What Does Madhyamaka Claim? Emptiness, Logic, and the Two Truths

The previous piece flew over the context to explain that madhyamaka is a method of explicating the prajnaparamita’s conception of sunyata. Now that we have landed there, we can explore the rich and bountiful terrain of the claims, proofs and consequences the madhyamaka uses to evidence sunyata. I hope this short tour makes you want to spend some time here with me.

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To understand what madhyamaka is, we can ask three cascading questions.

1. What does madhyamaka claim?
2. How can it prove those claims?
3. What are the consequences of those claims?

But first, we must define (and refine) some terms. The Sanskrit word madhyamaka is a compound of madhya (middle) + ama (superlative, most) + ka (adjectival suffix) translating as doing the middle-most. It is ubiquitously translated as ‘Middle Way’, which has roots in the canonical Pali/Sanskrit ‘madhyamā pratipad’ (middle path). Unfortunately, this rendering invites comparisons to other philosophical and religious concepts: Aristotle spoke of the ‘golden mean’ that influenced Judeo-Christian writings; the Quran speaks of a ‘middle course’ of worship; ‘everything in moderation’ is a popular idiom. Madhyamaka shares little with these approaches, so instead of muddying the waters with ‘middle way’ I leave the term untranslated. Like deja vu, schadenfreude, wabi-sabi, and sunyata, some terms resonate best in their original.

What Does Madhyamaka Claim About Reality?

What Are Svabhava and Sunyata?

Madhyamaka’s central concern is proving a negative: that there is no svabhava. This Sanskrit word describes a human view: that existence has some kind own-being; essential nature; independent existence; unchanging essence… some svabhava. Many philosophies, theologies, scientific theories, and popular intuitions all assert or implicitly believe in svabhava. If you have ever heard claims like: there is a true self; that phenomena exit independently; that there is some unchanging ‘core’ that bestows identity; that there is something that is outside cause and effect… all these assert, or imply, svabhava. Madhyamaka demonstrates the impossibility, unreality, incorrectness, of asserting svabhava. They do so with a description of sunyata - the lack of independent, unchanging, unitary, self-caused existence, of anything, anywhere, any time. Madhyamaka demonstrates that when we search for the svabhava of anything, we come up empty handed. So there is an illusion of an unchanging essence, which means, by definition, it is not real.

Mistaking the reality of sunyata for the illusion of svabhava has profound consequences. Here madhyamaka draws from the well of Buddhist thought: not realising sunyata (unconsciously imputing svabhava) causes all the friction and discontent in our lives. When we expect things to remain the same, based on our cognitive illusion they could, we suffer. This deserves further unpacking, but for our purposes, we have arrived at the central negative claim: there is no independence, separateness, unchanging, or own-being; realising sunyata is the antidote to ignorantly asserting svabhava.

This negative claim is bolstered by the positive explanation about reality without svabhava. Madhyamaka again draws from its Buddhist heritage by describing conventional reality as dependent origination. The Buddha described his own liberation in terms of awakening to the truth of dependent origination. Describing dependent origination is best achieved through example: consider that, for something to be during this moment, it relies on a host of other things, that are not it. This point is re-applied: for those other ‘supporting’ things, they too also rely on prior causes and conditions. And, for things in the future to be, they too will have to be a part of this causal field. It goes on like this, without beginning or end (note this is not a vicious regress because it provides a satisfactory explanation of causes and effects without endlessly shifting this explanatory power to some prior essential cause). We have a description of everything relying on a supporting causal field that is not identical to it. In such a view there cannot be any unchanging essence (as to be is to participate in change) thus svabhava is inferred to be illogical. Although madhyamaka might not need this positive view to prove a negative, I believe doing so is useful because by proving dependent origination, the possibility of svabhava is even further eliminated.

It cannot be overemphasised just how impactful rejecting svabhava is to our understanding of ourselves and the world. Doing so awakens us from a cognitive default that uncritically imputes svbavaha where there is none. Without it, assuming svabhava permeates our most basic, unreflected moment-to-moment experiences. This ignorant imputation perfumes our views to assume that things exist with something they do not have. This leads to ways of seeing that do not accord with reality.

How Does Madhyamaka Prove Its Claims?

In perhaps one of the most frustrating things for newcomers, there is no ‘master argument’ for sunyata. Madhyamaka encounters a view that posits a substance and demonstrates it to be illogical. This is performed on a case-by-case basis, turning on the details of any view presented. There is no essential or ultimate theory of sunyata. Instead, we learn how Madhyamaka dismantles svabhava in each case, by using tools of Indian philosophy that might be unfamiliar to you. These tools are chess to the European philosopher’s checkers: you may know the board, but these new pieces make a game infinitely more interesting. So, I concede that learning a new game on the same board can be tedious, and the first few attempts at the game more might feel more laborious. But when you understand these tools and get good at applying them, you will be disassembling the illusion of independent existence in no time. Four intertwining tools and claims are described below: fourfold logic; two truths, paradox and ineffability. Taken together, you will learn how to use sunyata to checkmate svabhava every time.

What Is the Catuskoti (Four-Cornered Logic)?

The catuṣkoṭi is a concept in Indian logic that proposes four possibilities for a truth claim: True; False; Both; Neither. The first two (True; False) are the standards used in everyday life: it is true the capital of Australia is Canberra; it is false the sun revolves around the earth. The other two options (Both; Neither) are less commonly understood, but can be logically proven. In the neither category, consider that contingent statements (the 50th President of America will be a woman) and indeterminate statements (there is a giant teapot spinning in space outside our galaxy) cannot be proven true, nor can they be falsified - thus they are neither true nor false. The final alternative, both, addresses the case where something both is and is not. This covers logical and semantic paradoxes (more below), but also extends to claims of identity and difference. Consider the question “is the Hudson River the same from one moment to the next?” In one sense, no, as the water, soil and animals are moving so there is no unchanging river. In another sense, yes, because locals and tourists alike all know where to point on a map, and where to walk, to see the Hudson River, and it does not stop being the Hudson River between the moments of pointing and walking, or between day and night. Thus the answer to the question “is the Hudson River the same from one moment to the next?” is both yes and no: it is true and false. It depends. So where ‘either/or’ binaries fail, the logical option both can step in to make sense of the world. This four-cornered logic gracefully moves any definition beyond ‘is or is not’, directly challenging the assumption that truth claims must be binary. This fourfold logic captures the dynamic, internally diverse, evolving features of ascribing truth to claims, to objects, and states of affairs.

What Are the Two Truths in Madhyamaka?

Describing reality as sunyata requires us to commit to a negative about reality whilst also not denying the conventional appearance of that reality. Without an account for appearances, critiques of nihilism are persuasive. The madhyamaka solution is elegant, but unorthodox, involving the bifurcation of ‘truth’ into categories of ‘relative’ and ‘ultimate’. Relative truth is the ordinary, conventional world of cause and effect, of day and time, of decisions and consequences. This reality is equated to dependent origination, a clearly appearing, co-construction of physical objects and minds to perceive them. Ultimate truth is the reality of sunyata. Nothing has any fixed, unchanging, essence. No svabhava can be found. When considered carefully, again and again, this reality can become so clear in our minds that it is a truth, it cannot be described any other way.

A common first reaction to hearing that reality is described using two truths is confusion. Things are either true or false! This stems from attempting to make sense of ‘two’ truths in a binary: like a see-saw where one end is up meaning the other must be down, or a light switch, where we view things as relative, switching to ultimate, then back to relative. But we have the fourfold logic, meaning relative and ultimate are both true at the same time. That is, reality clearly appears as dependent origination, without any svabhava, so is sunyata. These truths work together, are both true. But they are different enough to not collapse into each other either. So there are two truths.

Can Paradoxes Have Truth Value?

Another common reaction is to see this whole journey as simply paradoxical, unable to provide any helpful sense of describing the world. Before explaining how paradoxes are understood by madhyamaka, it is very important to differentiate a paradox from a contradiction. When two things or events that cannot occur at the same time are both asserted, it is a contradiction. Examples like ‘it is and is not raining’ and ‘the capital of France is and is not Paris’ indicate two mutually exclusive truth claims: it cannot be that the rain or a capital both are and are not. A paradox is different: it is when two claims both present as true, yet when combined lead to a false, circular or absurd conclusion. The easiest paradox to example is ‘this sentence is a lie’: it is a lie (the words together indicate it) which makes it true (an accurate claim)… which makes it a lie. Now recall our definition: paradoxes contain compatible truth claims that, when combined, lead to false, circular or absurd conclusions. This circularity stands in stark contrast to contradictions of conjoined mutual exclusives.

This distinction is necessary because the prajnaparamita routinely invokes paradox in its reasoning. The Heart Sutra states, “Form is emptiness, emptiness is form”; the Diamond Sutra states “All dharmas are dharma-less. That is why they are called ‘all dharmas’”; the Noble Great Teaching Vehicle Sutra states *“*the illusions appear but are nothing whatsoever.” The madhyamaka explains that these logical merry-go-rounds are not an error, but best reflect reality. If sunyata and dependent arising are both true, but taken together appear to frustrate the other, we need ways to hold the paradox, lest these claims be doomed to failure.

For those trained in ‘classical’ philosophy, this might be the final straw, ready to reject the madhyamaka as irrational. They argue the well-established principles [PEM; PMC] of classical logic demonstrate why paradoxes are not logical. At best, they are a quirky corner of language and syntax that should not be taken seriously. However, contemporary non-classical logics, including paraconsistency and dialetheism, advocate that some paradoxes can have truth value. This is a rabbit hole I am happy to go down with you. But we can be overjoyed that madhyamaka is bolstered by these contemporary philosophical endeavours. The one practical takeaway we need from this tool is if a claim is paradoxical, that is not reason alone to dismiss it.

What Role Does Ineffability Play in Madhyamaka?

The definition of ineffable is “incapable of being expressed in words”. An ineffable thing cannot be described. And yet, the last two sentences did, in some sense, achieve a description. Technically this is another example of self-reference paradoxes. Both of the claims ‘something being ineffable’ and ‘a definition of ineffable’ are true yet when they together, they generate a vicious circle without any way to stop the motion. This paradox is not isolated to the definition, but the concept. Consider the following:

• Can you describe the indescribable? (No… but in saying ‘no’, you just did some describing)
• Are there more or less accurate ways to speak about the unspeakable? (Surely yes, but also technically no!)
• Can a sign help indicate signlessness? (No, but there would be more and less effective instances, so suddenly, yes).
• Is there a conceptual label that best indicates being beyond all labels? (I’m open to suggestions on that one…)

I have learned to enjoy these paradoxes immensely, brushing up against what can be expressed at the limits of thought. They are brought up because, when Buddhist thinkers describe sunyata as formless or signless, they rely on logical system that they are also transcending. They need the rigour and clarity provided by logical analysis of truth claims, whilst also knowing when to put the tools down and let sunyata reverberate. Yet, the only way to tune in is to talk about it, to make conventional and cognitive sense of it. How peculiar, how fascinating, and if viewed in the right way… how liberating.

To summarise: for madhyamaka to evidence the lack of svabhava, they use tools that can handle both paradox and ineffability, relying on a bifurcation of truth possible using four-valued logic. You can certainly see why I didn’t lead with that mouthful of a sentence!

What Are the Consequences of These Claims?

A fair question might be… so what? Yes sunyata, no svabhava… what is the big deal? This final part will describe four consequences for our understanding of the world.

What Is Anti-Foundationalism?

One of the oldest pursuits of philosophy has been to ground reality; to give a basis, or foundation, from which all explanatory structures can be built. Most religions do this though their creator deity (or deities), which then go on to explain how things exist, how to behave, and the purpose of life. Philosophers also attempt to provide a ground to reality without relying on god(s), perhaps though invoking the human mind’s capacity for knowing. More recently, scientists turn their mathematics and empirical methods to posit a fundamental reality, be it in theoretical particles or in mental neutrons firing away. Painting with the broadest brush, they are pursuing ‘foundationalism’: they posit or seek some bedrock of reality.

Madhyamaka is familiar with foundationalist thinking, as it was common view at the time. Even the earliest Buddhists posited a theory of ‘existing bare particulars’ to explain our causal world. Madhyamaka reasoned if all things are sunyata, there is no ground of reality. Attempting to find a ground is looking for something with svabhava, an unchanging substratum for reality, and we are well-versed in showing this cannot be the case. Thus for madhyamaka, positing a ground raises more problems that it solves: no matter how far one looks, such a ground cannot exist. This is not nihilistic, as all things being sunyata means they arise in dependence, so exist in endless causal relations that need no ground to function. I like this visual description: no one ever gets hurt falling, it only hurts once you hit the ground.

What Is Mereological Nihilism?

Mereology is the philosophical exploration of ‘parts and wholes’. It might not seem like a real page-turning subject, but it plays a central role in our understanding of identity and difference. The Ship of Theseus is a textbook example of a mereological question. Say you had a wooden ship, and after a voyage, some repairs are needed, so you replace some of the boards. Next journey, the mast breaks, so you find port and repair it. While there, you buy new anchors and ropes too, selling the old ones to another crew. Imagine this process going on like this until, one day, every part of the ship has been replaced. It shares no ‘original’ or ‘founding’ parts. Can we still consider it, on the whole, the same ship?

Where every other approach to this mereological problem takes a binary side (yes/no), the madhyamaka bursts the bubble and says both. Relatively, we use language to refer to the ship, and those conventions are active no matter the planks, ropes etc. In addition, the madhyamaka takes the application of change so much further: it is not only during repairs and upgrades that the ship is changing, it is changing every moment. Thus, to speak ultimately there is no unitary, unchanging ship. So ‘the ship’ is real by convention, but lacks ultimate existence… both truths are true, working together to account for wholes and parts. Applying the ‘two truths’ like this illuminates the dependence of parts and wholes (and wholes on parts), which is further evidence that neither have svabhava. There are no intrinsic parts or wholes: so we arrive at mereological nihilism.

Is Madhyamaka Realist or Anti-Realist?

Some of the deepest (and strangest) questions of human thought turn on reality: what is reality? Are things real? These lines of questions appear easy to answer, but the more one goes looking for evidence, the less they will be convinced. Much like the debates on mereology, most thinkers are divided: there are realists who argue that things exist independently (like with svabhava, for example) and there are antirealists, who argue that either things don’t exist at all (global antirealists), or some particular things do not exist independently of human features, like mind, or language (local antirealists). The debates between them are for you to explore. But, as is hopefully becoming predictable, the madhyamaka is going to weave between them.

It should be clear that madhyamaka is not realist: the claim that all things are sunyata is in response to the realist claims of svabhava. Madhyamaka also argues against any ‘strong’ conception of antirealism that results in nihilism (nothing exists) through using the two truths: there is a relative, conventional, shared reality of causes and effects… just ultimately not so. Invoking the two truths further sidesteps the distinction between ‘global’ and ‘local’ antirealists, who differ on the scope of what we can label real or unreal. It is both, it is neither. Thus I am using the non-technical but more accurate ‘anti(ish)-realism’ over the formally recognised but ill-fitting ‘antirealism’. Madhyamaka is certainly not realist, but also has a lot to say about conventional reality. Hence, to answer to the question ‘are things real?’ the madhyamaka replies… ‘ish’.

Why Is Ethics Central to Madhyamaka?

Both the four tools and the above results can appear a bit ‘heady’, abstracted from the concerns of the real world. I want to end this introduction with a bang: ethics is central to madhyamaka. Madhyamaka uses the depth of Buddhist ethical teachings to evidence the need for moral conduct to perceive sunyata directly and achieve the same liberation as the Buddha. Buddhist ethics is its own field of inquiry, oriented towards awakening. It is firmly motivated by causes and effects, that extend to include the intention and results of an action. It also relies on the experiential mentality of ethical and unethical behaviour, so phenomenology is equally important. And how to balance ethical concerns with the claim that all things are sunyata requires careful discernment and judgement, so there can be no fixed ethical absolutes. Ethics is so central to the madhyamaka that it will be the final part of this introduction. But this point is included in this section so it cannot be missed: ethics is central to madhyamaka.

Conclusion

We began with madhyamaka’s central claim of sunyata, the negative doctrine that rejects svabhava. We learned new ways of proving claims, including fourfold logic, two truths, paradox and ineffability. We applied them and discovered anti-foundationalism, mereological nihilism, and anti(ish) realism. We finished by teasing the next part, where I show that madhyamaka cannot be made sense of without ethics. Read on to discover why…