain is dominant for dopamine, whereas the right brain is dominant for serotonin and norepinephrine. There are many functions associated with dopamine that range from the euphoria of falling in love to the movements of the body. Since the 1950s, it has also been thought that schizophrenia is the result of too much dopamine. One of the hallmarks of schizophrenia is seeing patterns that are not there, that is to say hallucinations.

The tendency of the self to defend its own image through more thinking is a hallmark of understanding in Buddhism. Experienced meditators describe how in meditation, as the mind begins to still and the voice in the head speaks less frequently, there is often a rush of thoughts that are most important to sustaining the self-image. This is how meditators can notice what mental stories and thought patterns are their most prevalent preoccupations, as the mind reverts to replaying these topics as a defense against slowing down. Some Eastern teachers explain that the mind “keeps talking” in this way because it's the only way it can exist. This is consistent with my view that the self is more like a verb than a noun. It only exists when we think it does, because the process of thinking creates it.

The great tragedy here is that we never realize that none of these conditions will ever be met completely to the satisfaction of the self because the self must continue to think in order to stay in existence and therefore will always change the measuring stick—always adding a new “better” to fall short of.

Another way to think of the fictional self or ego is that its addiction to interpreting works like a drug. Every day it needs to get its fix, and it does that in a variety of ways: telling stories about what it perceives, comparing and categorizing itself again others, judging things as right or wrong—and it uses all of these processes to define “you” as “yourself.”

Noting just how many “yous” appear in a day works to dismantle the illusion of a singular “you” behind it all. A sense of freedom can emerge from the realization that you are under no obligation to be consistent. You need not try to glue the continuous change in the world into one single thing. Anger may appear with one “you,” but that is only one page of the flip-book, which will soon be replaced with another emotion, another perception, another thought. Like the sun rising and setting, these “yous” will come and go. There is no need to cling to some and avoid others.

If mental suffering has any benefit, perhaps it is to help you wake up to the game, to the grand drama that is this existence.