A Dialogue with Robin Kornman

How does one classify Ken Wilbur? Philosopher, psychologist, contemplative, author, avid consumer of popular culture, Wilber is one of our era’s grand synthecists, integrating many levels of knowledge from the most concrete to the most etheral into a great unified view of the living universe. The reclusive thinker granted the Shambhala Sun a rare opportunity to discuss his ideas, and entered into the following dialogue via fax machine with Robin Kornman, Buddhist scholar and the Bradley assistant professor of world literature at the University of Wisconsin at Milwaukee.

Robin Kornman: I read your ideas about the evolution of consciousness in a pair of your most recent books that seem to go together. Sex, Ecology, Spirituality is the big one, 800 pages. A Brief History of Everything seems to be a summary written for the common man and woman.

Ken Wilber: Yes, Brief History is much shorter and more accessible. At least I hope it is. The common man and woman? Well, anybody reading this magazine is already very uncommon, wouldn’t you say? I wrote the book for the same not-so-common people, I guess, nut cases like you and me who are interested in waking up and other silly notions like that. This book is not going to knock Deepak Chopra off the charts. I suppose it’s more for anybody who is looking for something like an overall world philosophy, an approach to consciousness and history that takes the best of the East and the West into account, and attempts to honor them both.

And what effect do you hope to have? What can knowing your philosophy do for the advancement of consciousness?

Not very much, frankly. Each of us still has to find a genuine contemplative practice-maybe yoga, maybe Zen, maybe Shambhala Training, maybe contemplative prayer, or any number or authentic transformative practices. That is what advances consciousness, not my linguistic chitchat and book junk.
But if you want to know how your particular practices fit with the other approachs to truth that are out there, then these books will help you get started. They offer one map of how things fit together, that’s all. But none of this will substitute for practice.

As you note in Brief History, there are already plenty of progressive theories of history and theories of spiritual evolution. Sometimes your theory sounds like Hegel’s dialectic, sometimes like Darwin, sometimes like various Asian views of world mind theory. What makes it different from these other systems?

Well, that’s sort of the point. It sounds like all of those theories because it takes all of them into account and attempts to synthesize the best of each of them. That’s also what makes it different, in that none of those theories takes the others into account. I’m trying to pull these approachs together, which is something they are not interested in.

You don’t divide up your world into atoms, or elements, or psychological states, but rather into units you call “holons.” These sound a lot like the “dharmas” of Buddhist abhidharma, or psychology. How influential was Buddhist abhidharma in your theory?

Well, I’m a longtime practicing Buddhist, and many of the key ideas in my approach are Buddhist or Buddhist inspired. First and foremost, Nagarjuna and Madhyamika philosophy: pure Emptiness and primordial purity is the “central philosophy” of my approach as well. Also Yogachara, Hwa Yen, a great deal of dzogchen and mahamudra, and yes, the fundamentals of abhidharma. The analysis of experience into dharmas is also quite similar to Whitehead’s “actual occasions.” My presentation of holons was influenced by all of those. Again, I’m trying to take the best from each of these traditions and bring them together in what I hope is a fruitful fashion.

Since we’re talking about influences, your system could also be regarded, if I were feeling unsympathetic, as a simple reconstruction of 19th century Romanticism. The notion that we are all evolving toward a realization of pure spirit is a Romantic notion of history. There are lots of reasons that these bright, sentimental, and spiritual approaches were abandoned, but here are three:
1. Science made talk about spirit seem childish.
2. The World Wars took away people’s faith in the bright absolutisms of Romanticism.
3. Romanticism spawned the fascists and, via the Hegelian dialectic, the Communists.
So how can you go back to this entirely exploded world view and make it the basis of a brave new millenium?

Actually, I attack the Romantics on numerous occasions-I mention all the points you did-and I do so with such polemical force that all the present day Romantics are totally furious with me.

To the reasons you mention that Romanticism is “exploded,” I add several more, the most grievous of which is that as a system it has absolutely no yoga, no actual contemplative methodology, no way to stabilize any sort of genuine spiritual awareness. This actually left the Romantics open to severe regression, which is why I usually refer to them as “retro-Romantics.” I point out several present day trends in retro-Romanticism, none of which are pretty, and I say so in blunt terms, and this has not endeared me to these folks.

Nor, in fact, do I believe we are evolving to some sort of spiritual Omega. In both books I maintain that the whole point is to directly recognize Emptiness: “Rest in Emptiness, embrace all Form,” is how I put it in those books, which is pretty basic Buddhism. I actually ridicule the Omega theorists a little bit, which has gotten them pretty mad at me as well.

Your own world view is complicated enough. Meditators might just say, “Why do I need to have a global-historical view at all? Leave me alone to just meditate.” What would you say to them?

Just meditate.

You have some interesting criticisms of conventional modernism and postmodernism. You seem to accept their positions and yet at the same time to transcend them, to put them in their place. Can you explain that?

Yes, the idea is that all the various approaches and theories and practices have something important to tell us, but none of them probably has the whole truth in all its details. So each approach is true but partial, and the trick is then to figure out how all of these true but partial truths fit together. Not “Who’s right and who’s wrong?” but “How can they all be right?” How can they all fit together into one rainbow coalition? So that’s why I both accept these positions but also attempt to transcend them, or “put them in their place,” as you say. Whether or not I have succeeded remains to be seen.

You use the word “Kosmos” instead of cosmos. Why?

“Kosmos” is an old Pythagorean term, which means the entire universe in all its many dimensions-physical, emotional, mental and spiritual. “Cosmos” today usually means just the physical universe or physical dimension. So we might say the Kosmos includes the physiosphere, or cosmos; the biosphere, or life; the noosphere, or mind, all of which are radiant manifestations of pure Emptiness, and are not other to that Emptiness.

One of the catastrophes of modernity is that the Kosmos is no longer a fundamental reality to us; only the cosmos is. In other words, what is “real” is just the world of scientific materialism, the world of “flatland,” the flat and faded view of the modern and postmodern world, where the cosmos alone is real. And one of the things these two books try to do is rehabilitate the Kosmos as a believable concept.

You write of the Kosmos as “the pattern that connects” all domains of existence. This reminds me of Gregory Bateson’s Mind and Nature, A Necessary Unity. How did these modern, sort of New Age movements in the social sciences influence your thought?

Not very much, I must say. I don’t find Bateson a very useful theorist, although I know many bright people who do. But the book you mention is what I would call a very “flatland” book-monological, it-language, one-dimensional, not very good, frankly. But that’s just my opinion.

Do you think Foucault, Derrida, and company were getting at points that Asian absolutists had already articulated in some way? Or have their poststructuralist approaches been completely fresh?

The poststructuralist approaches are both more novel or fresh, and much less profound. The great Eastern traditions are, in essence, profound techniques of transformation, of liberation, of release in radical Emptiness. The poststructuralists have none of that; they simply offer new ways of translation, not transformation. They are interesting twists on relative truth, not a yoga of absolute truth.
But within the relative truth, the poststructuralists have a few similarities with the relative aspects of some of the Eastern traditions, such as “nonfoundationalism,” the contextuality of truth, the sliding nature of signification, the relativity of meaning, and so on.

These are interesting and important similarities, and I try to take them into account, but they are all quite secondary to the real issue, which is moksha, kensho, satori, rigpa, yeshe, shikan-taza: None of that will you find in Foucault, Derrida, Lyotard and company.

What if I am, say, a hardcore, born-again Buddhist, who doesn’t use other systems of self-development or self-transformation. I get the idea from Brief History that I must be leaving something out of my self-culture. When I gain enlightenment, won’t it be incomplete according to you?

If by “enlightenment” you mean the direct and radical recognition of Emptiness, no, that won’t leave anything out at all. Emptiness doesn’t have any parts, so you can’t leave some of it behind. But there is absolute bodhicitta [awakened mind] and there is relative bodhicitta, and although you might have direct recognition of the absolute, that does not mean you have mastered all the details of the relative. You can be fairly enlightened and still not be able to explain, say, the mathematics of the Schroedinger wave equation. My books deal more with all these relative details, some of which are not covered by Buddhism, or any of the world’s wisdom traditions for that matter. But for the direct recognition of radical Emptiness and spontaneous luminosity, Buddhism is right on the money, yes?

Then why do I need your history of consciousness when I’ve got all the Buddhist teachings to play with?

You don’t. Unless you happen to find it interesting, or fun, or engaging. Then you’ll do it just to do it. The Buddhist teachings don’t specifically cover Mexican cooking either, but you still might like to take that up.

We could also put it this way: What do you know that the Buddha doesn’t?

How to drive a Jeep.

You want to integrate Freud with the Buddha, or, as you call them, “depth psychology” with “height psychology.” Do you think that without this integration both systems are incomplete?

Well, I think everything is incomplete, because the Kosmos keeps moving on. New truths emerge, new revelations unfold, new Buddhas keep popping up, it is endless, no? Freud and Buddha are just two examples of some very important truths that can benefit from a mutual dialogue. Emptiness does not depend on either of them; but the manifest world is a big place, plenty of room for both of these pioneers. And yes, I think they can each help the other’s path proceed more rapidly.

Do you think, indeed, that the ancient systems of spiritual transformation are inadequate in modern times, since they leave out so much of the material you include in your synthesis?

Inadequate? Not in absolute truth, no; in relative manifestation, sure, simply because Emptiness keeps manifesting in different forms, doesn’t it? You can’t find instructions for operating a computer in any of the sutras or tantras. You can’t find out about DNA or medical anesthesia or kidney transplants in those texts, either. Likewise, the West has contributed a thing or two in psychological and psychotherapeutic understanding, and these contributions are altogether beneficial and helpful, and they don’t have many parallels in any of the ancient teachings.
But it’s not really a matter of inadequacy; it’s a matter of making use of whatever is available. If your practice is working for you, excellent. If it seems to be stuck, maybe a little therapy might help. I myself don’t think either side has to be threatened by this. It’s a really big universe, very spacious, plenty of room for Freud and Buddha.

While we’re on this topic, what do you think of the inner tantras, such as kundalini yoga and what we Buddhists do with prana, nadi and bindu? The reality upon which they rely is not admitted by science and yet it occupies two higher levels in your system, the subtle and the causal. This is confusing, because a lot of spiritual practitioners never admit the existence of those levels and never do those practices. Yet you make them seem to be a necessity of higher development.

I don’t think they are a necessity. It’s rather that, at those two higher stages you mentioned, the subtle and the causal, these types of processes may occur. Or they may not. It depends on the type of practice, among other things. It’s just that, at a certain point in your own meditative practice, various gross processes tend to be replaced by subtle and then very subtle phenomena, and these sometimes include energy currents, prana, bindu, and so on. But in other cases it might simply be an increase in clarity and panoramic awareness. I was simply cataloging all the different types of meditative phenomena that can occur as meditation itself unfolds from gross to subtle to very subtle consciousness. Much of what I include here is pretty standard stuff in the traditions, especially the Tibetan.

Why do some spiritual practitioners seem to make advances in some ways and still be primitive assholes in other ways?

Well, one of the things I try to do with the developmental model of consciousness is outline two different things, which we can call streams and waves. The streams are the different developmental lines, such as cognitive development, emotional development, interpersonal development, spiritual development, and so on. Each of these streams goes through various stages or waves of its own development.
What research indicates is that, one, these different streams can develop fairly independently of each other: you can be advanced in one stream, such as the spiritual, and retarded in others, such as emotional or interpersonal. And two, even though these streams develop independently, they all share the same basic stages or waves of development. For example, they all go from preconventional to conventional to postconventional forms.

So we have numerous different streams of development, yet each traverses the same general waves or stages of consciousness unfolding. And people can definitely be advanced in one stream and a “primitive asshole” in others. I summarize this research in an upcoming book called The Eye of Spirit: An Integral Vision for a World Gone Slightly Mad.

But about your point, yes, development can be rather uneven. Most of the great wisdom traditions train people for higher or postconventional awareness and cognition, and for higher or postconventional affect, such as love and compassion. But they tend to neglect interpersonal and emotional development, especially in the conventional domains. We all know advanced meditators who are, well, unpleasant people. This, of course, is where Western psychotherapy excels-although it goes to the other extreme and almost completely neglects and leaves out the higher or transpersonal waves, another reason we need to get Freud and Buddha together.

Every old-timer in the contemplative game knows this is true-that growth is usually uneven. But some say the neurotic bits are actual regressions: a person made a real advance in meditation but then, seduced by samsara, abandoned it and got caught up in neurosis. Others say that meditation actually scoops up hidden, compacted neuroses in the advanced practitioner, making him or her suddenly and mysteriously become a jerk. Do you think there is any truth is such views?

I think of each of those points you mentioned is sometimes true. People often do make real progress in meditation, only to abandon it because the demands are too great. And when they return to their “old” ways, their neurosis is even worse, because they have the same old problem but now their sensitivity is increased, so it simply hurts even more.

Your second scenario is also common. Particularly at advanced stages of meditation, the really deeply buried complexes start to become exposed to awareness. Advanced practitioners can become very exaggerated people, because they have already worked through all the smooth and easy problems, and all that is left are the karmas from when you murdered twenty nuns in your last lifetime. I’m sort of kidding, but you get the idea: some really deep-seated problems can rush to the surface in advanced practice, and this can confuse people, because this does not look like “progress.” But it’s sort of like frostbite: at first you don’t feel anything, because you’re frozen. You don’t even think you have a problem. But then you start to warm up the frozen part, and it hurts like hell. The cure, the warming up, is horrible. Advanced meditation is especially a fast warming up, a waking up, and it usually hurts like hell.

But you have some other scenarios as to why things can “go bad” in meditation.

Yes, the idea is that, as we were saying, development consists of several different streams that develop through the basic stages or waves of consciousness unfolding. The great wisdom traditions tend to emphasize two or three of these streams, such as the cognitive (awareness), the spiritual (and moral), the higher affect (love and compassion). But they tend to neglect other streams, such as emotional, interpersonal, relationships, and conventional interactions.

Thus, as you tend to make progress in some of these streams-perhaps the meditative/cognitive-you can become a little “unbalanced” in your overall development. Other developmental lines become neglected, withered, atrophied. Your psyche is saddled with one giant and a dozen pygmies. And the more your meditation practice advances, the worse the imbalance becomes. You start to get very weird, and you are told to increase your meditative effort, and pretty soon you come apart at the seams like a cheap suit. Yes?

So one of the things that we might want to look at are ways to bring a more integral practice to bear on our lives, an integral practice that includes the best of ancient wisdom and modern knowledge, and blends the contemplative with the conventional. I don’t have the answers here, but these books are, I hope, a way to begin this dialogue in good faith and good will.

When you earlier said that meditators could “just meditate,” was that being just a little glib? Because it doesn’t seem that you really think that meditation alone is enough.

Well, you didn’t ask if I thought meditation alone is enough. You asked what I would tell somebody who said, “Leave me alone to just meditate.” I’d say, “Just meditate.” I have no desire to interfere with anybody’s practice. But if you asked instead, “What other practices do you think meditators could use to facilitate their growth?” then I would answer more or less as I just did.

In other words, a judicious blend of Eastern contemplative approaches with Western psychodynamic approaches is an interesting and I think healthy way to proceed. And if you want a more comprehensive world view, including both absolute and relative truths, then certainly there are numerous items that the West will bring to the feast. Any of those approaches taken by themselves is demonstrably partial by comparison.

Incidentally, if you’re put off by all this you don’t have to come. But everybody has an invitation to this dance, I think. It’s a real Shambhala Ball. Seriously. Chogyam Trungpa’s Shambhala vision, as I understand it, was a secular and integral weaving of the dharma into the vast cultural currents in which it finds itself. A Brief History of Everything outlines many of those currents and suggests one way that the dharma can enrich-and be enriched by-those currents. This is very simple, I think.

Fair enough. What I would like to do now is to ask a few very technical questions. One of the most confusing things about being a practitioner of Asian mystical traditions is the fact that before the Enlightenment the West had a thousand year tradition of civilization based on a highly mystical religion, Christianity. And yet in Sex, Ecology, Spirituality you characterize this thousand year period as one that promised but did not deliver genuine transcendence. Why do you say that? How could a whole civilization miss the point for so long when it had expressions of the idea in Plato, the Corpus Hermeticum, Neoplatonism, mystical Christianity, and so on?

Imagine if, the very day Buddha attained his enlightenment, he was taken out and hanged precisely because of his realization. and if any of his followers claimed to have the same realization, they were also hanged. Speaking for myself, I would find this something of a disincentive to practice.

But that’s exactly what happened with Jesus of Nazareth. “Why do you stone me?” he asks at one point. “Is it for good deeds?” And the crowd responds, “No, it is because you, being a man, make yourself out to be God.” The individual Atman is not allowed to realize that it is one with Brahman. “I and my Father are One”-among other complicated factors that realization got this gentleman crucified.
The reasons for this are involved, but the fact remains: as soon as any spiritual practitioner began to get too close to the realization that Atman and Brahman are one-that one’s own mind is intrinsically one with primordial Spirit-then frighteningly severe repercussions usually followed.

Of course there were wonderful currents of Neoplatonic and other very high teachings operating in the background (and underground) in the West, but wherever the Church had political influence-and it dominated the Western scene for a thousand years-if you stepped over that line between Atman and Brahman, you were in very dangerous waters. St. John of the Cross and his friend St. Teresa of Avila stepped over the line, but couched their journeys in such careful and pious language they pulled it off, barely. Meister Eckhart stepped over the line, a little too boldly, and had his teachings officially condemned, which meant he wouldn’t fry in hell but his words apparently would. Giordano Bruno stepped way over the line, and was burned at the stake. This is a typical pattern.

You say the reasons are complicated, and I’m sure they are, but could you briefly mention a few?

Well, I’ll give you one, which is perhaps the most interesting. The early history of the Church was dominated by traveling “pneumatics,” those in whom “spirit was alive.” Their spirituality was based largely on direct experience, a type of Christ consciousness, we might suppose (“Let this consciousness be in you which was in Christ Jesus”). We might charitably say that the nirmanakaya physical body] of each pneumatic realized the dharmakaya [absolute body] of Christ via the sambhogakaya [body of bliss] of the transformative fire of the Holy Ghost-not to put too fine a point on it. But they were clearly alive to some very real, very direct experiences.

But over a several hundred year span, with the codification of the Canon and the Apostle’s Creed, a series of necessary beliefs replaced actual experience. The Church slowly switched from the pneumatics to the ekklesia, the ecclesastic assembly of Christ, and the governor of the ekklesia was the local bishop, who possessed “right dogma,” and not the pneumatic or prophet, who might possess spirit but couldn’t be “controlled.” The Church was no longer defined as the assembly of realizers but as the assembly of bishops.

With Tertullian the relationship becomes almost legal, and with Cyprian spirituality actually is bound to the legal office of the Church. You could become a priest merely by ordination, not by awakening. A priest was no longer holy (sanctus) if he was personally awakened or enlightened or sanctified, but if he held the office. Likewise, you could become “saved” not by waking up yourself, but merely by taking the legal sacraments. As Cyprian put it, “He who does not have the Church as Mother cannot have God as Father.”

Well, that puts a damper on it, what? Salvation now belonged to the lawyers. And the lawyers said, basically, we will allow that one megadude became fully one with God, but that’s it! No more of that pure Oneness crap.

But why?

This part of it was simple, raw, political power. Because, you know, the unsettling thing about direct mystical experience is that it has a nasty habit of going straight from Spirit to you, thus bypassing the middleman, namely, the bishop, not to mention the middleman’s collection plate. This is the same reason the oil companies do not like solar power, if you get my drift.

And so, anybody who had a direct pipeline to God was thus pronounced guilty not only of religious heresy, or the violation of the legal codes of the Church, for which you could have your heavenly soul eternally damned, but also of political treason, for which you could have your earthly body separated into several sections.

For all these reasons, the summum bonum of spiritual awareness-the supreme identity of Atman and Brahman, or ordinary mind and intrinsic spirit-was officially taboo in the West for a thousand years, more or less. All the wonderful currents that you mention, from Neoplatonism to Hermeticism, were definitely present but severely marginalized, to put it mildly. And thus the West produced an extraordinary number of subtle-level (or sambhogakaya) mystics, who only claimed that the soul and God can share a union; but very few causal (dharmakaya) and very few nondual (svabhavikakaya) mystics, who went further and claimed not just a union but a supreme identity of soul and God in pure Godhead, just that claim got you toasted.

As for some of these more profound currents that became marginalized, what is the relationship between Plato’s concept of “remembering” and enlightenment? Ever since I read the Meno I’ve thought there was one. But I couldn’t quite figure out what it was.

Yes, I think there is a very direct relationship. If we make the assumption, pretty safe with this crowd, that every sentient being has buddhamind, and if we agree that with enlightenment we are not attaining this mind but simply acknowledging or recognizing it, then it amounts to the same thing if we say that enlightenment is the remembering of buddhamind, or the direct recognition or re-cognition of pure Emptiness.

In other words, we can’t attain buddhanature any more than we can attain our feet. We can simply look down and notice that we have feet; we can remember that we have them. It sometimes helps, if we think that we do not have feet, to have somebody come along and point to them. A Zen Master will be glad to help. When you earnestly say, “I don’t have any feet,” the Master, wearing these big Dr. Martens boots, will bring them stomping down on your feet and see who yells out loud, “No feet, eh?”

These “pointing out instructions” do not point to something that we do not have and need to acquire; they point to something that is fully, totally, completely present right now, but we have perhaps forgotten. Enlightenment in the most basic sense is this simple remembering, re-cognizing, or simply noticing our feet-that is, noticing that this simple, clear, everpresent awareness is primordial purity just as it is. In that sense, it is definitely a simple remembering.

And you think Plato was actually involved in that type of recognition?

Oh, I think so. It becomes extremely obvious in the succeeding Neoplatonic teachers; in these areas, the apples rarely fall far from the tree. Plato himself says that we were once whole, but a “failure to remember”-amnesis-allows us to fall from that wholeness. And we will “recover” from our fragmentation when we remember who and what we really are. Plato is very specific. I’ll read this: “It is not something that can be put into words like other branches of learning: only after long partnership in a [contemplative community] devoted to this very thing does truth flash upon the soul, like a flame kindled by a leaping spark.” Sudden illumination. He then adds, and this is very important: “No treatise by me concerning it exists or ever will exist.”

Purely wordless.

Yes, I think so. Very like, “A special transmission outside the scriptures; Not dependent upon words or letters; Direct pointing to the mind; Seeing into one’s Nature and recognizing buddhahood.” We have to be a little careful with quick and easy comparisons, but again, if all sentient beings possess buddhamind, and if you are not yet going to be crucified for remembering it, then it is likely enough that souls of such caliber as Parmenides and Plato and Plotinus would remember who and what they are in suchness. And yes, it very much is a simply remembering, like looking in the mirror and going “Oh!” As Philosophia said to Boethius in his distress, “You have forgotten who you are.”

I’d like to ask you a specific question about the connection about the ultimate and relative truth. You said that the Buddha’s teachings are completely adequate for the realization of ultimate truth, but that relative manifestation keeps on changing because “Emptiness takes on different forms.” But really in Buddhist teachings there is just one intelligence. The ati tantras call it rigpa, wisdom. It’s basically supposed to be the same as vipashyana or prajna. I’m wondering if you agree about this one intelligence. Is this the same intelligence that understands calculus or discovers quantum physics? Is it the same intelligence that microbiologists use to map the human genome?

And you ask because?

They are supposed to be the same “one intelligence” but they don’t look the same. These scientific and philosophical teachings of the West seem to be examples of relative truth that were not discovered in Asia. You obviously believe that the Asians were the world’s experts on finding or identifying the mind that cognizes Emptiness. But how can we reconcile this if there is only one intelligence? Put succinctly, why didn’t rigpa discover calculus or quantum physics or human DNA?

Because there is not simply one intelligence, not the way you mean it. Remember, even in the Madhyamika, where we have the Two Truths doctrine, there is a corresponding Two Modes of Knowing-samvritti, which is responsible for the relative truths of science and philosophy, and paramartha, or the recognition of pure Emptiness.

It’s true that the nondual tantras radically identified relative and absolute, but the point is, that identity is radical. Emptiness does not affect the phenomenal stream at all because it is the emptiness of everything in that stream. There is no part of Emptiness separate from the manifest world to push or pull it. Emptiness is not a phenomenon over there, which we grasp or understand, and which understanding changes other phenomenon.

Emptiness changes nothing whatsoever, for the simple reason that it is not one item among other items but the nature of all items, with no exceptions. Emptiness leaves everything exactly as it finds it, because it is already the suchness of everything exactly as it is.

So Emptiness will do no work at all. You cannot use it to agree with one position and disagree with another, because it is the suchness of all positions. It has no preferences. It is not one thing among others; it is simply the opening or clearing in which all things arise, equally. If calculus arises, it arises in Emptiness. If calculus doesn’t arise, still Emptiness. Emptiness doesn’t pick one or the other, and it has no hand in one or the other, because it is not here versus there.

Likewise, rigpa is a flashing (or seeing or recognizing) this primordial purity; if physics arises in that purity, then it arises; if it doesn’t, it doesn’t. Whatever relative manifestation there is, it is illumined or lit by rigpa, as the one intelligence in the entire universe, which is true enough. But within that absolute space of Emptiness/rigpa, there arise all sorts of relative truths and relative objects and relative knowledge, and Emptiness/rigpa lights them all equally. It does not choose sides, it doesn’t “push” anything. It doesn’t push against anything because nothing is outside it.

So there is one intelligence or not?

One intelligence that flashes in many different forms. As the Christian mystics put it, we have the eye of flesh, the eye of mind, and the eye of contemplation-all of which are ultimately lit by rigpa, or one intelligence, or Big Mind, but each of which nonetheless has its own domain, its own truths, its own knowing. And, most important, mastering one eye does not necessarily mean you master the others. As we were saying, these are relatively independent streams.

So the eye of contemplation is capable of disclosing absolute truth or Emptiness, whereas the eye of mind and the eye of flesh can disclose only relative truth and conventional realities.

Yes, I think that is a fair summary of what are after all some very complex issues.
The traditional analogy is the ocean and its waves, which is a really boring analogy, but bear with me. The wetness of the water is suchness. All waves are equally wet. One wave isn’t wetter than another. And thus, if I discover the wetness of any wave, I have discovered the wetness of all. When I directly recognize Suchness or Emptiness, or the wetness of my own being, right here, right now, then I have discovered the ultimate truth of all other waves as well. Emptiness is not a Really Big Wave set apart from little waves, but is the wetness equally present in all waves, high or low, big or small, sacred or profane-which is why Emptiness cannot be used to prefer one wave over another.

Enlightenment is thus not catching a really big wave, but noticing the already present wetness of whatever wave I’m on. Moreover, I am then radically liberated from the narrow identification with this little wave called me, because I am fundamentally one with all other waves-no wetness is outside of me. I am literally one taste with the entire ocean and all its waves. And that taste is wetness, suchness, Emptiness, the utter transparency of the Great Perfection.

At the same time, I do not know all the details of all the other waves-their height, their weight, the number of them, and so on. These relative truths I will have to discover wave by wave, endlessly. No Sutra of Wetness will tell about that, nor could it. And no Tantra of the Soggy will clue me in on this.

That’s why I earlier said that Buddhist contemplation is sufficient for ultimate truth: it will directly show you the wetness of all waves, the radical suchness of all phenomena, the Emptiness in the heart of the Kosmos itself, the primordial purity that is your own intrinsic awareness in this moment, and this moment, and this. But meditation will not, and really cannot, tell you about all the details of all the various waves that nevertheless arise as the ceaseless play of Emptiness and spontaneous luminosity. As you say, it will not automatically give you calculus, or the human genome, or quantum physics. And historically, it definitely did not, which should tell us something right there.

I have a question about the Great Chain of Being, and it dawned on me that the Great Chain might be related to what you are saying about manifestation and relative truth.

Yes, they are very similar notions. In other words, the Great Chain theorists-from Yogachara and Vedanta in the East to Neoplatonism and Kabbalah in the West-maintain that Emptiness (or the “One,” meaning the nondual) manifests as a series of dimensions, or levels, or koshas, or vijnanas-or “waves”-a spectrum of being and consciousness. The spectrum of levels is the relative or manifest truth, and the vast expanse in which the spectrum appears is Emptiness, or absolute truth. Ultimately the absolute and the relative are “not two” or nondual, because Emptiness is not a thing apart from other things but the suchness of all things, the wetness of all waves. And rigpa is the flash, the recognition, of that nondual isness, the simplicity of your present, clear, ordinary awareness-the opening or clearing in which the entire universe arises, just so.

But of course that is not merely an abstract concept. “One taste” is a simple, direct, clear recognition in which it becomes perfectly obvious that you do not see the sky, you are the sky. You do not touch the earth, you are the earth. The wind does not blow on you, it blows within you. In this simple one taste, you can drink the Pacific Ocean in a single gulp, and swallow the universe whole. Supernovas are born and die all within your heart, and galaxies swirling endlessly where you thought your head was, and it is all as simple as the sound of a robin singing on a crystal clear dawn.

The different forms of Emptiness, the different waves of the Great Perfection.

Yes, in the relative world, new truths are constantly emerging; they emerge within Emptiness, within this brilliantly clear opening that is your own awareness in this moment. And whether what arises in the vast expanse of your own primordial awareness is calculus, physics, pottery or how to make yak butter, will depend on a thousand relative truths and relative forces, none of which individually can be equated with Emptiness, and yet all of which arise as gestures of great perfection or Emptiness itself-that is, all of which arise in this simple, clear, everpresent awareness, the transparency of your very own being.

So within “one intelligence” or “Big Mind,” all sort of small minds and stepped-down intelligences arise-that’s the Great Chain-and those relative truths, like the clouds in the sky and the waves in the ocean, have an appointment with their own relative karmas and a date with their own destinies.

The West has its relative truths, the East has its relative truths. And mostly in the East we further get a clear understanding of absolute truth, because the toaster was not your fate for dabbling therein. And definitely, my theme is that a judicious blend of relative truths, East and West, set in the primordial context of radical Emptiness, is a very sane approach to the human situation.

The Kosmos According to Ken Wilber, Robin Kornman, Shambhala Sun, September 1996.

Indistinct Union

In a previous post I said I would go to into the metaphors within Wilber’s work combining my long-standing interest in his philosophical work with my new interest in metaphor theory

For the (heavy duty) theoretical background to this piece, see this article by Mark Edwards on uniting the developmental and epistemological elements of Wilber’s Integral Theory.

Ken discusses three strands of knowledge—injunction (action), empiricism (experience arising from action), and confirmation/verification (knowledge sharing with the community of the adequate. He relates those to three famous philosophers/schools of philosophy of science. The first (injunction) is Thomas Kuhn and his work on Scientific Revolutions occurring through new paradigms–new practices. The second, the empirical school with roots in Democritus up through Hume and to the Positivist School. And lastly the third, verification being Karl Popper’s (justly) famous work on falsification. To which Edwards adds a crucial missing fourth: interpretation. Science (or here the act of understanding) always takes place within meaning and interpretative contexts. In philosophy of science, this view is associated with Paul Feyeraband.

By adding a fourth strand, we now have a correlation between the quadrants (the dimensions of existence in lines of development) and the ways of knowing. See the image above for Edwards’ connection of the two.

This learning cycle goes by many different names. The first version of it I’m aware of is the Ignatian Paradigm of the early Jesuit tradition: Action, Experience, Reflection (both philosophical-social and theological), leading to new action. Or Kolb’s learning cycle. Edwards’ article has a whole list of similar variations on the same fourfold theme.

Another version of which is the so-called OODA loop of military theorist John Boyd. Observation->Orientation->Decision->Act (which leads to new Observation and the cycle starts all over again).

Correlating OODA with the quadrants (as a cycle of knowledge) lends: Action (UR), Observation (UL), Orientation (LL), and Decison (LR). In this sense really an AOOD Loop.

The Orientation moment (the LL-interpretative strand) is the one I would like to focus on. Going back to the notion of Wilber’s primary metaphor as map, then we have the map of AQAL as an orientating wisdom. What Wilber in his earlier work called an orientating generalization. One of, if not the, primary experience according to Wilber of postmodernity is that of disorientation. Hence the need for a map. Recall that orientation/disorientation is itself a metaphoric interpretive position (position being another metaphor). I could have said an metaphoric interpretive impulse (over position)–notice the feeling-thought difference between impulse and position. The map as Wilber says is (using a sub-metaphor) psychoactive. It is not simply a theory but rather an injunction-experience-theory-confirmed (all four quadrants/strands again).

But my sense has been thinking and living with these ideas for almost a decade now that there has been a tendency to see the map not as orientation but as automatic problem solver. I’ve made this mistake many times myself. A top-down view (which is what the integral view is) is always deeply revealing and simultaneously very seductive. It can seduce one to think that events/life can be managed from the top-down. The view is not the same as the action. The orientation is not the same as the decision nor the action (going back to the language of the 4fold cycle).

What is needed is bottom-up action through the mindset of top-down view.

In other words, the decision and action phases of the cycle are not predictable via the map. The orientation moment can certainly give clues but they are very generic. The moment of experience needs to be one in which we let go of the map filter for a moment so that we can experience (as much as possible) with the filter intruding too much.

In other words, all the elements of the AQAL map–perspectives, quadrants, states, stages, lines, types, self—should only be brought up I think in the moment of orientation. That is the interpretative moment.

Otherwise the de facto application of AQAL theory to any subject has generally been something like. The way to do X integrally is to do X across all quadrants, levels, states, lines, etc. I find this approach 1. deflating and not energizing 2. really confusing. Saying do X across all these elements of the map simply begs the question (or at least pushes the real question back one layer still unanswered): how do you do X across all these?

Rather instead I would focus–as in holocracy–on simply what is the next best step. What are the best practices in a certain realm–the best practice of X (holocracy being one)—attention to the experience (deep attention). Then in the moment of interpretation bring up (quickly) the elements of the map that are of value, that will orient one to the experience with the content added by whatever the moment/context is about and then having added that integral wisdom then (hopefully) there is a judicious judgment as to what next (the decision phase) and then the application of that decision.

That action (the application of the decision) leads to a new experience which will then shed light on the decision. Here then comes the notion of single, double, and triple loop learning.

After the new action leads to a new experience it may disconfirm the judgment–i.e. it didn’t work.

Then the inquiry (orientation/interpretation growing out of integral mindset): why didn’t it work?

Whatever we did that didn’t work might have been right strategically but wrong tactically. That is we might have made basically the right decision as to how to go but the wrong decision as to what to do next that would promote the strategy. This would be a single-loop learning. All we need to do in this case is change to a different tactical action.

Now we may interpret/exmaine the experience (which failed) and realize we have the wrong strategy. This learning may come from multiple failures at the tatctical level and realizing we are trying to achieve something from within the wrong frame and therefore no new tactic will ever work as we have the wrong strategy. This would be a double-loop.

And then we may even inquire into the process whereby we act-experience-interpret-decide itself. The integral learning cycle offered here is an actual practice that leads to an experience that is interpreted (you have to share with one another what it feels like to proceed this way) that will be verified or not (i.e. “is everybody on board? do you get this? do we find this helpful?”). This is a triple-loop. Learning about the learning. Practicing on the practice itself. Experiencing the experience itself. Interpreting the source of all intepretations themselves. And being confirmed (“strengthened”) in the process itself.

In other other words or in conclusion, the AQAL map does not specify content. Not experientially or phenomenologically but also not in terms of decision making. Not really. The process is emergent and therefore unpredictable. What the AQAL map does do is put us in the best place of recognizing (discerning) the potential that might emerge. It puts us in the best place for the emergent grace to happen to us.

The AQAL map is a practice not a theory alone–it itself follows the four fold learning cycle and should be taught that way as opposed to being a theory. As such it is only one of a series of practices necessary. It is less I think A Theory of Everything but more a Practice for Anything. But it’s a complementary practice—or rather a practice (embedded metaphorically as a map) that orients to other practices.

In this way of approaching the work, AQAL then practices its own admonition: it frees itself by limiting itself.

Authored by Derek

Authored by Anon

Question

Derek, some of the people who study the Tao are vegetarians and some are not. When I ask those who are about their dietary practice, they tell me they prefer to avoid killing. I respect that, but I also think they contradict themselves, because eating plants is killing, too. You are taking life every time you eat something, whether it is meats or plants, so what’s the difference? If you say the difference is suffering, well there are experiments that demonstrate plants also feel pain. Doesn’t this prove that life is just life, and in the Tao there really is no distinction whatsoever?

Answer
This idea, that there is no difference, has become a popular meme. It is likely to come up whenever people discuss vegetarianism, whether online or in person.

The authentic Tao is not so much about mystical vagueness as it is about practical, everyday reality, so the first point to consider is whether the idea can survive the real-world test. Compare using a machete to hack away at vines versus puppies. Is it really the same to kill a plant as it is to kill an animal? Can you really convince yourself that there is no difference between the two?

Another angle is to ask if little kids can tell the difference. Children have not yet learned the many methods of rationalization that sophisticated adults employ on a regular basis. If they can tell the difference between killing plants and killing animals while we cannot, then chances are pretty good that we may be using philosophical sophistry to fool ourselves.

Yet another angle is to test the implications of an assertion. If there is no difference between eating plants and animals, then what about the difference between eating animals and humans? We are animals too, so whatever makes us different from cattle would be nothing compared to the difference between beef and broccoli. If everything really is the same, then can you honestly support eating meat but not give cannibalism the same enthusiastic support? Why apply different standards if life is just life and there is no distinction whatsoever?

Also, take a look at the consumption of fruits. Plants use fruits to recruit animal assistance in the hopes of spreading their seeds more widely. Can one really claim that the eating fruits hurts fruit trees? Where is the killing there, exactly? And what about the consumption of leaves?

Lastly, let us address the assertion that plants feel pain. What the experiments actually show is that plants have reactions to external stimuli that are imperceptible to our senses but can be measured by our instruments. Thus, we cannot say that the plants are completely oblivious to being cut down just because we don’t hear any screaming. At the same time, we also cannot say that the reactions of plants are the same as the physical pain of animals. It is a stretch to equate the two, and the more one understands the central nervous system and the lack thereof in plants, the more of a stretch it becomes.

The foundation of the Tao paradigm is learning from the patterns we observe. Therefore, we should be wary of accepting assertions blindly, no matter how commonplace such assertions may be. Instead, we should engage the mind in making our own observations, extracting wisdom from the lessons we learn, and remaining truthful to ourselves in the Tao.

Jim Flowers
Jim Flowers is an Assistant Professor in the Department of Industry and Technology, Ball State University, Muncie, IN.

Problem solving and product design experiences can empower students by presenting unique learning opportunities. Although the problem solving method may have been important to technology education, as well as industrial arts, as far back as the 1920s (Foster, 1994), the movement to incorporate more problem solving and product design in technology education kept surfacing in the 1990s. For example, the Commonwealth of Virginia introduced a series of high school technology courses grouped together as Design and Technology (Virginia Department of Education, 1992); TIES Magazine’s web site offered 70 video tapes “that will support the teaching of design, problem solving and technology” (Ties, 1998); the use of design briefs was emphasized (Ritz & Deal, 1992); the popularity of a textbook titled Design and Problem Solving in Technology (Hutchinson & Karsnitz, 1994) continued to grow; and smiling students and their technological inventions were featured in articles (Edwards, 1996), at fairs, and in promotional materials. In the newer approaches to technology education that center on design, students are often asked to design new products. They creatively invent products like: pizza cutters with built-in flashlights; roller skates that work in sand; hats with built-in fans for cooling; and yet another way to store compact discs.

Subtly, the definition of technology education has evolved to reflect this movement, since “much technological activity is oriented toward designing and creating new products, technological systems, and environments” (International Technology Education Association, 1996, p.18). While there are many definitions of technology (Dyrenfurth, 1991), a number of them are oriented toward a product design and problem solving model. Some of these definitions of technology center on “control” over the “human-made and natural environment” to better meet “human needs and wants.” For example, Wright and Lauda (1993>) include these elements in their definition of technology as “a body of knowledge and actions, used by people, to apply resources in designing, producing, and using products, structures and systems to extend the human potential for controlling and modifying the natural and human-made environment” (pp. 3-5).

This is a shift in meaning from the days of the pump handle lamp and other woodshop projects. Back then, the student often began with a project idea, not with a problem to solve. As this shift in approach occurs, one problem faced by today’s teachers of product design is that students tend to subvert a prescribed design process. For example, a typical teacher may ask a student to engage in such a design process, beginning with the student identifying a problem to solve. Often this is a need or want. Next, the student may be asked to gather information and then to formulate many possible solutions to the problem, eventually choosing the best. In reality, some students approach the activity with the thought, “I want to get a CD rack out of this class,” or some similar sentiment that begins with one particular solution. In order to satisfy the teacher’s requirements, they then craft a need to fit this product idea. While most of their designs are fanciful and lack practical application, a few do, in fact, make sense. However, the entire approach of asking students to design yet another product to satisfy our needs and wants may be misguided, for two reasons.

First, few, if any, of today’s products are designed (by technology students or professional product designers) to meet actual needs. They are almost always designed to meet open markets, and then human wants can be engineered to meet the product availability. A common joke asks, “If necessity is the mother of invention, how come so many inventions are unnecessary?” The phrase, “The customer is always right,” and its more cynical corollary, “Give the customers what they think they want,” are not without merit, and have led to economic success for many capitalists. However, the result of product design activities for technology students is that these students learn materialism to an extreme. They are taught that just because something can be invented or produced, it should be. They are taught that creatively designing products is a good thing, regardless of the outcomes. The ultimate criterion for success is money.

Second, problem solving and product design are not the same; the best result of a sound problem solving process is often something other than a new product. Maybe the solution to a problem would be a change in corporate policy, new legislation, a consumer education program, or changes in how a product is marketed. These are each examples of design, but it is a system, not a product, that is designed or redesigned. Maybe the best solution is non-action, and acceptance of the situation without change. There have been numerous examples of technological products or “fixes,” such as DDT, that have backfired. We need a global citizenry that can entertain a wider variety of solutions than merely a new technological product. Yet if students are told (even tacitly) that their solution must be a physical product or model, then we are restricting their diversity of solutions, and thereby asking them to choose what may not be the best solution. Maybe that approach to problem solving is part of how teachers are taught. Boser (1993) compared problem solving educational specialists in two groups, technology teacher educators (TECH) and other researchers who were not technology teacher educators (EXT). “Members of the TECH panel tended to rate most highly those procedures practiced within the field, such as design-based problem solving, R & D experiences, and innovation activities. EXT panelists considered techniques such as simulation and case study, which are perhaps more widely used in content areas outside of technology education, as appropriate delivery vehicles for the recommended problem solving procedures,” stated Boser.

Some might point to a definition of technology and argue that the goal of technological acts is control over the environment to meet our needs and wants. But does technology really give control over the environment? Or is this just one western (or stereotypically male) approach? Surely technology education should accommodate people of different religions and belief systems. Yet, there may be a bias against certain belief systems because of the underlying and unquestioned assumptions inherent in a definition of technology and a rationale of technology education.

A Taoist philosophy is summarized in the Tao Te Ching, translated here from Lao Tsu’s words (1972) from 6th Century BC China. The numbers in parentheses correspond to the reference numbers in the actual document. Lao Tsu suggested that less and less should be done “until non-action is achieved. When nothing is done, nothing is left undone. The world is ruled by letting things take their course. It cannot be ruled by interfering” (#48). The philosophy of Taoism, like some other belief systems, does not put humans on an adversarial battleground with nature. Instead, a harmonious existence is thought to be a proper relationship. “Do you think you can take over the universe and improve it? I do not believe it can be done. The universe is sacred. You cannot improve it. If you try to change it, you will ruin it. If you try to hold it, you will lose it” (#29). It is difficult to delineate the separation between human and nature, and just as difficult to find the real difference between the human-made and natural environments. It is nearly impossible to name any terrestrial environment that is all human-made (without having been affected by the sun, for example), or one that has not been influenced by humans. These distinctions seem to isolate people from the world around them in an “unnatural” way. Yet, definitions of technology often attempt to make just such a distinction. From a Taoist perspective, some definitions of technology seem more like creeds about the nature and purpose of humans.

A host of values dominant in much western culture are de-emphasized in Taoist texts, including materialism: “Having and not having arise together” (#2); “One gains by losing and loses by gaining” (#42); one “who knows that enough is enough will always have enough” (#46); and one “who is attached to things will suffer much” (#44). It is common for western students to strive to improve, to take pride in their work, and to expect and receive praise. Yet, Lao Tsu suggests, “Working, yet not taking credit. Work is done, then forgotten. Therefore it lasts forever” (#2), and “Not exalting the gifted prevents quarreling” (#3). Technology students are especially encouraged to be innovative, and to want to improve the current situation (or solve the problem): “Give up ingenuity, renounce profit, and bandits and thieves will disappear” (#19); “Without desire there is tranquility” (#37). It is especially difficult for educators to question the value of education itself, but Taoism does: “In the pursuit of learning every day something is acquired. In the pursuit of Tao, every day something is dropped” (#48); and “Give up learning and put an end to your troubles” (#20). While some Taoist doctrines may cause some to discount the entire philosophy, that would be a mistake. Instead, it would be better to see what questions are raised by such a stance.

The emphasis on design in technology education may be related to the current abundance and diversity of technical artifacts. Would more artifacts be an improvement? While there are positive and negative outcomes of nearly any technological change, we should question the assumption that more is better. Does a major league pitcher concentrate on new baseball prototypes? No. The pitcher practices and experiments with the art of pitching, often hoping to achieve just a fraction of the skill enjoyed by some of the great pitchers in the history of the game. The aim is “the essence of pitching.” However, technology is an important factor. As the clap-skate was introduced to Olympic speed skating competitions in 1998, the athletes altered their notion of “the essence of speed skating.” As technology becomes more transparent to the end user, the user is required to know less technical information to use the technology. A few decades ago, computer programming was being pushed in the public schools. Now, the emphasis is more on the use of professionally prepared programs. Software is updated so often that it can be difficult to develop comfort with one particular version. This has let to some computer users feeling more comfortable with an older, and sometimes more reliable, version of a program. Their goal may not be to use the most advanced word processing program, but to write.

Is the goal to achieve a sustainable future, or to keep accelerating? “There is no greater sin than desire, no greater curse than discontent, no greater misfortune than wanting something for oneself. Therefore [one] who knows that enough is enough will always have enough” (#46). Are there enough designs? Is there enough technology?

Would it be possible to reconcile technology, technology education, and a Taoist perspective? Yes. But technology would not be the essence of human control over others and the environment. It would not be a master, but a tool. The goal would not be materialistic or technological, but to live life on a harmonious path. Will that entail problem solving and technology? Yes, but the goal of the problem solving activity may not be what it seems.

Recommendations

Therefore, I suggest a different approach to teaching problem solving in technology education. Students should be encouraged to concentrate not on whimsical wants or fanciful products. They should apply their considerable problem solving skills to improving the human condition, and the condition of non-humans, sometimes in spite of what some people want or think they want. They should be encouraged to find solutions from a broad range of technological and non-technological realms. Effective and responsible national leaders and corporate executives are those with enough backbone to do what they believe is best for the nation or corporation, in spite of mass opinion. They are not afraid to upset people, even friends, if these people had to be upset by the leader’s pursuit of their course. While they may be mindful of the concerns of the workers, citizens, consumers, etc., they are willing to lose their job because they did what they thought was best, in spite of common opinion. The solutions (i.e., way) they choose are holistic, sometimes relying more on technology, other times involved with laws, communication, and other social arenas. They do not blindly accept the premise that their current product or service is the single best solution to a problem. They “know when enough is enough,” and when the choice to not pursue a technological avenue is the wisest choice. If this is the type of person a technology teacher hopes their students will become, then specific educational experiences should be designed to empower students with those independent, risk-taking abilities where the goal is what is best, not necessarily only what the clients want or think they want. They must practice the skills involved in deciding when the best path may not be a new technological product.

Teaching problem solving in technology education will continue to offer students invaluable learning experiences. The suggestion is that the focus and procedure be allowed to shift. This can be directed by how the teacher helps the student select a problem and frame the context of a problem. Here are four examples of situations a teacher may pose for students.

• In Costa Rica, some of the urban-dwellers move into the dwindling tropical rainforest, clear an area of trees, and try to live a better life than they had in the city.
• In Ghana, there is a shortage of skilled industrial workers, yet many of the students in Ghana’s trade schools consider such jobs beneath their qualifications.
• In New York, a woman who played guitar and piano for many years has to give up these instruments because the guitar causes problems with her neck and back, and both instruments have resulted in carpal tunnel syndrome.
• In Delaware, a wife and husband in their seventies were given their first VCR, but the instructions sounded too intimidating for them to actually play or record a tape.

In each example, there is a statement of a situation that might (or might not) be improved by a creative solution. Some solutions may be technological, but maybe the best solution is not technological. Students should examine such situations (both big and small, near and far, individual and societal) and use their creative problem solving abilities to try to plan what is best. This means weighing short-term gains and costs with long-term gains and costs. It means asking what is best: best for the individual, for the culture, for future generations, and for the environment. It means considering educational reform, personal lifestyle changes, new technology, and governmental action. The Japan External Trade Organization (1998) concluded that “a fundamental gap exists between the way Japanese companies and many of their overseas partners, especially in the West, view problems.” Greater attention to both the diverse views of problem solving and to holistic approaches may improve the benefits of education in problem solving. Oddly, this more holistic approach to problem solving is contrary to popular belief and some research results:

The tendency in education has been to employ the term “problem solving” generically to include such diverse activities as coping with marital problems and trouble-shooting electronic circuits. The results of this study suggest that such generalization may be inappropriate. Instead, problem solving should be viewed as nature specific. In other words, different types of problem situations (e.g., personal or technological) require different kinds and levels of knowledge and capability. This is substantiated by this study’s findings that individuals manifest different style characteristics when addressing problems of different natures. (Wu, Custer, & Dyrenfurth, 1996, p.69)

However, the best solution to a technological problem may be non- technological. Students who are practiced in considering this wider range of alternatives will be better prepared to face the demands of global citizenry than those who merely make yet another CD rack.

A technology teacher can incorporate elements of a Taoist approach in subtle ways. These may include less emphasis on the product, less praise (from an external source), acceptance of some situations as they are, and an attitude of doing something because it needs to be done, and then moving on. There would certainly be less emphasis for some on solving problems by designing new products.

Finally, it is critical for a technology teacher to revisit their definition and philosophy of technology, analyzing its assumptions and bias. That definition should be individually crafted by that teacher, so that it is honest and accurate, and accommodates a variety of belief systems. That definition can lay the path for a wondrous technological journey for the student and teacher.

References
Boser, R. (1993). The development of problem solving capabilities in pre-service technology teacher education. Journal of Technology Education, 4(2).
Dyrenfurth, M. J. (1991). Technological literacy synthesized. In M. J.
Dyrenfurth & M. R. Kozak (Eds.), Technological literacy. 40th Yearbook,
Council on Technology Teacher Education. Peoria, IL: Glencoe.
Edwards, D. (1996). Design technology exhibit. The Technology Teacher, 55(8), 14-16.
Foster, P. (1994). Technology education: AKA industrial arts. Journal of Technology Education, 5(2).
Hutchinson, J., and Karsnitz, J. (1994). Design and problem solving in technology. Albany, NY: Delmar.
International Technology Education Association. (1996). Technology for all Americans: A rationale and structure for the study of technology. Reston, VA: Author.
Japan External Trade Organization. (1998). Problem solving. Retrieved April 23, 1998 from the World Wide Web: http://www.jetro.go.jp/Negotiating/6.html
Lao Tsu. (1972). Tao te ching (Gia-Fu Feng & J. English, Trans.). Westminster, MD: Random House. (Original work 6th Century BC)
Ritz, J. R., & Deal, W. F. (1992). Design briefs: Writing dynamic learning activities. The Technology Teacher, 54(5), 33-34.
TIES. (1998). Ties – The magazine of design and technology. Retrieved on February 12, 1998 from the World Wide Web: http://www.TCNJ.EDU/~ties/
Virginia Department of Education. (1992). Design and technology: Teacher’s guide for high school technology education. Richmond, VA: Author.
Wright, R. T., & Lauda, D. P. (1993). Technology education – A position statement. The Technology Teacher, 52(4), 3-5.
Wu, T., Custer, R. L., & Dyrenfurth, M. J. (1996). Technological and personal problem solving styles: Is there a difference? Journal of Technology Education, 7(2), 55-71.

Just a quick note to say that Chris Weigel has an exciting new paper forthcoming on psychological distance and intuitions about free will. (For a brief summary, see this post.)

Elizabeth Debold

Quick: “masculine”–take ten seconds and say the words that come to mind that describe masculine. Next, do the same with “feminine.” That was the first exercise that my friend and colleague Cindy Wigglesworth and I asked participants to do in the breakout session that we led at the Integral Leadership in Action conference (October 15-18). What did the participants say? Innie and outie (hence the photo that I put at the top of the blog). Yin and yang. Active and passive. Driving and yielding. Assertive and receptive. Thinking and feeling. Eros and Agape. Rational and emotional. Hard and soft. Pointed and embracing. Strong and… You know, the ususal opposites or polarities that are often associated with men and women. While some describe (or infer) the different bodies that we inhabit, others reflect the different roles and opportunities that women and men have had in culture. “Masculine” and “feminine” don’t each describe one thing–they are a kind of grab bag of stereotypical gender qualities. Cindy and I wanted to encourage these representatives of the integral movement to put a temporary halt to their use of these terms and instead speak much more specifically and precisely about what one really is referring to.

The ILiA group is pretty much focused on business and organizational applications of integral theory (usually, Ken Wilber’s integral theory), and these organizational change agents often work to transform businesses and business leaders from being overly “masculine” to embracing more of the “feminine.” In our postmodern times, the “feminine” has become a buzzword for the kinder and gentler qualities that we want to see valued more in culture. Fine. But labeling those qualities “feminine,” which means “related to females,” seems problematic to me. Masculine and feminine are such value loaded terms–asking a man to be more feminine, or telling a strong woman that she should express more of her feminine side is often confusing, suggesting that somehow either the individual should be more of the other gender or is doing gender, which is one of the deepest aspects of our identity, wrong. If you want someone to change, being more precise about the change you’re looking for is much more helpful to him/her. Speaking about being attentive and listening more is a much clearer direction than asking an individual to be more feminine. Moreover, isn’t it more likely that our culture is more likely to change by adopting values that refer to general human qualities or competencies (listening, assertiveness, compassion, rationality) rather than to whatever the feminine means as a whole?

Cindy and I spoke about how our ideas of gender have changed as human consciousness and culture have developed. There really wasn’t a sense of masculine and feminine as we think about it now until the late medieval period–those words weren’t even in the English language until the fourteenth century. They really are concepts that emerge with modernity, when the entire social world in the West was divided by gender into the male public sphere and the female domestic sphere.

Cindy likes to think about the polarities that we associate with masculine and feminine (like agentic and recpetive) as comprising a system in which both qualities are needed. She was drawing on Barry Johnson’s important work on polarities and how to work with them. She also suggested that we might think about when gender/sex matters and when it doesn’t. Certainly, gender/sex matters when you want to make babies! But in many, if not most, spheres of life, gender or one’s sex shouldn’t matter. Maybe one needs to develop certain competencies–such as in being more connected in relationship or more willing to take risks–but these are not really about gender, even if, at this point in human cultural development, men may often have more experience and comfort with risk and women with a certain connection in relationship.

One of the points that I hope that I made well was that using the term “feminine” to refer to the change we want to see in others or in organizations (and society) ends up hurting women. Believe it or not. It suggests that we women have no developing to do. And, given the crises we are facing, we ALL need to be doing all we can to develop and to consciously evolve. We women don’t have a lot of experience or mettle with standing up and staying together under pressure. Men, actually, are often better at that and we can learn a lot there. Moreover, pushing men to be more “feminine” (rather than coaching them to develop certain skills that are important to us all), too often creates distrust and a deep sense of separation, rather than the unity that we so badly need. Your average sensitive guy might not say anything–he knows better–but, given a chance to talk about it, that sentiment is right on the surface.

Our solution, for the time being, is to ask all integralists to put the words “masculine” and “feminine” on furlough for a year. Let’s see what happens when we stop using those words in business or in relation to personal growth or change. My hunch is that we’ll all be more effective at bringing about the changes that we want to see. Can we all give it a try and then compare notes next year at the ILiA conference?

Suppose you knew you were going to be reborn after you died, and you could choose the time and place of your next birth—any time in human history up to the present day. Would you like to be born in the 21st century, or during some earlier period? Current societies are more complex and technologically advanced than previous ones, of course, but if you are reading this article, chances are you interested in growing spiritually, rather than (or at least in addition to) materially. Given that purpose, when would you want to be born? If you accept Ken Wilber’s four-quadrant model, you should unhesitatingly choose to be born now. For according to this model, modern societies, and their members, are at a higher level of not simply material existence, but also of consciousness. Building on the work of Jean Gebser and others, Wilber sees humanity as having evolved—and progressed—from earlier forms of consciousness such as the magic and mythic to an age of reason, and beyond that to vision logic and still higher states. A similar progression of consciousness has been postulated by Spiral Dynamics (Beck 2000), a theory of social change which has become increasingly more closely allied with Wilber’s ideas in recent years.

This view of the evolution of consciousness has an apparent problem, however. According to Wilber, levels of the holarchy always emerge in the same order, in a developmental sequence. Thus all societies, and their individual members, must go through all the stages or levels, without skipping any of them. One can’t go from the magic level, for example, directly to the modern rational level—let alone to vision-logic beyond that—without first passing through the intervening stage of mythic. If this is indeed so, how could such great sages and mystics of the past—Jesus, Buddha, and so many more—have realized these higher states? If they lived in an era that had not yet realized the modern, so-called rational level of consciousness, how could they experience a level beyond this?

Wilber has an answer to this problem, of course, but I don’t think his answer works. Here I will present and criticize Wilber’s attempt to evade the stage-skipping dilemma, then suggest a different way to look at the problem. I will argue that there are two kinds of hierarchical relationships, one of which characterizes the historical stages of human consciousness, while the other comes into play when we realize higher, spiritual states. I will further discuss just what sort of development of Homo sapiens is necessary to provide the potential for realization of a higher level of existence.

STRUCTURES AND STATES
Wilber begins his reply to the stage-skipping criticism by drawing a distinction between structures of consciousness and states of consciousness. Structures of consciousness are more or less equated with holarchical levels in his model. For example, the preop, conop and formop stages of human development are all considered examples of structures of consciousness by Wilber. They appear in a certain order, and can’t be skipped:

It appears that all structures of consciousness generally unfold in a developmental or stage-like sequence, and, as virtually all developmentalists agree, true stages cannot be skipped…A person at preoperational cannot have a peak experience of formal operational. A person at Kohlberg’s moral-stage 1 cannot have a peak experience of moral-stage 5. A person at Graves’s animistic stage cannot have a peak experience of the integrated stage, and so on.[1]

States of consciousness, on the other hand, according to Wilber, include waking, dreaming and deep sleep; certain drug-induced states; as well as the higher states accessible through spiritual practices. These do not necessarily appear in a stage- or level like sequence. Furthermore, any one state, he says, may be associated, at one time or another, with more than one kind of structure:

states of consciousness (with their correlative bodies or realms) contain various structures of consciousness. For example, the waking state can contain the preoperational structure, the concrete operational structure, the formal operational structure, and so on…States themselves rarely show development, and their occurrence is often random; yet they seem to be some of the most profound experiences human beings ever encounter. Clearly, those important aspects of spirituality that involve altered states do not follow any sort of linear, sequential, or stage-like unfolding.

Having made this distinction, Wilber then goes on to explain how it is that people at lower developmental levels can nevertheless experience higher states of consciousness:

Evidence strongly suggests that a person at virtually any stage or level of development can have an altered state or peak experience–including a spiritual experience…Thus, the idea that spiritual experiences are available only at the higher stages of development is incorrect…However, the ways in which individuals experience and interpret these higher states and realms will depend largely on the level (or structure) of their own development…individuals at, for example, the magic, mythic, and rational stages can all have a peak experience of a subtle realm, but how that subtle realm is experienced and interpreted depends in large measure on the structures of consciousness that are available to unpack the experience.

However, this view of structures and states has several problems, some of which I have discussed at length elsewhere (Smith 2000a). One problem is that the definition of states is so broad as to be in some cases virtually meaningless. Consider the waking state. According to Wilber, all human beings, whatever their structure of consciousness, access the waking state. But so do many animals. Certainly most of us accept that mammals and birds are awake. Some animal behaviorists would argue that lower organisms, including rather primitive invertebrates, are also in this sense awake (Griffin 2001). Perhaps even single cells like bacteria are awake. Wilber, who claims that all forms of existence, even down to atoms and subatomic particles, have some form of consciousness or interiority, is hardly in a position to disagree. So the question becomes, where—and how–do we draw the line? If the waking state can contain the very different structures of consciousness that characterize the archaic, magic, mythic and rational forms of consciousness, or the very different stages of consciousness that every developing human child passes through, why can it not also encompass all the structures of consciousness of lower forms of existence? Without a clear and unequivocal rule to define the waking state, it must apply to a truly vast spectrum of interiorities, encompassing many levels of the holarchy, which surely can’t be Wilber’s intention. States as Wilber defines them, after all, do have a level-like or holarchical appearance. He may say that they show no development or stage-like unfolding, but we all talk of higher states and lower states. This being the case, we can hardly argue that some state can be manifested throughout virtually the entire holarchy.

Wilber might try to counter this objection by saying that we can rather arbitrarily limit the definition of the waking state to just members of our species, and the several levels that they occupy in his model. However, to do this is basically to tie the definition of the waking state to a definition of structure. That is, if the waking state can only be realized by organisms or holons on a relatively small group of levels, then the state is being viewed, in effect, as a close correlate of a structure itself, or perhaps of a super-structure, one comprising several different structures. For whenever we use the term waking state in this way, we could just as easily substitute for it the term “interiority associated with these particular structures”. And once we do this, we are admitting that it does have developmental or stage-like features, for in Wilber’s model, interiors as much as exteriors all do have these features.

To get around this problem in turn, Wilber might argue that not only can several different structures be associated with a single state, but also the converse: that several different states can be associated with a single structure. Sometimes he seems to imply this position. Consider the statement in the previous quote: “a person at virtually any stage or level of development can have an altered state or peak experience”. Isn’t he saying here that one structure can be associated with more than one state, such as waking and altered? If this is the case, then Wilber can now correctly claim that he is not defining states in a way that links them directly to particular structures. For while the waking state may in fact be associated only with a particular group of structures, so are at least some of the other states. Thus something other than their association with particular structures must distinguish the various conscious states from another.

However, elsewhere Wilber makes it quite clear that he does not accept this position. In an online debate he held with Allan Combs several years ago, he in fact went to great pains to emphasize that he believed this view of the structure/state relationship was a major flaw in Combs’ view of consciousness:

Combs presents his version of states and structures by, in my opinion, getting the definitions of states and structures backwards. Instead of seeing that a given state (such as drug, waking, dreaming) can contain many different structures (e.g., the waking state can contain magic, mythic, and rational structures), Combs says that a given structure supports many different states (which is rarely true: the rational structure, for example, does not usually support the drunken state, the dream state, the meditative state, etc.)[2]

It seems, therefore, that Wilber believes that a given structure can be associated with only one conscious state.[3] So when individuals of any historical era, whatever brain structure they possessed, realized a higher state of consciousness—even temporarily–they did so by undergoing some change in the structure of their brains. I agree with this conclusion completely, as do most investigators of higher consciousness. After all, it’s the basis of the idea that there are physiological correlates of higher consciousness which can be subjected to scientific study. However, having come to this conclusion, Wilber again confronts the problem that his definition of conscious states is closely tied to structures. The waking state may be associated with the archaic, magic, mythical and rational structures. What he calls the subtle state may be associated with one or more other structures, and still higher states of consciousness may be associated with still other structures. This being the case, these states are firmly embedded in the holarchy, and should only be accessible in a developmental sequence. It should not be possible, for example, for someone with a mythical structure to realize the subtle state, because to do this the brain must adopt the structure corresponding to this state, and this structure is different from, and higher than, the rational structure.[4]

This problem becomes particularly obvious when we ask what happens when an individual realizes a higher state permanently. Wilber now leaves no room for doubt that a new and higher structure emerges:

Evidence suggests that, under conditions generally of prolonged contemplative practice, a person can convert these temporary states into permanent traits or structures, which means that they [sic] have access to these great realms on a more-or-less continuous and conscious basis… In each of those cases, those great realms (psychic, subtle, causal, nondual) are no longer experienced merely as states, but have instead become permanently available patterns or structures of consciousness.

Making it very clear that he means by “structures” in this context exactly what he means when he refers to archaic, magic, mythic and rational structures, Wilber adds:

do those four states, as they become permanent structures, show stage-like unfolding? Are they then actually levels of consciousness? In many ways, the answer appears to be “yes”

So here Wilber himself admits that we have structures beyond those of the rational brain, and the problem of skipping stages re-emerges. How could a mystic of two eons ago permanently realize what Wilber calls the subtle structure, for example, without skipping the rational structure? [5]

Finally, states as Wilber seems to want to define them have a very peculiar position in his holarchy—which is to say, no position. According to Wilber, everything is a holon, except maybe artifacts (which I do classify as holons; see Smith 2001a). But Wilber’s states clearly are not holons. They not only do not emerge in a stage-like sequence, but “their occurrence is often random”. What sort of creatures are they, then? Mostly, I would say, just an ad hoc invention in order to provide a quick fix to a serious problem.[6]

In conclusion, Wilber’s structure/state distinction, as he appears to mean it, will not solve the problem of how earlier people realized higher states of consciousness without skipping certain lower stages or structures of consciousness. There is, and must be, a very close relationship between structures and states of consciousness. As I have argued elsewhere (Smith 2000a), the simplest way to express this relationship is to say that every state of consciousness is associated with a distinct structure, and vice-versa. Wilber’s definition of states in broader terms, so that they encompass more than one structure, is acceptable, but there can be no overlap in the structures associated with different states. When we are in the ordinary, so-called waking state, we have—or more precisely, we identify with—one brain structure (or one of a small group of possible brains structures). When we are dreaming or in deep sleep, we identify with others. When we experience a higher state, we identify with still others.[7]

In fact, I believe “state” is one of those terms that may be fine for loose, everyday usage, but which is probably better left out of more rigorous discussions, which this article is pretending to engage in. We all know what we mean by waking state when we talk about ourselves, because we are restricting the discussion to humans, and those of one particular era at that. But as I noted earlier, when the entire holarchy is under consideration, the term waking state becomes very difficult to delimit; what we call waking is obviously somewhat arbitrary. Nor is the problem limited to the waking state. The same fuzziness surrounds a definition of drug-altered state, since many lower organisms, and even individual cells, can also be profoundly affected by certain drugs. For this reason, it seems to me that the term “interior” is to be preferred.

DIFFERENT PATHS TO DIFFERENT PLACES
To summarize the discussion so far, we have seen that Wilber’s four-quadrant model implies that people of earlier cultures were able to skip stages of development to realize higher, spiritual states. In an attempt to get around this problem, Wilber has argued that what they realized were not higher levels or structures, but higher states. Yet when we examine closely the concept of a state, we see that it must correspond to a particular structure or exterior, or at best, to a particular exclusive group of such structures. This being the case, there is no apparent way, within the current framework of Wilber’s model, to define conscious states in such a manner that they do not appear in a developmental sequence.

How, then, do we account for the spiritual experiences of earlier people? There are at least three possible explanations. I will discuss each of them briefly, then argue for a solution to the problem that involves all of them to some extent.

First, we can deny that humans historically have passed through several distinct levels or structures of consciousness, as Wilber (and others, like Gebser) have claimed. Some anthropologists and psychologists have in fact argued that people of earlier or less developed cultures were or are just as capable of rational thought, and other characteristics of the modern mentality, as we are (Pinker 1997; DiZerega 1999; Edwards 2001). In support of this view, they can point to the fact, noted earlier, that there are no scientifically detectable differences in brain structures between modern humans and the earliest members of our species. So without denying that people of earlier cultures experienced the world very differently from the way we do, one could argue that these differences do not amount to genuine differences in levels or stages of consciousness. Certainly these differences are not nearly as great as those between the stages that all children pass through during normal development, nor are they as great as the differences between any human of any time or place and any other organism on earth. As I have pointed out before (Smith 2001f), this is a major inconsistency in the four quadrant model. When Wilber claims that humans of different eras occupy different levels of existence, he is using the term “level” in a very different sense from the way he applies it to other parts of the holarchy.

A second way to respond to the stage-skipping problem is to deny that people of lower stages ever have or can access higher spiritual states. This is not necessarily to claim that there have never been any genuine mystics in the past, but only to insist that any who did appear first had in fact reached the same level of rational consciousness that Wilber attributes to moderns. While this scenario has seemed hopelessly unrealistic to most people considering this problem, it becomes much easier to entertain it if, as just discussed, the differences between Wilber’s lower levels of human consciousness are much less than they are usually considered to be. We don’t have to assume that Jesus or Buddha, before they began their spiritual journeys, experienced the world just as moderns do. We only have to assume they were just as capable of thinking rationally as we are. That is to say, they had passed through all the major stages of cognitive (and emotional, moral, etc.) development that modern children do.[8]

Finally, the most direct way to confront the problem of how earlier people realized higher, spiritual states is just to bite the bullet and concede that, yes, stages can be skipped, or at least bypassed. This is the position taken by a writer I know only as Avyorth, who has discussed the problem in a recent series of postings to the Integral-ION Forum:

I don’t believe that one has to go from structures of conop to formop to vision-logic before Psychic to Subtle, etc. The states or structures of conop —– vision-logic are Gross Mind and are neither closer nor further away from the Subtle or Very Subtle realms. Thus one might be developmentally at a conop level with a very developed relation to the ‘Transcendental’ whilst another might be developmentally at a vision-logic level with a poor relation to the ‘Transcendental’. My claim would be that there were/are people living within Agrarian/Mythic worldviews/spaces who have had a much more developed relation with the ‘Transcendental’ than many who live within the emerging Integral worldview/space. I’d cite Siddhartha Gautama aka ‘the Buddha’ or Tsongkhapa or Mipham as examples – I’m sure others will have their own examples.[ 9]

Notice that as with the other two approaches just discussed, this tactic, in Avyorth’s hands, is not as drastic as it might seem it would have to be. He is not saying that any stages can be skipped willy-nilly. In fact, in a sense he’s not saying that any stages can be skipped. When someone at a mythic level experiences what Wilber calls the subtle level, she does not skip the rational level, because, in Avyorth’s view, the path leading from mythic to subtle is an entirely different path from the one leading from rational to subtle. To make a very crude analogy, if you were to drive from New York to San Francisco, you might pass through a number of large cities, such as Cleveland, Chicago, St. Louis, Denver and Salt Lake. Upon arriving in San Francisco, you might take a plane to Japan. But you could also fly to Japan directly from New York, and if you did, no one would say that you had skipped all those other cities, or that you were taking a shortcut. From the point of view of modern air travel, New York is not much further from Tokyo than San Francisco is, and the routes for the most part do not overlap.

Avyorth, then, is claiming that there are two kinds of stages or developmental pathways. He refers to one of these as the gross and the other as the transcendental:

• the evolutionary or developmental which covers the physiosphere, biosphere and noosphere levels of being, all the way to the Holonic/holistic/Informational. This is the Buddhist Gross Mind level/realm, Wilber’s world of holons and fulcrums, and is a ‘horizontal’ stream as it were;
• the ‘transcendental’ which links the ggross (world of holons) with the Subtle and Nondual. This is the Buddhist Subtle and Very Subtle Mind levels/realms and is a ‘vertical’ stream as it were.

As I’ve said before, I believe Wilber conflates these two streams into one stream that flows from Spirit via Involution to Matter and then, via Evolution, back to Spirit. I believe this conflation to be problematic.

I completely agree with Avyorth that a distinction has to be made between two kinds of states of consciousness, those that humanity is now experiencing or has experienced in the past, on the one hand, and higher, transcending states, on the other. The two types of consciousness are sufficiently different from each other that they can’t be viewed as forming a simple hierarchical ladder or chain, as they are depicted in the Wilber model. I believe, however, that Avyorth is throwing out the baby with the bathwater. It’s not only not necessary, but not possible, to make a distinction between gross and transcendental states. In attempting to do so, I think Avyorth is falling into the trap—one of which Wilber is very much aware—of believing that there can be disembodied conscious states or experiences. As emphasized earlier, every conscious state is associated with some structure or exterior, so that no level of existence either consists entirely of, or is entirely devoid of, a gross or physical nature. Even God is associated with the physical universe. And even the most primitive organisms, and perhaps even cells and molecules, have an interior, which (another important point emphasized by Wilber) is just as transcendental or ineffable as the experience of an advanced meditator.

Nor is it necessary to argue that some forms of consciousness are not holarchical or do not follow the laws or tenets of holons. It’s only necessary to recognize two different kinds of hierarchical organization, one of which characterizes or describes the relationships between the ordinary states of consciousness, and the other which characterizes the relationships between ordinary states and spiritual states. Both are higher/lower relationships, but they differ significantly in several ways.

Ironically, Ken Wilber also recognizes—unconsciously, one is tempted to say—that there are different kinds of holarchical relationships. As is very well known, Wilber in recent years has integrated his four-quadrant model with Spiral Dynamics, arguing that the levels of social development postulated by the latter correspond closely to those of his own holarchy. In addition to postulating a dozen or so levels of historical, current or potential human social development, however, Spiral Dynamics makes a distinction between what it calls first and second tiers. The first tier composes all levels, or memes, up to and including the green. The second tier begins with the yellow meme, just above the green, and continues upward through higher levels. Wilber fully embraces this view, and in the process makes a significant—but unannounced, and generally uncommented upon—revision to his four-quadrant model. He is conceding that not all higher/lower relationships are the same. The yellow meme in the second tier is higher than the green meme in the first tier, but higher in a different sense from the relationship between the green meme and the lower orange meme, which is also in the first tier. As I have pointed out earlier, and elsewhere (Smith 2001a,b,f), there are many inconsistencies in the way in which Wilber defines levels, a point other critics have also made (Grof 1993; Washburn 1999; O’Connor 2001). This is apparently the first time, however, that Wilber has gone so far as to admit into his model—if not into his mind, or to his critics—a distinction among level-to-level relationships.

What Wilber does not do, however, is explain just how or why 2d/1st tier relationships differ from level/level relationships within any single tier. In light of the stage-skipping problem, and responses to it like that of Avyorth, addressing this issue is critical. It ought to be obvious to everyone that the distinction between the first and second tiers is not an arbitrary one, where we decide just for convenience to lump a certain group of levels apart from another group. The boundary is very close to, if not coincidental with, the line between ordinary human states and higher spiritual states, between what Avyorth calls–understandably if I would say incorrectly–the gross world and the transcendental world. To put it as bluntly as possible, Wilber and all his critics now agree that when we realize higher states of consciousness, we are going beyond our ordinary state in a way very different from the way humanity has progressed through the archaic, magic, mythic and rational states. I have been saying this all along. So now let’s look at how my model addresses this issue.

TRANSFORMATION AND TRANSCENDENCE
In my model, a distinction is made between two kinds of hierarchical relationships or processes. I have discussed these distinctions in detail elsewhere (Smith 2000a; 2001a,b,f), and will only summarize this discussion briefly here. In a transformative relationship, all lower-order holons are included within all higher-order holons in a nested hierarchy or pure holarchy. This arrangement can be illustrated schematically by a series of Chinese boxes or Russian dolls, one within another (as shown in Fig. 1A in O’Connor 2001). Examples of this kind of relationship include molecules, which contain atoms; tissues, which contain cells; and societies, which contain organisms. In all of these examples, there may be several layers, or what I call stages, of holarchy. For example, a protein molecule contains amino acids, each of which in turn contains atoms. Many tissues and organs are composed of smaller multicellular units, which in turn contain individual cells. Complex societies exhibit units such as states, cities, tribes and families, each nested within a higher unit and ending with the individual.

In a transcendent relationship, on the other hand, not all hierarchy is nested or holarchical. In a cell, for example, not all atoms are found within molecules, not all small molecules are found within larger molecules, and so on. In an organism, not all cells are found within tissues, not all tissues are found within organs, and so on. This kind of arrangement is called mixed (nested and non-nested) hierarchy, and is illustrated by a single box which contains within itself several smaller boxes, each of which exhibits nested hierarchy or holarchy (shown in Fig. 1B in the O’Connor reference).

In my model, one level of existence is completed, and a new level begun, by a process of transcendence. Thus a cell completes the physical level and begins the biological level. An organism completes the biological level and begins the mental or behavioral level. Holons like cells and organisms, which are formed by transcendent processes, I call individual or fundamental holons, while holons like molecules and tissues which are formed through transformative processes I call social or intermediate holons. The emergence of the latter creates stages within a level. Thus the relationship of an individual holon to its component holons (individual and social) is transcendent, while the relationship of a social holon to its component holons (individual and social) is transformative.

Since both transformation and transcendence are hierarchical relationships, social holons are higher than their component holons, just as individual holons are. Because the two relationships are structurally different, though, they are higher in different ways. In a transcendent relationship, the properties of lower holons can be preserved, because not all the latter are embedded in social holons. Free, unbonded atoms within a cell (such as sodium ions) have properties essentially identical to the same atoms found outside of cells. Unassociated cells within an organism (such as white blood cells) have essentially the same properties that they have outside cells (or would have if they were cultured in a sustaining medium).

In a transformative relationship, in contrast, properties are not preserved. Atoms, upon association into molecules, lose some of their original properties; the same is true for cells that associate into tissues. At the same time, however, holons within transformative relationships gain new properties; thus atoms in molecules exhibit properties not shown by unbonded atoms, and likewise for cells within tissues. These new properties are higher than the original ones they have lost. In fact, these individual holons, by virtue of their membership in social holons, participate in or experience some of the emergent properties of the social holon. So atoms within molecules can be said to be higher than atoms outside of molecules, and again, cells within tissues are higher than cells outside of tissues.

In light of these relationships, let’s now consider our own level of existence. The social holons on our level are of course represented by societies of organisms, particularly human societies. These form transformative or pure holarchical relationships. Thus individuals are embedded in families, which in turn are contained within still larger forms of social organization. As with other levels of existence, individuals lose some of their original properties when they become part of a social holon, but they gain higher, emergent properties. In fact, most of our higher, mental faculties that most distinguish us from other organisms—language, reason, abstract thought, and so on—derive from our participation in societies. In my model, all these properties are social ones, belonging to the society; individuals only experience them by virtue of being members of the society, and tapping into them, so to speak. This is why the stages of human mentality, including interiority or consciousness, parallel the stages of social development. The higher and more complex the society, the higher its emergent properties which its members can participate in.

What about higher, spiritual states? In my model, these are associated with a higher holon (or holons) that transcends life on earth in much the same way that cells transcend atoms and molecules, and organisms transcend cells and tissues. Like any other holon, this global holon as I call it must have an interiority associated with it, and this interiority or consciousness is a higher level—not simply a higher stage—than any of the interiorities associated with humans at various social stages. However, humans do not apparently experience or realize this higher level of consciousness simply by virtue of their participation or membership in this global holon. This is consistent with the observation that on lower levels of existence, there is no evidence that individual holons, such as atoms or cells, can realize the properties of the individual holon transcending them (cells and organisms, respectively). There appears to be a limit to such participation, and this limit is reached at or perhaps before the highest stage, prior to transcendence. Instead, to realize a higher, transcending level of consciousness, one must completely transcend one’s identity as an individual, shifting it to the higher holon. This, it seems to me, is the crucial difference between the stages of consciousness that Wilber calls waking (and Avyorth calls gross) and the higher spiritual states. One can and generally will experience the waking state as an individual participating in some form of social organization.[10] Waking consciousness requires communication. In contrast, one experiences the higher state as a higher-order individual holon that does not distinguish self from other and is therefore not participating in any kind of society.[11]

Because the process of transcendence viewed through my model does not involve participation in a series of stages, there is no obvious reason why people of lower stages should not be just as capable of transcendence as people of higher stages. This shift in identity does not involve passage through any of the social stages that may be above the one in which the individual is situated. However, this conclusion needs to be qualified in one important respect. As Wilber has emphasized, in order to achieve transcendence, there has to be something to transcend. A young child can’t realize transcendence (so I would insist), because it has not yet developed the brain structures, and associated consciousness, that are to be transcended. So some development of stages is necessary—in other words, no process can skip an entire level.

How much development is necessary, that is, what stages of human consciousness are sufficiently developed to realize higher consciousness? I claim that full biological and mental development of the human organism is required, that is, one must reach the highest or higher operational stages of thinking manifested in all normal human adults. Before discussing why this is so, however, I want to re-emphasize that this view does not imply that people of earlier periods could not have realized higher states of consciousness. I contend, as do others (Pinker 1997; Dizerega 1999), that they were as capable of this thinking as we are.

This point is generally not recognized by Wilber and his followers, because in his model, the stages of biological development and historical evolution of our species often are assumed to be essentially identical, with ontogeny recapitulating, or at least closely paralleling, phylogeny. Wilber implies as much when he applies the same terms to both processes, for example, referring to the magical view of both children and of adult humans of a certain earlier period. In a similar vein, note that Avyorth, in the first of his quotes above, assumes that the developmental stages of conop and formop correspond to particular historical stages. If one adopts this view, then one is forced to the conclusion that the higher forms of thinking found today were absent from our ancestors.

I find this assumption highly problematical, however. Evolutionists recognize that ontogeny follows phylogeny only in certain relatively gross features or approximate ways. Furthermore, much of human ontogeny, that is, early child development, is concerned with the creation and functioning of structures that evolved long before the emergence of our species, for example, the visual and motor systems. So to say that we can see, in the development of children, the same evolutionary steps taken by our ancestors, is a gross oversimplification.

Consider our earliest ancestors, the prototypical cavemen living 30-50,000 years ago. In addition to mating and raising families, these people could make fire, fashion tools, hunt game, defend themselves from predators, and create some surprisingly sophisticated art. Developing individual humans must advance well into childhood before they can match such accomplishments. Moving forward in history to the period between 10,000 and 5000 years ago, when the first great civilizations apparently emerged, we find our ancestors now capable of agriculture, building cities, forming governments and writing historical records. At this point, they are surely barely distinguishable from today’s adults.

In conclusion, I am claiming that a) any human capable of rational thought, or the higher operational faculties, has the potential to realize higher consciousness; and b) our earlier, if not earliest, ancestors, satisfied this criterion. But why should the ability to think be necessary? Meditation, the process by which we realize transcendence, involves stopping or transcending our thoughts, so it might seem ironic to say that thought is necessary for transcendence. Yet we also know that all or virtually all non-human organisms do not think, yet we don’t regard them as existing in a higher state of consciousness. Clearly what is important to achieving transcendence is not simply the absence of thought, but the process of making thought absent. We need to think before we can reach a state where we don’t think. To understand why, we need to look at the process of thinking in a novel way. We need to ask why it is that we think in the first place, how thought evolved.

WHY DO WE THINK?
The standard scientific view is that thought evolved because, like every other feature of organisms, it had adaptive value. It provided our ancestors with immense advantages over other organisms in the struggle for survival. Because humans could think, they could devise elaborate ways of hunting for food, defending themselves against predators, and raising their young. Natural selection, in this view, resulted in the evolution of an increasingly larger and more complex brain that became increasingly better at enabling individuals to cope with various environmental challenges.

There is an apparent problem with this view, however. Anyone who meditates regularly—that is, who struggles daily to still her mind—acutely understands that an enormous amount of our thoughts are wasteful, having no obvious utility or purpose. Our mind is constantly churning out fantasies, memories, idle plans, thoughts about other people and things, and so on, and so on. These are the demons that the meditator must confront and conquer, moment after moment, hour after hour, day after day, all of her life. We are normally unaware of most of these thoughts; they only become conscious through the process of meditation, which reveals them gradually, layer after layer. In fact, the notion that most of our thinking occurs unconsciously is now well recognized by scientists as well (Hunt 1983; Minsky 1985; Dennett 1991), though scientists in general do not understand that most of these thoughts are not productive. For it is true that much useful thinking also occurs unconsciously, such as the processes by which we use language (Pinker 2000). But as any meditator should understand, the useful portion of our unconscious thoughts is only the tip of a very large iceberg.

The human brain, then, is apparently highly inefficient, spending enormous quantities of energy to generate useless activity. How could such an organ have evolved? Keep in mind that natural selection, according to the standard scientific view, operates mostly on individuals of one species, not of different species. That is, when the human brain was evolving, any new adaptive feature would have given its possessor a competitive advantage over other human beings. Surely this would have created tremendous selection pressure for a more streamlined brain, one in which nonproductive thinking was minimized. Why did this not occur?

One possible answer, favored by some mystics, is that the human brain resulted from some error or mistake during the evolutionary process (deRopp 1968). Gurdjieff’s tale of the kundabuffer (Gurdjieff 1999) can be read as an elaborate myth recounting the origins and consequences of this mistake. Put in modern scientific terms, however, there is nothing really mysterious about what might have happened. Evolution is often and mistakenly believed to be a highly efficient process, creating adaptations that are the perfect solution to some problem confronting a species struggling for survival. As examples, we can point to insect camouflage, the bird’s wings, the vertebrate eye. But adaptations are never perfect; they are, and only need to be, a little bit better, more adaptive, than what preceded them. Furthermore, all evolutionary adaptations are subjected to certain structural constraints; that is, there is a limit to what can be created given a certain body type and composition (Thompson 1992). Once evolution has committed itself to a certain path, these constraints become increasingly more restrictive. That is, once a structure of a certain degree of complexity has evolved to fulfill some function, it is often not possible for evolution to discard that structure and start over, moving in a new direction. Even if it were theoretically possible to create, by natural selection, a more adaptive structure, evolution on this alternate path could not initially compete with what has already been created. So it is stuck with what it has created, and must find ways to modify it in order to make further adaptations. Philosopher Daniel Dennett (1995) compares evolution to a mechanic tinkering with a machine, rather than with a inventor designing a new machine from scratch.

As a result, evolution can and often does produce structures or other adaptations that seem, from our point of view, to be highly inefficient. Perhaps the best known example is the introns or “junk DNA” sequences that intervene between the coding regions of genes. About 90% of the human genome consists of these noncoding sequences. While research is beginning to suggest that these introns have some important functions (Flam 1994), there is little doubt that these functions could have been fulfilled just as easily with much smaller stretches of non-coding DNA. The evolutionary origin of introns is the subject of some controversy (Gilbert 1987), but it seems that they have survived because they don’t seriously compromise the function of the cell. It’s easier for evolution to carry this excess baggage than to start over on a path that might have led to a more streamlined genome.

The human brain—which in fact in my model is analogous in function and holarchical position, on its level, to the genome on its level (Smith 2000a)—may be another example of inefficient evolution. It presumably evolved because only very large networks of highly interconnected neurons were capable of manifesting complex forms of thinking. But such large networks apparently evolved in such a way as to generate a large amount of useless or unnecessary activity. Given the complexity of the brain, which we are still not close to comprehending, this is hardly surprising. That evolution could generate even an inefficient thinking organ is a rather astonishing achievement. In any case, many hundreds of thousands or millions of years ago, it became too late for evolution to start over. It had to work with what it had created so far, and as long as this brain had adaptive advantages relative to the competition, it persisted.

This, then, is one possible explanation for the inefficiency of the human brain. It’s the explanation most scientists would give, were they more aware of this inefficiency. However, there is another possible explanation, consistent with my holarchical model. To appreciate it, we have to adopt a very different view of the adaptive role of the brain from the conventional one.

Let’s return to the question I posed before: what the evolutionary purpose of the human brain was and is. That is, what exactly was the adaptive value of thinking to our species? The standard answer, as I alluded to earlier, is that thinking allows us to represent the environment to ourselves and perform manipulations on those representations. Thus we can imagine the consequences of some intended action; consider possible events in the past that led to a current situation; understand or empathize with what others are thinking or feeling; and so on.

This is the kind of answer a scientist would give to the question, Why did the human brain evolve?, because most scientists accept that natural selection operates on individual organisms. From this point of view, every individual organism is in competition with other individuals of the same species[12], and those adaptations that emerge are those that permit certain individuals to win this competition. I have no quarrel with the concept of natural selection, but as others have pointed out (Sober and Wilson 1998), it is not always a competitive process. It can also enhance cooperation among members of a single species, or even of more than one species. Some adaptations result in greater social interactions between individuals, and thus strengthen certain forms of social organization in both human and animal populations. The members of such populations are no longer in competition with each other. As Sober and Wilson have shown, under certain circumstances it is even possible for altruistic forms of behavior to evolve, in which individuals put themselves at risk for the benefit of other members of the society. [13]

This does not mean that there is no competition occurring. Organisms that live in societies frequently have important adaptive advantages over similar organisms that do not live in such societies, or that live in less well-developed societies. So in this sense, the ability to form a society is just another adaptive advantage that favors some individuals over others. But the critical point is that the level of competition has shifted. It no longer makes much sense to say that individuals are competing with each other. The competition is between societies.[14] If one society enhances the survival of its members more than another society, then natural selection will favor the survival of that society. This will occur even if the genetic composition of its members changes over time, as long as the kind of social interactions they maintain remain the same, or become even more adaptive.

This provides a new answer to the question of why thinking evolved. It should be obvious that a major consequence of most kinds of thinking is to increase social cohesion. Simple observation reveals that a great deal of thoughts are about events—past, present or future, real, possible or imagined—involving interactions with other people. Through this kind of thinking, we in effect constantly recreate society, remind ourselves of its existence. In fact, even when particular individuals or social interactions are not present directly in our thoughts, we are still involved in social interactions, because almost all thinking involves the use of language, and language is a social phenomenon. Merely by virtue of using language we are immersing ourselves in a social structure or what Wilber calls an intersubjective matrix that presupposes our awareness and acceptance of our membership in society (Hargens 2001). Thinking is what creates and maintains this matrix.[15]

Given this intimate relationship between thinking and social bonding, we can argue that the real evolutionary purpose, or consequence, of thinking was and is to strengthen particular forms of social organization. Blackmore (2000) describes the human brain as a “meme machine”, an organ highly proficient at receiving from other brains, copying and transmitting to other brains various forms of behavior or ideas or concepts called memes, which in this manner rapidly spread throughout a society. As I have discussed elsewhere (Smith 2000a), memes are in fact units of social interaction, and play a somewhat analogous role in the reproduction of social holons that genes do in the reproduction of individual holons.

Taking this point of view, it is no longer necessary to regard the human brain as inefficient, or most of its activity as wasted.[16] It may in fact be highly efficient—though to repeat, no evolutionary adaptation is perfectly efficient, or the best conceivable solution to some problem—at promoting certain kinds of social interactions and thereby enhancing the survival of certain kinds of societies. For while much of our thinking is unconscious, it may be no less effective for that in shaping our behavior. Again, simple observation reveals that we are continually, thoughout our entire waking existence, acting in certain ways that are adapted to or constrained by certain social rules—and most of this behavior is carried out unconsciously.

WHAT ENSLAVES US CAN FREE US
To summarize the discussion so far, I have argued that the major evolutionary purpose of thought—speaking more precisely, its adaptive value—has been to strengthen social interactions between individuals. This in turn enhances the survival or adaptive fitness of certain kinds of societies. While societies are of course composed of individuals, survival of which ultimately determines whether the societies will survive17, natural selection is operating on social interactions, not on individuals. Not only are individuals within any particular society not competing with each other, but in today’s world, where memes may cross national borders and circle the globe in little more than the blink of an eye, individuals in different societies are not competing with each other, either. All competition is at the social level. To repeat, because it is such a critical point, individuals are not the unit of selection. The only roles they play in the evolutionary process are 1) to receive, copy and spread memes; and 2) to reproduce themselves physically, thus allowing the basic structural unit or individual holon composing the society to be preserved.

So one way to look at the brain is as an organ designed to carry out processes that strengthen certain kinds of societies. That, I claim, is why the higher features that make the human brain unique among all animals evolved. Our real purpose, from an evolutionary point of view, is not to survive, grow and reproduce as individuals, though this may be a side effect of the process. Our real purpose is just to churn away at generating memes, creating new kinds of social interactions which allow a society to grow, change and survive. Societies, in my model, are higher than their individual members, and constrain them in certain ways to ensure their (the societies’) survival.

Every genuine sage or mystic has taught that the human condition is one of slavery, or sleep. All holons are in fact subject to certain rules, constrained by their relationships to higher order holons. Were we not members of societies, we would not be free or freer; in fact, we would be less free (Smith 2000a). But our social membership is the source of bonds we most immediately experience, the bonds we must sever to become freer.

And the spiritual path does offer a way out of this trap. The meditator’s message is very simple: we don’t have to play this game; we don’t have to think. Thinking is what bonds us to others in social interactions, but is also what keeps us forever playing the role of very small units in a much larger holon.

Now at last we are in a position to return to the question I posed earlier: Why is thinking necessary to realize transcendence to a level beyond all thought? Why must we think before we can transcend thought? Thinking, like any other process or function, requires energy. Though the brain comprises only about 1-2% of the total body mass in an adult human being, it uses about 20% of the body’s total metabolic energy (in the resting state). It follows that if we stop thinking, this energy becomes available for other purposes. As I have discussed elsewhere in detail (Smith 2000b), it is this energy that the meditator uses to to transcend our level of existence and realize a higher level. Whenever we stop a thought, we gain a very small amount of energy. It’s the accumulation of this energy, through decades of practice, that allows us to move higher. That same energy that binds and constrains us can also be used to liberate us.

This is why only Homo sapiens, of all species on earth, has the possiblity of realizing a higher state of consciousness. It’s also why only fully-developed adult humans can achieve this realization. And it’s why this higher state was potentially just as accessible to our ancestors as it is to us.

SUMMARY AND CONCLUSION
What I have called the stage-skipping problem arises in the Wilber model because this model asserts that people of different historical periods experienced different levels of consciousness. Even the highest of these levels, however, is below the level of spiritual states of consciousness. To realize such states, therefore, people of earlier eras apparently had to skip those levels experienced by people of later periods. Wilber tries to avoid this problem by claiming a distinction between structures and states of consciousness, with people of lower levels just as capable as people of higher levels of accessing a particular state. However, this distinction does not work, because states must correspond to structures in a one-to-one fashion, or at least in an exclusive fashion (that is, two or more different states can’t be realized by a single structure). This being the case, states, like structures, must be hierarchically arranged.

The solution to the stage-skipping problem that I propose is to recognize that there are two different kinds of hierarchical relationships, transformation and transcendence. The first kind of relationship characterizes that between humans of different historical periods, while the latter that between higher, spiritual states and the waking consciousness of people of any era. Transformative relationships do follow a stage-like developmental process, with no skipping under normal circumstances, but transcendent relationships are available to holons on any of several stages. It is only necessary that a human being think at a certain level of complexity to have the potential for realizing a higher, transcendent level of consciousness.

The potential is not the actual, of course. Whether people of earlier eras found it easier or more difficult to realize higher consciousness than we do –to return to the question that began this article—might depend on many other factors. One that I believe was and is particularly significant is the degree of development of the higher level holon or holons with which spiritual states are associated. There is no reason to believe this holon was fully evolved thousands of years ago, or that it is yet. I believe it is still in the process of emerging. From this it follows that what our ancestors could have identified with may have been less developed than what we can identify with, which in turn may be less developed than what individuals of the future may identify with. Wilber (1981) has argued that people of earlier times, while capable of realizing spiritual states, could not attain the highest states possible for some individuals today. While this is a highly debatable position, if it is true, it might be accounted for by the fact that the higher states are still emerging.

There may be other advantages or disadvantages to being at one particular stage rather than another. For example, while I believe people of fairly early periods, certainly as far back as 10,000-5000 years ago, were capable of the highest stages of thinking generally recognized by developmental psychologists, I also believe that the thinking of modern people is in some respects more complex, as we are engaged in a greater number and complexity of social interactions (Smith 2001c,f). This greater complexity might make the process of stopping thought more difficult, but it also might make it more powerful.

I don’t believe, though, that the very real advances our era has made over previous ages in science, technology, medicine, philosophy and so on have much if any influence on the prospects of individuals for realizing higher consciousness. It may be possible to understand higher levels, intellectually, a little better today than it was yesterday, to relate them to other, more conventional forms of knowledge, as Wilber and others including myself are trying to do. It may also be that as people find more and more of their ordinary needs and desires satisfied by modern technology, and as national borders dissolve and people grow closer and more aware of world unity, that more individuals will be attracted to the possibility of realizing a higher level. But in my experience, none of these factors makes the process of meditation any easier, or brings higher consciousness any closer. Awakening is not a matter of standing on the shoulders of giants. All the giants in the world cannot reach to where we seek. Everyone who permanently awakes does something that has never been done before, and which will never be done again.

FOOTNOTES

1. Unless otherwise indicated, all Wilber quotes are taken from “A Summary of My Psychological Model”, available at www.shambhala.wilber.com
2. See “Discussion of Ken Wilber with Alan Combs”, www.member.ams.chello.nl/f.visser3/wilber/combs1.htm and combs2.html, combs3.html
3. Suppose Wilber wished to contradict the position he took when debating Combs, and argue that one structure can, after all, be associated with more than one conscious state. As I noted earlier, by doing this, he could uncouple his definition of states from that of structures. However, this position creates a new problem, reflected in what I have called the “one brain, many minds” view of existence. I have previously discussed this problem in connection with Wilber’s structures of consciousness, as they appear in his four-quadrant model (Smith 2000d). According to his model, humans at different levels of existence—archaic, magic, mythic, rational—have both different interiors or levels of consciousness, as well as different exteriors or brain structures. In fact, though, the differences in brain structures are purely hypothetical; though they undoubtedly do exist, they are too small to be detected by current scientific methods, though they may eventually become detectable through future technological advances. So what is basically one brain structure is being asked to support a wide range of interiorities, so different that Wilber places them on entirely different levels. This is inconsistent with the way he treats lower levels of existence, where distinctly different interiors are associated with distinctly different exteriors.
   To say that one structure can be associated with more than one conscious state greatly exacerbates this problem. This is to claim that just one of his hypothetical different structures, such as the modern rational brain, can be associated with several different experiences of consciousness. How can this be? Don’t Wilber’s own rules dictate that every interior must be associated with a different exterior? If this is not the case, if one and the same structure can be associated with several different interiors, how could this possibly be expressed in any consistent relationship between exterior and interior? According to Wilber (and I agree), holons, and their exteriors and interiors, are all there is. What, then, is left to determine when a particular exterior is associated with one interior, and when it’s associated with another interior?
4. To be sure, I’m using the term “structure” here in a very broad sense. It does not (necessarily) refer to a distinct anatomical structure, as a scientist would apply the word. The difference may be much more subtle, a matter of different patterns of nervous activity within the same set of anatomical structures. But Wilber himself defines exteriors or structures in an equally subtle manner, when he claims, for example, that the modern human brain is different from that of earlier humans (see the previous footnote). There really is no reason, from a scientific or philosophical point of view, why structure can’t be defined in this way. The only limitation in our definition is that such brain differences must be qualitatively distinguishable from those differences that underlie changes that occur within what we consider the same state. For example, when we think different thoughts, experience different emotions or act in different ways, different patterns of nervous activity occur in our brains. These patterns must be of a different order from those that we associate with different states like waking, sleeping and so on. In the case of dreaming and deep sleep, we know this is the case. The case remains to be made with respect to higher spiritual states.
5. Of course, the brain structures associated with permanent realization of a higher state of consciousness can’t be the same as those associated with temporary experience, but they surely must bear some resemblance to each other. The differences would most likely be of the kind that would strengthen the formation of some pattern (or its absence). So if, as Wilber asserts, a higher structure bears a holarchical relationship to a lower one, so should any structure associated with temporary realization of a higher state.
6. I think Wilber very seriously overestimates the “random occurrence” of states. Most of what he calls major states, most of the time, do not occur randomly. We do not awaken or go to sleep randomly. We do not fall under the influence of drugs randomly. All of these states appear as a result of well-defined and reproducible causes. It may happen occasionally that someone experiences a spiritual state through no obvious cause, but I believe even this happens quite rarely. For one thing, many of the states people claim as higher states are probably not. For another, genuine spiritual states usually result after much effort. They may be precipitated by unusual circumstances, such as a shocking or unexpected event, but this does not make their occurrence random.
7. I do not accept Wilber’s claim that the states of sleep are actually higher than the waking state, rather than lower. See Smith (2001e).
8. To accept this premise is to deny, however, that young children, who clearly are at lower developmental stages than that of an adult, can experience genuinely higher states of consciousness.
9. Avyorth, Integral-Ion Forum, message #446. The following quote is from the same source. This Forum is accessible only to those who have previously signed up.
10. Even very primitive organisms have some kind of social structure, composed either of other members of their species (such as invertebrate colonies), or their relationships with other species. As I have discussed elsewhere (Smith 2001g; Smith in progress), the ability of these organisms to experience themselves and their environment in certain ways results directly from their participation in these societies.
11. It may be that as evolution proceeds, the higher level individual holon becomes part of a still higher social holon, composed of many such individual holons. My point is only that the next evolutionary step is identification with the individual holon. In the same way, during earlier evolutionary periods, identification began with individual holons. Thus the very earliest organisms had very little social organization, and made little or no distinction between self and other (Smith 2000f).
12. Speaking more precisely, every member of a particular species is in competition with every other member of a particular population of that species (Stebbins 1982).
13. This kind of altruism has a different evolutionary origin from the kin selection process originally developed by Hamilton (1964a,b). The latter can be explained strictly in terms of the dynamics of interaction among genetically related members of a society. It is most commonly observed in the social insects, such as bees.
14. Strictly speaking, the competition is not between societies, as the term is usually used, but between social interactions. Thus competition can and generally does occur within societies, between one kind of social interaction and another. For example, when one kind of idea or belief gains widespread acceptance in a society over another idea or belief, the first idea has been selected. So there can be an enormous amount of competition occurring within any society, and as a result, the society itself can change dramatically. But to reemphasize, this competition is not between individuals, but between processes that always involve multiple individuals, and which therefore occur on a different level from the individual.
15. More precisely, thinking, as we experience it, is how we participate in the emergent properties of this intersubjective matrix. See the earlier discussion on how individual holons participate in the higher properties of social holons they are members of.
16. It isn’t necessary to propose that evolution of the human brain was from the very beginning driven by its ability to spread memes and enahance social interactions. It may have served a different, more individual purpose originally. At some later time, however, the ability of the brain to spread memes would have emerged as the major force on which selection acted. The ability of the evolutionary process to find new uses for adaptations is a common theme.
17. This is just Wilber’s criterion of asymmetry, in which some holons are defined as higher than others when the first class is eliminated by elimination the second class (Wilber 1995). As I have argued at length, Wilber does not see that this criterion clearly makes societies higher than their individual members.

REFERENCES
Beck, D. (2000) Stages of Social Development www.member.ams.chello.nl/f.visser3/wilber/beck2.html

Blackmore, S. (1999) The Meme Machine (Oxford: Oxford University Press)

Dennett, D. (1991) Consciousness Explained (New York: Little, Brown)

Dennett, D. (1995) Darwin’s Dangerous Idea. (London: Penguin)

deRopp, R.S. (1968) The Master Game (New York: Delta)

DiZerega, G. (1999) Ken Wilber’s Critique of Deep Ecology and Nature Religion: A Response http://www.dizerega.com/kwcrit.pdf

Edwards, M. (2001) Integral Sociocultural Studies and Cultural Evolution www.member.ams.chello.nl/f.visser3/wilber/edwards4.html

Flam, F. (1994) Hints of a Language in Junk DNA. Science 266 (1320)

Gilbert, W. (1987). The Exon Theory of Genes. Cold Spring Harbor Sympos. Quant. Biol. 52, 901-905

Griffin, D.R. (2001) Animal Minds (Chicago: University of Chicago Press)

Grof, S. (1993) The Holotropic Mind (San Francisco: Harper)

Gurdjieff, G.I. (1999) Beelzebub’s Tales to His Grandson (NY: Penguin)

Hamilton, W.D. (1964a) The Genetical Evolution of Social Behavior, I. J. Theor. Biol. 7, 1-16

Hamilton, W.D. (1964b) The Genetical Evolution of Social Behavior, II. J. Theor. Biol. 7, 17-52

Hargens, S. (2001) Intersubjective Musings, available at www.shambhala.wilber.com

Hunt, M. (1983) The Universe Within. (New York: Simon and Schuster)

Minsky, M. (1985) The Society of Mind (New York: Simon and Schuster)

O’Connor, J. (2001) Development in the One-Scale Model, www.member.ams.chello.nl/f.visser3/wilber/oconnor.html

Pinker, S. (1997) How the Mind Works (NY: Harper Perennial)

Pinker, S. (2000) The Language Instinct (NY: Harper Perennial)

Smith, A.P. (2000a) Worlds within Worlds www.geocities.com/andybalik/introduction.html

Smith, A.P. (2000b) Illusions of Reality www.geocities.com/andybalik/tmm.html

Smith, A.P. (2001a) The Spectrum of Holons www.geocities.com/andybalik/kofman.html

Smith, A.P. (2001b) All Four One and One For All www.geocities.com/andybalik/footprints.html

Smith, A.P. (2001c) Excelsior www.geocities.com/andybalik/excelsior.html

Smith, A.P. (2001d) Up and In, Down and Out www.geocities.com/andybalik/upandin.html

Smith, A.P. (2001e) Footprints in the Sand www.geocities.com/andybalik/footprints.html

Smith, A.P. (2001f) Over the Rainbow www.geocities.com/andybalik/rainbow.html

Smith, A.P. (2001g) Why it Matters www.geocities.com/andybalik/WM.html

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Stebbins, G.L. (1982). Darwin to DNA, Molecules to Humanity (San Francisco: W.H. Freeman)

Thompson, D.W. (1992) On Growth and Form (New York: Dover)

Washburn, M. (1999) The Pre/Trans Fallacy Reconsidered www.tearsofllorona.com/washburn.html

Wilber, K. (1981) Up from Eden (Boston: Shambhala)

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Art Markman, PhD @ Psychology Today

There is a lot of evidence that people are overconfident in many judgments about themselves. If you ask a group of people how talented they are at some skill relative to the population as a whole (or even relative to a specific group that they are a part of), the average response is above average. This finding has sometimes been called the “Lake Wobegon” effect after the town in Garrison Keillor’s Prairie Home Companion where “all of the children are above average.” Of course, everyone can’t really be above average, and so at least some people are overly optimistic about their abilities.

What value does this optimism have?

A paper in the February, 2010 issue of the Journal of Experimental Psychology: General by Ying Zhang and Ayelet Fishbach suggests that being optimistic about your ability to perform some task may enhance your overall performance. However, this optimism is most useful when you expect the task you are about to perform is going to be difficult.

In one study, people were told that they were going to have to solve anagrams in which they had to rearrange the letters of a word to form other words. For example, the word “items” can be rearranged to form the words “times,” “mites,” and “emits.” They were led to believe that this task was going to be easy or difficult to do.

Before starting to solve the anagrams, half the people were asked to rate how well they would do on the task relative to everyone else doing it (knowing that the other participants would also be university students). Of interest, when people thought they were going to get a hard task, they felt that they would do better than 66% of the other participants, but when they thought they were going to get an easy task, they felt they would do better than only 54% of the participants. The other half of the people in the study did not rate how well they would do in the task relative to others.

The experimenters then measured how long people spent solving the anagrams. People who did not rate how well they would do compared to others spent about the same amount of time on the task whether they were led to believe that it was going to be easy or hard (with a slight tendency for those who thought it was going to be easy to spend more time than those who thought it was going to be hard.

Those people who rated how well they would do on the task showed a much different pattern. Those people who thought the task was going to be hard spent much more time on the task overall than those who thought the task would be easy. The optimism of the people who thought the task would be hard translated into effort on the task.

It isn’t that people are incapable of making accurate assessments of their performance. In another study, people made their judgments about how well they were going to do on the task under one of two different conditions. One group was told that their reward for doing the task would be based on their overall performance. A second group was told that their reward for doing the task would be based on whether their judgment of how well they would do relative to others was accurate.

The people who were rewarded for the accuracy of their judgment judged that they would be more likely to do well in the easy task than in the hard task, and they ended up spending more time at the easy task than the hard one. Those who were rewarded for their performance on the task, though, judged that they would do better on the hard task than the easy task. These people spent more time on the hard task than the easy one as well.

These results suggest that it can be valuable to be overly optimistic about your performance. In particular, when you are about to go where no one has ever gone before, you are better off going boldly where no one has ever gone before. The optimism in the face of difficult tasks will help you to put more effort into performing well.

Michael Lamport Commons,
Sara Nora Ross, and
Jonas Gensaku Miller

The first Beyond Formal Operations Symposium was held at Harvard in 1981. The resulting text Beyond Formal Operations (Commons, Richards, & Armon, 1984) was published by Praeger. There have been many subsequent publications on the subject. Occasionally people suggest that the postformal stages posited by theorists and empirical researchers could still just be formal stages or are otherwise too inadequately specified to justify them as different from the formal stage (e.g., Kallio, 1994; Marchand, 2001, 2008; Meyerhoff, 2005.) Formal stage thought and action is characterized by arguments based on empirical evidence, if-then linear logic, and hypotheses based on simple, one-variable causation (Commons, Trudeau, Stein, Richards, & Krause, 1998). Postformal stage thought and action is identified by many (e.g., Bassesches, 1984; Commons & Richards, 1984a, 1984b; Commons, Trudeau, Stein, Richards, & Krause, 1998; Cook-Greuter, 1990; Kegan, 1982; Loevinger, 1970) to occur after Piaget’s (Inhelder & Piaget, 1958) formal operations stage. These researchers find empirical measures to support their claims. Despite the decades-old and still growing body of empirical work demonstrating that some humans do perform postformally, here and there the notion persists that postformal behaviors are just some kind of expansions of formal stage behaviors. The motivation for this paper is to lay to rest, in definitive terms, the lingering signs of this decades-old confusion.

This confusion may have two sources. The first source, an historical one, is indicated in the adult development field’s early efforts to tease apart what Piaget was attempting to describe as his formal stage. Because he “was not clear enough about that himself” (Kohlberg, 1990, p. 264), some efforts (Demetriou & Efklides, 1985, 1986, as cited in Demetriou, 1990; Kohlberg, 1984) focused on developing finer ways to discriminate the composition of formal thought. Even those efforts revealed operations that corresponded with postformal stages already established by others, yet the operations were still being classified as various aspects of formal operations (Demetriou, 1990; Kohlberg, 1990). At this point, it might have appeared that arguments involved semantics as much as anything. But solid theory does not rest upon semantics. Beginning in the late 1970s, Commons & Richards (1978) had articulated a postformal stage and the requirements for new stage-generation, using the term stage generator. And they developed the General Stage Model (Commons & Richards (1984a, 1984b). At the same time, Fischer (1980) developed his levels. Yet the semantical differences persisted. Commons, Richards and Armon (1984) attempted to construct how the various models were coordinated. They made up a table with a description of the General Stage Model stages and asked people to place their own stages on the same grid.

Thus, the state of affairs in the then-young field of adult development was still characterized by the lack of coordinating the premises of its various stage theory sequences and to the extent to which they existed their systems. This lack of coordination motivated Kohlberg and Armon (1984) and Kohlberg (1990, p. 265) to advocate for a “hard stage model” of development. The General Stage Model, since formalized as a general theory of behavioral development and renamed the Model of Hierarchical Complexity (Commons, Goodheart, Pekker, Dawson, Draney, & Adams, 2007, 2008; Commons, Trudeau, Stein, Richards, & Krause, 1998), accomplished the purpose of specifying “hard stages,” although that term is not used in the Model.

The second source of confusion seems related to the first. It appears to be the case that if people do not recognize how or when such a “hard stage” requirement is met, this historical confusion persists. For example, even though a selection of Marchand’s (2005, personal communication) data was scored using the Hierarchical Complexity Scoring System and demonstrated the existence of postformal stages (Commons, Rodriguez, Miller, Ross, LoCicero, Goodheart, & Danaher-Gilpin, 2007), she recently again raised questions about the existence of postformal stages (Marchand, 2008, Marchand, H. & Kallio, E., 2009). What makes postformal stages postformal rather than formal stage extensions or expansions? Accordingly, our purpose here is to spell out, unequivocally, how and why postformal stages are not formal stages in any shape or form, or by any validated measure. A new stage is defined by the three axioms below. In Inhelder and Piaget, logical-mathematical structures were much too narrow and unnecessarily mentalistic. The Model of Hierarchical complexity replaced them with modern algebraic notions of: 1. “defined in terms of” as the higher order action are defined in terms of the lower order actions. 2. Organizes these lower order actions; 3. In a non-arbitrary way.

In the Model of Hierarchical Complexity, the structure is in the tasks. What a mental structure is other than a metaphor not clear. In MHC, Axiom 1 forces that development is organized in stages of different structural complexity, and therefore qualitatively different. This is because the higher order stage actions are defined in terms of the lower order ones. As discussed later on, the higher order actions cannot be equal to the lower order ones and are therefore qualitatively different. The higher order one is also one order higher.

In Piaget (1983), attaining a stage corresponded to a moment of equilibrium which was to be characterized by logical-mathematical structures. Equilibrium has been translated by Commons & Richards (2002), Sara Ross (2008) and Theo Dawson-Tunik, (2006) as the last step in stage transition.

The Stage Generator: What Makes a Stage a Stage
The first issue to address, then, is how any stage of development is specified without ambiguity. Historical ambiguity resulted from not understanding the process of stage generation, that is, how new, distinguishable stages come about at all. Piaget’s work articulated some of this process. However, by not articulating the entire stage generation process and all of its requirements, his work also contributed ambiguity beyond his own difficulties in describing formal and earlier stages’ operations. The Model of Hierarchical Complexity used and added to Piaget’s formulations of stage development to complete the explanation of how developmental stages are generated, and specify the necessary and sufficient axioms. This fills the knowledge gaps and removes the basis of confusion.

As a general theory, the Model of Hierarchical Complexity makes a distinction that other developmental theories do not. It distinguishes between the content- and scale-free order of hierarchical complexity inherent in any task, and the stage of performance of tasks at given orders of hierarchical complexity (for elaboration of this distinction, see Commons, Trudeau, Stein, Richards, & Krause, 1998). We mention this because while we use the terms order and stage below, readers may initially wish to ignore the distinction until the paper’s main arguments are presented. That is, when reading “order,” one may wish for the sake of temporary familiarity to relate it to one’s current conception of “stage.” This temporary mental substitution may support focus on this section’s objective. That objective is to explicate the generation of new stages of performance: the stage generator concept (Commons & Richards, 1978).

The starting point for understanding what makes a stage is expressed in the informal statements of the three main axioms.

• Axiom 1 of the Model of Hierarchical Complexity (Commons, Goodheart, et al., 2008) posits that consistent with Piaget, that higher order actions are defined in terms of two or more lower-order actions. In terms of set theory, A = {a, b} where A is the higher order set, and a and b are lower order actions that are elements of that set A.. Note that the element a cannot equal the set A. An element cannot equal a set formed out of that element.
• Axiom 2 of the Model specifies that the higher order action coordinates lower-order actions.
• Axiom 3 states that the ordering of actions is not arbitrary.

Together, these axioms specify a universal stage generator that is both necessary and sufficient to eliminate confusion or debates about what makes a stage a stage.

The validity of hierarchical complexity for measuring what makes a stage a stage has been established. Rasch analyses (1980) have been used to validate orders of hierarchical complexity (e.g., Adams, 2006; Commons, 2006; Commons, Goodheart, et al., 2007; Miller, 2008; Richardson & Commons, 2008; Robinett, 2006). Through seven studies to date, Dawson-Tunik’s (2006) work has validated the consistency with which hierarchical complexity accounts for stages of development across multiple other instruments that were designed to score development in specific domains. Along with other studies she performed, these support the claim that “the hierarchical complexity scoring system assesses a unidimensional developmental trait” and thus “satisfies the first requirement for good measurement, the identification of a unidimensional, context-independent trait” (pp. 445).

In sum, one task is more hierarchically complex than another task if:

1. It is defined in terms of two or more lower order task actions. This is the same as a set being formed out of elements. This creates the hierarchy
   A = {a, b} a, b are “lower” than A and compose set A
   A ≠ {A,…} A set cannot contain itself
2. It organizes lower order task actions. In simplest terms, this is a relation on actions. The relations are order relations
   A = (a, b) = {a, {b}} an ordered pair
3. This organization is non-arbitrary. This means that there is a match between the model-designated orders and the real world orders.
   Not P(a,b) not all permutations are allowed

We recognize the possibility, however, that as abstractions, perhaps neither axioms, nor set theory, nor references to validation studies provide sufficiently concrete explication for the reader. Thus, we offer explanatory discussion to flesh out the implications of stage generation, applied specifically to the stage of formal operations.

Formal Operations
If it were the case that whatever has been referred to as postformal stages over the last three decades actually amounts to formal stage behaviors, it would imply that the tasks at all the postformal orders of hierarchical complexity could be accomplished by people performing at the formal stage. Performance at the formal stage means that tasks, or actions, are at the formal order of hierarchical complexity. We address why postformal actions cannot be done at the formal order and why they are not a horizontal extension of the formal order in any sense. To support the following discussion, we first introduce the orders and stages of hierarchical complexity used in it. Table 1 provides descriptions of the orders from abstract to systematic.

Table 1. Orders of Hierarchical Complexity and Structures of Tasks




Order/Stage Ordinal and Name	General descriptions of tasks performed
9 Abstract	Discriminate variables such as stereotypes; use logical quantification; form variables out of finite classes based on an abstract feature. Make and quantify propositions; use variable time, place, act, actor, state, type; uses quantifiers (all, none, some); make categorical assertions (e.g., We all die.). Task: All the forms of five in the five rows in the example are equivalent in value, x = 5.
10 Formal	Argue using empirical or logical evidence; logic is linear, one-dimensional; use Boolean logic s connectives (not, and, or, if, if and only if); solve problems with one unknown using algebra, logic, and empiricism; form relationships out of variables; use terms such as if then, thus, therefore, because; favor correct scientific solutions. Task: The general left hand distributive relation is x * (y + z) = (x * y) + (x * z)
11 Systematic	Construct multivariate systems and matrices, coordinate more than one variable as input; situate events and ideas in a larger context, i.e., considers relationships in contexts; form or conceive systems out of relations: legal, societal, corporate, economic, national. Task: The right hand distribution law is not true for numbers but is true for proportions and sets. x + (y * z) = (x * y) + (x * z); x ∪ (y ∩ z) = (x ∩ y) ∪ (x ∩ z) Symbols: ∪ = union (total elements); ∩ = intersection (elements in common)

To indicate why postformal actions cannot be done at the formal order, that is, that they are not a horizontal extension of formal order action, it is only necessary to show that no next, systematic order task can be reduced to a chain of formal order actions. To show this we state that the systematic order actions are sets of actions from the formal order. Central to confusion to date may be set relationships. Sets cannot be equal to their members. Thus, A does not equal a, or b when A = {a, b}.

To show this, consider the empty set φ. Note that φ = { } has no members. Nothing means there are no members. How can φ = nothing when φ is a set and nothing is nothing? Something cannot equal nothing.

Two examples of this concept from set theory are given below. The first uses narrative from an established instrument called the Helper-Person Problem, and the second uses algebra.

The Helper-Person Problem begins with a vignette that relates the generic situation of a client or patient seeking assistance from a professional named Allen. After Allen speaks with the Person to assess the problem, the following sequence of actions is given:

• Allen offers to provide guidance and assistance.
• This form of guidance and assistance is seen as the most effective in treating this problem.
• Allen also presents other forms of guidance and assistance as well
• Allen discusses the benefits and risks of each as well, including doing nothing.
• Allen tries to understand the Person’s needs and concerns.
• Allen asks and answers many questions.
• Allen also observes the Person’s body language.
• Allen wants to know whether their body language matches their statements
• Allen asks if the Person is ready to make a choice.
• Allen tells the Person to base their decision on their previous discussion.
• The Person feels Allen knows best
• The Person accepts the guidance and assistance.

Formal statement 1 consists of

• Allen tries to understand the Person’s needs and concerns.
  This leads to
• Allen then asks and answers many questions.
  Together these form a formal order statement

Allen trying to understand the Person’s needs and concerns “causes” Allen to ask and answer many questions.

Formal statement 2 consists of

• Allen also observes the Person’s body language.
  This leads to
• Allen wants to know whether their body language matches their statements
  Together these form a formal order statement:

Allen observing the Person’s body language “causes” Allen to want to know if their body language matches their statements.

Together, these formal order statements form a system at the systematic order. In the first part of the system, Formal statement 1 is defined in terms of abstract statements 5 and 6. It organizes them into a causal sequence. Formal statement 2 is defined in terms of abstract statements 7 and 8. It organizes them in a causal sequence. Thus, there are two causal statements. Causal statements are defined as formal statements, that is, they rest on linear logic that uses one causal input. Each formal statement is a set formed out of two abstract statements. Each formal statement is independent of the other.

The systematic order coordination task is to form a set containing the two formal statements as elements. The systematic order coordination is reflected by statements 9 and 10: Allen asks if the Person is ready to make a choice. Allen tells the Person to base their decision on their previous discussion. This results in a system that coordinates the previous formal relations without the formal relations being repeated in the system. It forms a set containing the elements by forming a system that could not be formed without them as its elements.

To underscore the relation of set theory to the foregoing discussion, the system corresponds to a set. The formal relations that are not repeated in the system correspond to the elements of lower rank elements that comprise the set. That is, a set is not at the same rank as its elements, the elements are at a lower rank than the set, and therefore the set is not equal to its elements.

An example from Algebra may demonstrate the same distinction. Take the simple formal order equation,

x = ½ y – 1

There is a very simple solution at the formal order to solve for y.

But consider the pairs of equations

Equation 1: x = ½ y – 2z

Equation 2: 2x = y + 2z

There are no formal order actions that tell one how to work with two equations. Each of the equations belong to the set of actions at the systematic order, for reasons explained next.

At the formal order, solving a linear equation is straight forward. One puts the variable one wants to solve for on the left side, divides out its coefficient, and moves any other variables to the right hand side, remembering to multiply them by minus one. (This is the same as subtracting the term from both sides.)

Demands of solving two equations with two unknowns requires some way of combining equations. The only way to do this is to have some way of eliminating one of the variables. The only way to eliminate one variable is to make the same variable in the two equations have the same coefficient and then to combine the equations.

The systematic order task will be the coordination performed by adding the equations. There are other coordinations possible for solving these two equations. In each case, the goal is to eliminate one of the variables. Adding the equations is what is necessary but not available with just formal actions. One has to see that y is co-determined by both x and z, two input variables. This task does not exist at formal order, which can operate on only one input variable, i.e., solving for one unknown.

Therefore, the following is as far as one can go in solving each of the equations at the formal order:

Equation 1:
½ y – 2z = x
½ y = 2z + x,
y = 4z + 2x
y = 2x + 4z

Equation 2:
2x = y +2z
y = 2x – 2z
-y = -2x + 2z

The formal order task enables one to get the y unknown on the left side of each equation. Think about it. What is the formal action that tells you what to do? But, beyond the step of getting the y unknown on the left, step, there is no formal order action to inform one about the next step. Adding equations is not a task available in formal order actions. Adding equations is more complex in this algebra example because of the higher order task that algebraic solving for multiple unknowns involves. However, merely adding things in other cases is merely adding, which is horizontal, not vertical, complexity.

Hence there is no formal action that tells one how to combine two formal relations. Formal order actions include relations between variables. They do not include actions about how to combine two or more relationships among formal relations. Note that y is a function of x and z and is not a relation between variables. It is a relation among relations of variables. Such function relationships are systematic order tasks to conceive and operate upon. A set of relations is different and not equal to a member relation. Hence the action of adding equations is not a relation between variables but a relation among relations, so that a systematic order relation is the result of the sum of equations.

Theoretical Summary
Concepts from set theory were applied here to clarify why formal stage tasks can be coordinated only at the next stage, systematic. Consistent with Piaget and the Model of Hierarchical Complexity, the concepts apply to all stages that precede the formal stage, as well (and in the case of the Model), those that follow the formal stage). A central premise in these theories is that each next stage of performance coordinates the actions performed at the preceding order of complexity. To apply the premise successfully, the actions of each stage must be unambiguously specified. The stage generator concept successfully eliminates ambiguity about makes a stage a stage by precise specification.

The Model of Hierarchical Complexity specifies how these relationships of sets and their elements relate in the development of increasingly complex actions. The theory’s axioms may be used to test if an action is performed at a higher order of hierarchical complexity or not, i.e., if it is at the same or a higher stage. We supply simple sample material below to indicate how to do this, which supplements the higher stage Helper-Person items used earlier. There are three axioms, which can be used as follows to test this on content where there are two or more adjacent tasks or behaviors in a sequence. Although the first axiom was introduced above, it is repeated below in the set of all three axioms along with questions that can be used to apply them.

The informal statement of axioms below are next applied to the following examples. These examples supply content comprised of two or more adjacent tasks or behaviors in a sequence. The question to be addressed are the sequence of actions just a chain of behaviors or do they form a hierarchically ordered sequence?

• Axiom 1. Higher order actions are defined in terms of two or more lower order ones.
  Question to apply to each example: Is the last action in the sequence defined in terms of those that precede it? This is usually enough to reject that the sequence of actions under examination is a hierarchical sequence rather than just a chain of actions sequence.
• Axiom 2. The higher order actions organize or transform the lower order ones.
  Question to apply to each example: Does the last item in the sequence organize or transform,
  Organization may been putting the action is some temporal or spacial sequence of execution.
• Axiom 3. The organization is not arbitrary.
  Questions to apply to each example: Is the organization from the application of axiom 2 non-arbitrary? Could it be other than it is? Is it necessarily so, for the action under consideration to match some real world, logical, or mathematical constraint?
• Marchand (Personal communication, January 2010), also suggests that the MHC conception of stage may be more functionalist than structuralist (i.e., stage as performance of tasks of a given order. But there is probably both functionalism and structuralism in the MHC. The functionalism is that stages are based on performance on tasks. The structuralist part is that sequences that are generated using the MHC are ordinal structures. Each order is qualitatively different and irreducible to any of the lower orders.

  Piaget also has studied the functional aspects seeing development not only as succession of stages of equilibrium but also as moments of preparation and construction and of conclusiveness. He identified these two moments in formal stage (FA and FB). Theoretically, for Marchand, the systematic stage could be FB. But Kohlberg (1990) argued that it was FC. FA is abstract, FB is formal. Also Rasch Analyses (Commons, Goodheart, Pekker, Dawson, Draney, & Adams, 2008) validated the sequence from concrete, through abstract, then formal, systematic and then metasystematic.

  We are hopeful that this presentation is instructive and helps to lay to rest the confusions about the existence of stages that follow the formal stage and are not extensions of it or reducible to it.

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  ]]>Michael Lamport Commons, Sara Nora Ross, and Jonas Gensaku Miller The first Beyond Formal Operations Symposium was held at Harvard in 1981. The resulting text Beyond Formal Operations (Commons, Richards, &#038; Armon, 1984) was published by Praeger. There have been many subsequent publications on the subject. Occasionally people suggest that the postformal stages posited by<a href="http://integralbuddha.net/why-post-formal-stages-are-not-formal-but-postformal">&#160;&#160;[ Read More ]</a>http://integralbuddha.net/why-post-formal-stages-are-not-formal-but-postformal/feed0