Ajahn Brahm at Cambridge
Prof Bernard Carr
I first met Ajahn Brahm (or Pete Betts as he was then) when we were students together in Cambridge 45 years ago. The story of our meeting is now well-known and even recorded in a YouTube interview with Ajahn. I was a member of the Cambridge University Buddhist Society (CUBS), recruiting new members at the Societies Fair in October 1969. He was keen to join immediately but apparently I urged restraint and suggested that he wait until after the first talk to confirm that Buddhism really was his ”cup of tea”. However, he rejected my advice and joined immediately.
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After such a long time I cannot recall this incident very clearly. After all, I must have recruited – or discouraged! – many other people that day but it illustrates an important point. One never knows which encounters in life will turn out to be important – just as one never knows which person in a crowd will change the world or which moment will bring enlightenment. An occasion which seems insignificant for one individual may be life-changing for another. It is like the butterfly which flaps its wings and later causes a storm on the other side of the world. In this case, I was the butterfly and maybe the conference at Perth is the storm, although that is hardly the best image to associate with the Buddhist message of peace.
I’m not sure whether I come out of this story as the hero who recruited Ajahn to Buddhism or as the villain who might have put him off but I confess to rather enjoying the ambiguity. With the wisdom of hindsight, I can only infer that I was testing his resolve. Indeed, this relates to another early incident at Cambridge. One of Pete’s first challenges as a Buddhist was to take a 10-day rice and water diet. Our mutual friend Geoff Perry decided to test his resolve by inviting him to tea and asking him to toast and butter his crumpets. In those days, nothing was more tempting to a young student than hot buttered crumpets, so Geoff probably expected Pete to succumb to temptation. But he didn’t, so Geoff realized that Pete was serious about Buddhism and had chosen the right path. The moral of both these stories is that Pete was being tested – after all, testing is an essential part of university life – and in both cases he passed!
Ajahn recalls that the talks to CUBS were rather academic and lacking in humour. This may have been true sometimes. I recall one talk at which the chairman – who was sitting at the front with the speaker – fell asleep and started snoring! However, since I should still be encouraging people to join CUBS, I must stress that this was not always true. I remember many inspiring talks and on one occasion the Dalai Lama came to tea and spoke to us. However, that was after Pete had left, so he did not butter the crumpets on that occasion! In any case, Buddism in Cambridge was not only about attending talks. It was also about meditation and we were both introduced to Samatha by Nai Boonman, a former Thai monk who came to England in 1963 and taught meditation to students at Cambridge for 10 years before returning to Thailand.
We did not only know each other through Buddhism. We were also both studying physics and we were both members of the Cambridge University Society for Psychical Research (CUSPR). Indeed, we met Geoff Perry through the CUSPR. Psychical research aims to examine scientifically those interactions between minds or between matter and mind which cannot be explained by the current scientific paradigm. This includes phenomena life telepathy, clairvoyance, precognition and psychokinesis (which can be examined experimentally) and more dramatic phenomena like apparitions, poltergeists, out-of-body experiences and spirit communications. So we used to spend a lot of time ghost-hunting, visiting mediums and trying to levitate tables.
As I emphasized in my conference talk, psychical research forms a bridge between science and spirituality because meditation may lead to the development of psychic powers (“siddhis”). Indeed, I probably had more psychic experiences at Cambridge through meditation than CUSPR activities. However, being on such a bridge is not comfortable: scientists tend to regard psychical research as too mystical (and generally discount the phenomena altogether), while mystics tend to regard it as too scientific, a distraction from the spiritual path (like flowers on the wayside). Not many CUSPR members were interested in spiritual matters but myself and Pete were and this helped to cement our friendship. In any case, building a bridge because science and spirituality is important because otherwise there will always be a gulf between them.
Two experiments that I conducted at Cambridge illustrate how science can shed light on spirituality. The first was a telepathy experiment with the Samatha group after a meditation session, in which I looked at images with strong emotional content and the meditators had to “pick up” the emotions. I think the group was surprised that Nai approved but he did and we found interesting (if unexpected) results. There was a correlation but it was with one of the meditators rather than with me!
The second experiment involved an attempt to weight the soul at Addenbrookes hospital in 1970. The idea was that the soul should leave the physical body during sleep, so – if the soul has weight – this should be indicated by a decrease in weight on falling asleep and a corresponding increase on awakening. I cannot claim that the results were very convincing but it does illustrate how a spiritual question – about the existence of the soul – can potentially be addressed scientifically. Pete took part in these experiments but I don’t think he gave positive results. So either he didn't fall asleep or his soul is very light!
After graduating, Pete and I followed different paths, scientific in my case and spiritual in his. I remained at Cambridge and become a physicist, studying for my PhD under Stephen Hawking and eventually becoming a Professor in London. As is well known, Pete moved to Thailand and studied under Ajahn Chah, eventually becoming an Abbott and founding the monastery at Bodhinyana. People often ask me whether Hawking has an interest in spiritual matters. He doesn't but that is fine because he would not have been such a great physicist if he had spent his time meditating. One cannot do everything in a single lifetime and the world needs both great physicists and great spiritual teachers.
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Despite our divergent paths, Ajahn and I have maintained the three interests which brought us together at Cambridge – science, psychical research and Buddhism – albeit to different degrees. I left CUBS when I moved to London in 1985 but I am still interested in Buddhism, even though I’ve not advanced much spiritually and I certainly don’t expect to attain enlightenment in this lifetime. I believe Ajahn has also kept abreast of developments in science and psychical research.
We have also remained friends and meet occasionally on his visits to London. However, this is the first time I have been to Perth and I am tremendously grateful to Ajahn and his colleagues for all the hospitality I have received here. When I became his friend, I did not realize that this would bestow such benefits 45 years later. The three days I have spent at Jhana Grove have been particularly special – not only on a personal level but also perhaps because they symbolize a reunion of science and spirituality, of which our personal reunion is but a reflection.
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