Knowledge or Information

avidyaàjévanaàçünyaàdik-çünyäçcaabändhaväù

putra-hénaàgåhaàçünyaàsarva-çünyädaridratä

Life without knowledge is empty, and all directions are void for those without friends. Household life without a son is void, and for the poor the whole world is void.

In the contemporary world we often equate knowledge with information. But according to the Vedas real knowledge is not merely a database of facts and figures; it is a practical method for solving our problems.

We are drowning in an endless ocean of information. Modern man prides himself as well-informed, in fact he claims to be the best informed person in the whole history of mankind. This is usually viewed as a sign of progress; but what part of this information is actually useful in our practical day to day life and can it actually resolve our real problems?

Well, first of all, what are these real problems of life? War? Famine? Crime? The social and economical unrest? The environmental crises? Terrorism? To answer these questions we need real knowledge and not just information.

The difference between knowledge and information resembles the difference between philosophy and science. Science is mainly concerned with making human life easier by offering a constant flow of new technological solutions. Philosophy, on the other hand, is supposed to deal with the question “What is the purpose of human life?” In his book “Substance and Shadow” Suhotra Swami pinpoints the problem:

Scientists are often heard to dismiss the speculations of these great thinkers [the philosophers] as unreliable. But they should not dismiss the original purpose of philosophy, which is to explain information,to probe beneath the surface data that makes up the world of bodily objects. Philosophy grapples with the why of the world. If…this is irrelevant to today's scientists, then science only informs. Though by the grace of science today's world is perhaps better informed than it ever has been, there is no certain metaphysical foundation to all this information. The result is information chaos.

The American writer Fred Reed shares similar thoughts on the matter:

Science enjoys great prestige as it has led to great results, such as iPhones. Perhaps because of this scientists, for some reason thought to be smarter than the rest of humanity, are seen as oracles and almost as priests. Yet they have nothing to say, and can have nothing to say about meaning, purpose, origins, destiny, consciousness, beauty, right and wrong, Good and Evil, death, love or loathing.

Trouble begins when one tries to stretch a system beyond its premises. Here we come to scientism, as distinct from science. A great many people, some of them scientists, want science to explain everything whatever. This of course is the function of a religion.

Scientism, like other varieties of political correctness, is de rigueur among much of the cognitive or approximately cognitive elite, and has been inculcated in the populace by endless repetition. The credo runs roughly: Big Bang, stars form, planets, oceans, life, evolution, Manhattan. Acceptance—unexamined acceptance—of scientism is now regarded as evidence of right thinking. Most who accept it have no idea what they are accepting, but they know that it is the proper thing to do.

For much of the public, this is a sort of religion by Disney, “the Force Be With You”, with an origin of the universe that, well, you know, the scientists understand it, and we are evolving upward and onward into like, better beings and all. And death? Let us speak of other things.

Information, of course, can be useful in many ways. But if information (we are using the word as a synonym to modern science) does not give solution to the core problems of life (how to eradicate birth, death, old age, and disease) it is dismissed by the Vedic sages asno better than refined ignorance. The inherent inability of materialistic science to solve the real problems of life led an increasing number of people to doubt even the need of the whole scientific enterprise. A noted philosopher of science, Paul Feyerbend commented, “It is good to be constantly reminded of the fact that science as we know it today is not inescapable and that we may construct a world in which it plays no role whatsoever (such a world, I venture to suggest, would be more pleasant than the world we live in today.”Many would disagree with Feyerbend by pointing out that science and technology gave us more power and control than anything in the past. Nonetheless, even they would have to admit that modern science is dangerously imperfect. As the American educator and cultural critic Neil Postman remarks in his book “The End of Education”,

Its story of our origins and of our end is, to say the least, unsatisfactory. To the question, How did it all begin?, science answers, Probably by accident. To the question, How will it all end?, science answers, Probably by an accident. And to many people, the accidental life is not worth living. Moreover, regarding the question, What moral instruction do you give us?, the science-god maintains tight-lipped silence. It places itself at the service of both the beneficent and the cruel and its grand moral impartiality, if not, indifference, has made it welcome the world over.

The Vedic version is that real knowledge will make life happy instead of complicated. Many of us confuse happy life with complicated life. As pointed out by Neil Postman in his book “Technopoly – The Surrender of Culture to Technology”,

To the question ‘What problem does the information solve?’ the answer is usually How to generate, store, and distribute more information, more conveniently, at greater speeds than ever before…For what purpose or with what limitations, it is not for us to ask; and we are not accustomed to asking, since the problem is unprecedented.

The Vedic sages urge us to ask precisely this question, “unprecedented” in the modern world: “What is the meaning of all this informational chaos? Is there anything beyond producing and consuming goods?” The actual answer to this question constitutes real knowledge. This knowledge has three parts: 1) Knowledge of ourselves and our relationship with God and the Universe, 2) Knowledge of the ultimate goal of human existence, and 3) The method for attaining this goal.

One cannot solve these problems relying on mental faculties or empirical data. Thus real knowledge is necessarily transcendent. It must come down from a perfect source outside the matrix of our limited material experience and reasoning. As the Austrian philosopher Ludwig Wittgenstein said, “The sense of the world must be outside of the world”. In this connection Fred Reed urges us:

Note that the premises of the sciences, if accepted other than provisionally for a particular investigation, lead to paradoxes, as for example the Aquarium Effect. Scientists view the universe as if it were an isolated system in a vast aquarium. They can look at it, poke at it with sticks and instruments, but they are apart from it. If they regard themselves as being within the system, problems arise.

For example, the brain is an electrochemical mechanism, all parts of which follow the laws of physics and chemistry. Successive states of a physical mechanism are completely determined by preceding states, just as they are in a computer. Physical systems cannot choose their behavior: a rock when dropped cannot decide to fall sideways. Our thoughts are therefore predestined. Are they then still thoughts?

Which leads to the obvious conclusion that one cannot simultaneously be part of a physical system and fully understand it. Like conjugate variables or something. But we are part of the universe.

According to the Vedas we are indeed “part of the universe”, and thus incapable of acquiring perfect knowledge, only until we choose to ignore God. However this is not our constitutional position. Originally we are spiritual, eternal beings, parts and parcels of God, who is the creator and controller of all the Universes. Our objective is to reestablish our loving relationships with Him and the way to do this is by performing devotional service for His pleasure. Without this type of knowledge we will, sooner or later, find our life empty.

Real knowledge is never merely theoretical, it is meant to be applied in life and to produce good results. The Vedic sage Narada Muni famously said that the ultimate result of all studies should be development of good qualities. Similarly in the Bhagavad-gita Lord Krishna defines knowledge as virtues:

Humility; pridelessness; nonviolence; tolerance; simplicity; approaching a bona fide spiritual master; cleanliness; steadiness; self-control; renunciation of the objects of sense gratification; absence of false ego; the perception of the evil of birth, death, old age and disease; detachment; freedom from entanglement with children, wife, home and the rest; even-mindedness amid pleasant and unpleasant events; constant and unalloyed devotion to Me; aspiring to live in a solitary place; detachment from the general mass of people; accepting the importance of self-realization; and philosophical search for the Absolute Truth—all these I declare to be knowledge, and besides this whatever there may be is ignorance.

If knowledge culminates in devotion to God and a good character, lack of knowledge must result in godlessness and vice which naturally leads to degradation of human relationships. Many people today will agree that if we don’t have at least one real friend our life is empty. Who is a real friend? The one who is willing to help us in a difficult moment. That rules out the thousands of our so-called friends in the social networks. This type of facebook “friends” are really cheap, they will not be there for us in adversity. Of course, we won’t be there for them either. This is because friendship is not formed by simply clicking the virtual button for “sending or accepting an invitation”; developing actual friendship requires a serious amount of knowledge, time, energy, and commitment. Usually we don’t mind having thousands of cheap friends online until a time of need comes and we realize that we can’t count on them. This is neatly summed up by Brad Pit’s character in the movie “The Counselor”: “If your definition of a friend is somebody who is ready to die for you, then you have no friends.”

All valuable things in life have a price and require time. But since we are very busy trying to have fun, we don’t have the time and energy to invest in the actual values. Instead we are content with the cheap, “practical” substitutes for everything, from food to friendship, family, and love. We are in the position of a person who wants to possess a precious gem, but does not want to pay the price for it.

In the ultimate sense, the real friend can help us by pointing out our real problems and by giving the solution. In Bhagavad-gita our best friend, God himself, informs us that there are four main problems in our life: “janma-måtyu-jarä-vyädhi”–birth, death, old age and disease. There are no material solutions to these problems. The only possible solution is spiritual: by developing spiritual consciousness we can transfer ourselves to a higher, spiritual dimension, were these problems do not exist. Material problems pertain to the material body and they trouble us as long as we persist in our wrong identification with matter. As soon as we realize that we are not dull matter but pure spirit soul, our material anxieties cease to exist. Then only can we enjoy life to the fullest extend and this enjoyment is found in the pure loving relationships which the soul exchanges with God.

According to Chanakya Pandit another reason for living an empty life is poverty. But how do we define poverty? We find that some people enjoy simple, happy life, while some others, although rich and affluent, suffer from isolation and depression. In this sense only those who have mastered the art of being content with whatever destiny offers them are truly happy. According to Srimad Bhagavatam the lack of satisfaction is dangerous even for persons who are materially advanced:

Many persons with varied experience, many legal advisers, many learned scholars and many persons eligible to become presidents of learned assemblies fall down into hellish life because of not being satisfied with their positions.

Bhaktivedanta Swami, the foremost proponent of the Vedic wisdom in our age, writes in this connection:

For spiritual advancement, one should be materially satisfied, for if one is not materially satisfied, his greed for material development will result in the frustration of his spiritual advancement. There are two things that nullify all good qualities. One is poverty. Daridra-doñoguëa-räçi-näçé. If one is poverty-stricken, all his good qualities become null and void. Similarly, if one becomes too greedy, his good qualifications are lost. Therefore the adjustment is that one should not be poverty-stricken, but one must try to be fully satisfied with the bare necessities of life and not be greedy.

The great sage Chanakya tells us that there is yet another reason for an empty life – the lack of a son in the family. According to the Vedas death is not the end but merely a change of the body. If one follows his religious duties properly, in his next life he is promoted to higher realms in the Universe. In order to stay there longer, his descendants should continuously perform Vedic ritualistic ceremonies to please the managers of the Universal affairs. Or, in a case when after death the father goes to the lower regions, the son can save him from there by performing a special rite.

Besides that, according to Vedic culture (which includes the ancient European tradition too) the son imbibes the father’s skills and occupation, inherits the father’s property, pays off his debts and takes care of the rest of the family, accomplishing whatever the father couldn’t. Such a son is traditionally accepted as an expansion of the father’s personality. For example according to the Vedic tradition a widow is not really a widow, if she has a son since the son is a representative of the father. In the East and West the daughter did not inherit the father’s assets (unless she was the only child), nor she could perform religious duties like funeral rites and sacrifice to forefathers on her own; she belonged to the family of her husband.

Therefore the begetting of a pious and obedient son is very important in the Vedic society.

The seven mothers of man

One's own mother, the wife of the guru, the wife of a brähmaëa, the wife of a king, the cow, the nurse, and the earth are known as the seven mothers of a man.

If someone asks us “How many mothers you have?”, we will most probably reply “What do you mean? Everybody can possibly have one mother only.” This is a normal reply in the contemporary world where we are used to minimize our true relationships and the accompanying responsibilities and to maximize our fun-time.

We like to use things and people according to our plans. Sometimes we do not even see so much of a difference between things and people; for us they are rather all commodities. It is instructive to observe how often people surround themselves with commodities (in the form of persons, animals, plants, or gadgets) expecting that this will make them happy, and at the same time complaining that they are feeling lonely and unable to express themselves. It is only natural to feel depressed when one’s value system places facilities over relationships. The real happiness in life is always connected with having deep and meaningful interaction with other human beings. This, however, is impossible if humans have been reduced to the status of things at the very beginning. The amount of pleasure in such dealings is so scanty and its nature so twisted, that it quickly turns into despair.

By now it should be clear why in the ancient Vedic civilization people accepted that they have not just one but seven mothers. Acknowledging the relationships with a wider range of living entities means acknowledging our dependence and indebtedness to them. This is a sign of a truly advanced civilization.

Of course, everybody will agree that we are indebted to our parents for all the obvious reasons. They gave us life, they took care of us when we were helpless in our early age and they were our first teachers. Our father provided for the family, endeavored to bring us up as human beings, thought us the difference between proper and improper. Our mother breastfed us and nourished us with her unconditional love. But how many real mothers do we actually have?

In our western society we traditionally paid homage to three of the mothers mentioned by Chanakya – the mother who gave us birth, the Queen, and the nurse. In medieval Europe the Queen was supposed to be respected as a model of decency, example of chastity and perfect behavior, whom the citizens adored and served with deep gratitude. Traditionally the nurses in Europe were also honored; they were accepted as part of the family and addressed as “mothers”. They enjoyed respect and good facilities.

The fact that ancient Indian and European traditions shared similar values is not surprising when we consider that in the past they were part of one big family, known as Aryan civilization. The term Aryan does not refer to a certain race or ethnic group, rather it denotes a person who is advanced in culture.

According to the culture of Vedic India planet Earth is also our mother. Ancient European culture shared this understanding too. Unfortunately we, the modern people both in the East and the West, abandoned this understanding long ago. For many of us earth is simply a warehouse of resources we feel we are entitled to exploit. As a result, human beings are the only species known to science which destroys its own habitat. Polluting and destroying our home, planet earth, is the price we must pay for adhering to the slogan of the first world countries: exploit, produce, and consume. The more the better. One of the problems with this agenda is that although the desires for gratifying the senses by producing and consuming seem to be unlimited, the recourses of our planet are limited.

The cow is also our mother because, just as our real mother, she feeds us with her milk. According to the Vedic tradition, the cow’s milk is very important because its regular consumption helps in producing finer tissues in the human brain by which we can understand the subtle laws of nature and the goal of human life. In gratitude, after taking her milk for 3-5 years, the cow is simply slaughtered. To slaughter mercilessly one’s own mother after exploiting her is hardly a sign of a civilized society. But the problem is elegantly resolved: who ever said that cow is our mother? (Besides some old-fashioned superstitious believers from the underdeveloped India.) After all, the cows, just like everything else, are simply commodities. Thus we whimsically ascribe values to living entities and things around us according to our plan to use them, instead of accepting them as they are. Therefore many modern men and women are against the notion that there exists a God’s design and plan for the Universe. (Unless, of course, this plan is that He let us control and enjoy all of our survey.)

Opposed to this consummative and exploitive approach towards anything that can be exploited, the Vedas offer a sophisticated culture of respect, gratitude and acknowledgment of our connection and indebtedness to all. Rather than boasting about our rights, the ancient sages of India put more emphasis on our obligations, knowing well that society can run smoothly only when everybody follows their duties properly. For example, in Srimad Bhagavatam, acknowledged as the ripened fruit of all Vedic scriptures, it is said that from the moment of birth everybody is already indebted to so many living entities: the great sages, ordinary living beings, relatives, friends, mankind and one's ancestors.

As a general principle, we are indebted to anybody who produced something in the past that we use and enjoy now. For example, if we are, let’s say, students at a University we are indebted to the University’s founders, the first university professors, students, sponsors, builders, cleaners, maintainers and everybody who helped and helps in establishing and advancing the institution over the years.

We are indebted to the great philosophers for the wisdom and good instructions recorded by them in the books of knowledge. This mood was encapsulated by Isaac Newton when he famously said: “If I have seen further, it is by standing on the shoulders of giants.”

We are indebted to our parents and other relatives for all the care and facilities we received or inherited from them. We are indebted to our friends for the support they give us in difficult moments, and to mankind for the simple fact that there exists a human society where we can pursue our goals and have protection and meaningful relationships. We are indebted also for the sunlight and fresh air, the pure water that quenches our thirst, for the beauty of nature and for the very fact that we exist and are able to appreciate all that.

We cannot always pretend that all these debts do not exist. At one point in our lives we will have to face the reality that we are indebted to much more entities that we care to acknowledge. And, needless to say, debts must be paid on time, otherwise the interests grow.

Acknowledging our indebtedness to others is connected with cultivation of respect for the seniors. Just 30-40 years ago our own western culture was paying much more attention to offering proper respect to all. For example, in my schooldays in the 1980’s we had to greet our teachers upon their entrance in the classroom by standing up. It is interesting that according to the Vedic custom, when a superior person enters the room, he should be honored in the same way. This culture of offering respect to the teacher (or as he is known in the Vedic culture - the Guru, or a brähmaëa) is essential for the proper education and schooling. Showing respect to our teachers proves that we are worthy of their attention and a fit candidate for receiving wisdom.

In order to attain success in life we always depend on the good advice and training received from those who are already successful. They can teach us how to become like them. This applies to all spheres of knowledge, material and spiritual. Without cultivating a genuine feeling of respect and service attitude for those who are superior, we can never attain any type of tangible accomplishment in life. Therefore in the Bhagavad-gita, the world famous Vedic book of wisdom, Lord Krishna says:

Just try to learn the truth by approaching a spiritual master. Inquire from him submissively and render service unto him. The self-realized souls can impart knowledge unto you because they have seen the truth. (Bhagavad-gita 4.34)