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"The Truth, and Nothing but the Truth—Except Sometimes"

The average American lies 25 times a day, according to recent statistics. Does Buddhism say that lying is always wrong? This excerpt, adapted from David Michie's Buddhism for Busy People, takes a look at the surprising complexities of perfecting ethical behaviors.

Day one on your five-star African safari, and you and your friends are about to enjoy a banquet in the bush. It's lunchtime on a balmy granite outcrop. You're set up in the perfect spot—all cane furniture, white tablecloths and spectacular views. Everything seems perfect—until there's a commotion, and a buck suddenly comes bounding through the undergrowth. Catching sight of the group, it immediately veers left, charging back into the elephant grass.

You're a bit taken aback, but not unduly. But half a minute after the buck has disappeared, there's another scramble through the bush—this time it's a game warden that appears, followed by a panting, pink-faced hunter, rifle at the ready.

"Which way did it go?" they shout.

A simple question, but answering it isn't so straight�forward. And if you're a Buddhist it could present you with a significant ethical dilemma. Do you create black karma by telling a lie? Or do you tell the truth, and assist in the likely killing of a sentient being?

This is not my ethical brain-teaser, but Buddha's, one he used to illustrate the fact that ethical issues are often far from straightforward. Which does not excuse us from trying to practice ethics, but does recognize that lists of "dos" and "don'ts" aren't always foolproof, and that there is a more important factor that should always be considered.

Buddhism encourages us to get real about ethics. While practicing the first perfection of generosity can be transformational, if generosity is combined with slippery ethics the end result is unlikely to make us happy. So closely are the first two perfections related that they are sometimes likened to a bird's wings—both necessary to achieve lift-off.

As Buddha suggested, there is nothing straight�forward about ethics, even when we try to do the right thing. In the business world, notions like corporate responsibility, triple bottom line reporting, accountability and transparency suggest we are moving into a more ethical age. But the collapse of global accountancy firms, oil firms and IT companies remind us how easily ethical standards can be compromised. We might like to tell ourselves we do the right thing, but sometimes it's only when a mirror is held up to our face that we are con�fronted by the unattractive truth.

Even if we want to do the right thing, we may be concerned that by adhering to high ethics we'll put ourselves in a weak situation. If we work in an industry where everyone else "exaggerates," what will become of us if we don't? If we reveal every source of income to the tax department, how can that possibly benefit us at the financial year end? The karmic pay-off in our next lifetime may be wonderful, but who is going to pay this year's school fees?

Buddhism encourages us to analyze ethics from the perspectives of both the disadvan�tages of non-practice and the advantages of practice. To quote Geshe Loden, "The Buddha said that wishing for liberation but creating non-virtue is like a blind man looking in a mirror—a pointless exercise." Just as the man's visual handicap prevents him from seeing anything in a literal sense, an ethical handicap will prevent us from seeing the truth in our dharma practice. We can spend as many hours as we like in silent meditation, but if we also engage in duplicitous activities we might as well not bother.

The happiness that derives from ethics is not all about delayed gratification. People who are truly ethical—as opposed to merely sanctimonious—are frequently the most pleasant to be around. They are open, rather than guarded, because they don't have to conceal things. They are relaxed, free from the concern that past actions may come back to haunt them. So the happiness that comes from good ethics isn't all in the future, it is also here and now.

The practice of ethics is a vast subject within Buddhism, and includes eighteen root and 46 branch bodhichitta vows, starting with that most universally broken injunction against praising yourself and denigrating others. However, not even this framework provides all the answers to the troubling ethical issues that underlie contemporary headlines about economic refugees, stem cell research and nuclear waste disposal, let alone such age-old controversies as abortion and euthanasia.

Buddha did provide a useful principle, however, which he illustrated with his hunters and the buck story. In such circumstances, he said, the right ethical choice was to mislead the hunters about where the buck went in order to save its life. What really counts, he said, is motivation. The motivation to save the life of a sentient being is more important than the motivation to keep a vow of truthfulness which, in the circumstances, would have been a meaningless accomplishment.

David Michie

Being Generous for Selfish Reasons

Acceptance of the law of cause and effect invariably has the most transformative effect on our lives. In what is, for me, one of the most outstandingly ingenious aspects of Buddhist teachings, we come to realize that our own selfish interests lie in being altruistic. Just as the flowering of the lotus transcends the filth of the swamp, so too is it that those of us who normally think only of ourselves start to behave in a way that gives rise to outcomes far beyond our imagination.

If we want to be rich, it is in our own selfish interest to be generous. If we aspire to be good looking—at least in the next life, even if we have given up on this one!—then we should cultivate patience. Similarly, it is in our own self-focused best interest to maintain strict ethics, because in doing so we are maximizing our own future happiness and peace of mind.

The more mindful we become of our thoughts and behavior, the more alert we will be to the opportunities to cultivate causes for future positive effects. When people come knocking at the door collecting for charity, instead of resenting them we become grateful for an opportunity to enjoy future prosperity. Finding ourselves stuck in a bank queue, we may out of habit react with irritation until we remember that we've just landed the chance to improve our whole demeanor. Provocative neighbors, demanding bosses, irksome spouses—we can see all these not only as arising from our own past actions, but also as providing the means for us to break out of self-defeating patterns of behavior.

Through the concept of karma we have an amazing way to turn around our automatic, negative experiences of people and situations. How can you really be angry with someone who is merely the instrument through which you are experiencing your own karma? It is like hating the stick you are being beaten with, rather than the force wielding it. How can you feel rage towards people who by their actions are condemning themselves to experiencing the same unhappiness that you are—and probably far worse?

Because Tibetan Buddhism is a living tradition, we don't have to look back thousands of years to find quite breathtaking examples of the transformative effects of karma. The monk Palden Gyatso was captured by the Chinese when they invaded Tibet in 1959, and jailed for 33 years, during which period he was subjected to brutal mental and physical torture, including vicious electric shock treatment. Eventually released, he fled to Dharamsala, in northern India, where he met the Dalai Lama.

During this meeting, His Holiness asked about his experiences in jail. Having suffered to an extent most of us couldn't even begin to imagine, when asked what his worst experience had been, Palden Gyatso replied, "The fear that I would lose compassion for my jailers." While we can only aspire to such a level of heroic selflessness, to have in our midst real-life examples of what can be achieved through Buddhist practices is immensely reassuring.

Months, years or decades of being generous for selfish reasons begin to have a predictable effect. So habitual do our generosity, patience and ethics become that their original cause—self-advancement—is left behind. The mask becomes the person. What starts out as a contrived and self-conscious change of attitude and behavior results in a genuine metamorphosis. Especially when combined with other practices, including various meditations, by mindfully exercising the law of karma we have it in our power not only to create the causes for repercussions way beyond this particular lifetime, but to achieve transformation within it. To reinvent ourselves, and our futures. To become, like Palden Gyatso, beings of infinite love and compassion.

—Excerpted from Buddhism for Busy People

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More about the book . . .

What does it take to be happy? We've all asked ourselves this question at some point, but few of us have found the path to lasting fulfillment.

David Michie thought he had achieved his life's goals—the high-level job, the expensive city apartment, the luxury car, the great vacations—but a small voice was telling him he wasn't really happy. A chance remark from a naturopath sent him to his local Buddhist center. There he began the most important journey of his life.

In this simple but beautifully written book, David Michie opens the door to the core teachings of Tibetan Buddhism. With wry, self-deprecating humor, he shows us how he began to incorporate Buddhist practices into his daily life. He explains how he came to understand the difference between the temporary pleasures of ordinary life and the profound sense of well-being and heartfelt serenity that comes from connecting with our inner nature.
Every once in a while you come across an extraordinary book with the power to change your life. Buddhism for Busy People is one such book. * * *

More about the author . . .

David Michie is a corporate communications consultant, published novelist, and Buddhist practitioner. He lives in Perth, Australia.

Books by David Michie