In what is considered to be one of the greatest paragraphs written in the English language Thomas Jefferson asserted that “all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”.
The order proposed for these unalienable rights reveals their relative importance: First, life (i.e., survival). Second — liberty (i.e., freedom). And thirdly — the pursuit of happiness. The take-away message is this: The pursuit of happiness can not be attended to if either survival or freedom are threatened.
As discussed in the section on Happiness above, the three prerequisites on which the pursuit of happiness stands are inner peace, passion and compassion. Freedom impacts all three. Loss of freedom is a threat to peace (and all peace is inner peace). Loss of freedom gets in the way of sustaining passion (if only through its negative impact on attention, as you will see if you keep on reading). And lastly, loss of freedom undermines compassion (by increasing the challenge of acceptance).
All sentient beings prefer freedom to the alternative. Freedom is another (perhaps the leading) concept in a long list of ideas that are difficult to define, but everybody knows ‘what it feels like’. The feeling of freedom is so important to us that the act of reducing a person’s freedom is a universal form of punishment; the mere threat of the loss of freedom is an effective deterrent from the behavior that might trigger it.
Freedom is so valuable that governments (and government-like bodies) justify asking parents to send their children to die on strange battlefields with the excuse that it is necessary in order “to protect (our) freedom.” The complementary part of this marketing of ‘freedom’ is the justification of killing whoever is deemed a threat to freedom. This deeply ingrained absurdity appears even more bizarre in light of the fact that the vast majority of the people who embrace it would be hard-pressed to define what freedom is, or even say something meaningful about it beyond the uninspiring and insufficient notion that we “know what freedom feels like”.
The attribution of a supreme value to freedom is shared by all animal species (plants, in comparison, are living organisms that do not appear to be sensitive to freedom). I propose that an organism’s affinity to freedom is evidence of its awareness of its own existence and thus, evidence that it is a sentient being.
Even insects appear to prefer to be free. If you put a glass over an ant, once it recognizes it’s entrapment it will display “ant distress”. When a bee flies into a room it will display signs of “bee distress” once it recognizes it has lost freedom . The distress is exhibited long before anything else other than a loss of freedom (such as hunger or isolation) could account for it.
The bottom line is that freedom is an extremely important phenomenon on our planet. Arguably, second in its importance only to the phenomenon of life itself. Freedom is surely important enough to justify obtaining a better than the prevailing understanding if it. We simply need to know more about freedom than “what it (or its loss) feels like.”
Freedom is the degree of influence one has over one’s position. Human beings experience freedom on two levels: physical and mental. All other sentient beings clearly experience physical freedom; mental freedom is, arguably, a distinctly human experience.
Physical freedom is a measurement of one’s influence over his or her physical movement and position. For example, physical barriers (such as shark infested water surrounding your island, or iron bars preventing your exit from a cell) that restrict one’s movement and thus reduce one’s influence over their position amount to a loss of freedom. At the other end of the spectrum, access to a working car contributes to freedom, because it increases one’s influence over one’s position by increasing the feasible range and speed of one’s movement. Similarly, a passport — a document required to move from one country to another, is something we associate with freedom. Hence, revoking one’s passport is a loss of freedom.
The definition of freedom explains the connection between money and (physical) freedom: For example, if you have the money to buy a car (and gas) or if you have money to purchase an airplane ticket you have more influence over your position, and thus more freedom, than if you can’t.
The act of purchasing something is an expression of (financial) freedom. In the act of buying something the buyer exerts influence over their position relative to the position of the object purchased; in exchange for money an object is moved from a far away place, such as a shelf in the Amazon kingdom, closer to the buyer’s domain, such as a shelf in one’s living room.
As mentioned above, reducing someones influence over their physical position is how we punish. From sending a child to sit facing a corner for a few minutes, to sending a criminal to a life in prison, the loss of freedom — the reduction of a person’s influence over their position, is the punishment.
The same definition applies to mental freedom. Mental freedom is a measurement of one’s influence over his/her mental position; influence over one’s own mental process.
For example, political freedom begins with the capacity to move (idealogical, i.e., mental) support from one political party to another. Modern dictators (e.g. the late Iraqi dictator Saddam Hussein or the Russian dictator Vladimir Putin) claim to be in power as a result of a democratic process. To support this they boast of running impeccable democratic elections. These elections come with a single caveat — only one candidate is permitted to run. To have a range of movement there need to be at least two points to move between. In the case of democratic elections, the process depends on having (at least) two candidates to choose from. A single candidate system offers zero range of motion. No range of motion equals no freedom. The same applies to religious freedom, which can be considered the ability to move one’s choice of worship from one deity or religion to another. Freedom of speech is a measurement of one’s influence over the position of their ideas, thoughts and beliefs. Freedom of speech is a function of the level of restriction to moving ideas (which requires speech) from one’s own brain to others’.
The “mother of all freedoms” is freedom of choice. In order to exercise freedom of choice, in addition to having multiple options to choose from, it is also necessary to have the capacity to shift attention between the available options. Therefore, anything that interferes with paying attention can contribute to a loss of freedom.
Pain (any pain — physical or mental, acute or chronic) is an example. Pain gets priority in terms of distribution of attention. Pain can hijack attention such that there is not enough of it left to attend anything else. This results in the subjective experience of entrapment and worse suffering.
Fear can have the same effect. The infliction of fear (as in terrorizing an individual or a population) consumes attention, ultimately reducing freedom, which equals causing suffering. Any deliberate attempt to inflict fear, any threat of violence and of course, any act of war, is an act of terrorism, and it makes no difference if the source is a rogue organization or a state government. (Fun fact about terrorism — Terror organizations have been disproportionally focused on attacking modes of transportation, such as airports, airplanes, trains, buses and ships; this is peculiar because these are not population-dense targets. Targeting modes of transportation is (subconsciously or consciously) an assault on the victim population’s sense of influence over its movement — an assault on freedom.)
Appreciation of the importance of attention as a factor relevant freedom, and therefore, to the pursuit of happiness, reveals one of the reasons for the importance of the practice of meditation: Meditation can improve attention.
Think about attention as a spotlight that can illuminate different sections of a stage (of consciousness). In meditating the practitioner begins with cultivating an ability to observe how this “spotlight” works; with practice one becomes increasingly aware of how the “spotlight” shifts, thus illuminating different sections of “the stage”. From this awareness the practitioner cultivates the ability to exert deliberate influence on the “spotlight” so that it shines on a specific, chosen part of “the stage”, rather than randomly or reactively shifting all over the place. In other words, the practice of meditating is geared to first improve one’s ability to notice what their mind is attending to (i.e., by paying attention to one’s attention) and then to improve one’s ability to direct and sustain attention on a chosen target. (See the section on Meditation for more on this topic https://whatilearnedsofar.com/practice/meditation/ )
Loss of freedom — (i.e., entrapment or incarceration) physical or mental, is suffering. Loss of freedom inevitably threatens (inner) peace. In turn, loss of inner peace is usually followed by loss of passion and loss of compassion. As you recall, inner peace, passion and compassion are the prerequisites of the pursuit of happiness. Hence, ultimately, the trapped mind finds itself failing in the pursuit of happiness.
To experience freedom, physical or mental, it is necessary (but not sufficient) to have a range of motion, a range of movement (physical or mental, respectively). The broader the range of motion the greater the freedom. A limitation to one’s range of motion limits their freedom.
Consequentially, open-mindedness is of the utmost importance in the pursuit of happiness (and is therefore discussed in detail elsewhere). A “closed” or “narrow” mind is incompatible with an effective pursuit of happiness. It lacks a range to move in, so it is essentially incarcerated or trapped. A closed mind can be considered a form of suffering.
There are a number of ways for a mind to fall into a trap. Addictions, for example, are a form of mental incarceration. Mental entrapment can also result from certain emotional experiences (both are discussed at some length below). However, the most prevalent form of mental imprisonment is ignorance.
Ignorance is suffering. Ignorance is a mental prison and as such it prevents an effective pursuit of happiness. Enlightenment is the opposite of ignorance. According to Buddhist thinking, full enlightenment — the complete abolishment of ignorance, is the cessation of suffering.
Realistically, full enlightenment may not be within our (immediate) reach. We may need to be satisfied with moving in its direction, i.e., with the reduction of ignorance, a ‘broadening the mind’. Reducing ignorance is an investment in freedom and the pursuit of happiness. Ignorance can be reduced by formal education, informal education (for example, via apprenticeship or travel) and by certain forms of contemplative meditation.
Freedom and Addictions
Contrary to popular belief, freedom is not the capacity to do whatever one wants to do. This fact is effectively, but tragically, captured by the phenomenon of addiction. Addicts do what they wants to do — they score their fix, regardless of the cost. ‘Scoring the fix’ while knowingly destroying everything in one’s path is the essence of the addiction process. That is how “the addict mind” works — it will sacrifice everything for the fix. Given the inevitable (and typically horrific) destruction caused by addictions, it is ridiculous to consider an addiction as liberating.
“Doing what I want to do” is not the same as being free. As illustrated by the addiction example, it is actually the exact opposite — “scoring the fix” amounts to a further loss of freedom. Digging oneself deeper into the trap. This is important because the potential to develop an addiction is universal; each of us is (or can be) addicted to something. Arguably, the potential to develop an addiction is a defining human trait.
(Footnote: The ‘addiction-behavior’ is a different phenomenon from the ‘addiction-syndrome’, a medical condition hallmarked by objective withdrawal-symptoms rather than by a behavior.)
The centerpiece of the addiction behavior is poor choice making. Active addicts repeatedly choose to feed the addiction in spite of the awareness of the choice’s destructive nature. This irrational behavior is driven by a wish to contain a sensation referred to as ‘craving’.
Our cravings are not limited to external intoxicating chemicals (such as alcohol or heroin). We can equally crave security, wealth, fame, adoration, intimacy, love, power, influence, recognition, status, justice, and so on. Of course, we also crave freedom and happiness. Regardless of what one craves, a compulsive willingness to destroy one’s own self and, essentially, anybody connected to the self in return for relief from craving can not be compatible with an effective pursuit of happiness.
In choosing to get the fix the addict opts for short term relief from the craving at the cost of long term suffering. Every time the fix is applied to alleviate the craving the craving becomes more intense. Addicts are trapped in this cycle. Buddhist thinking recognizes this as the ‘cycle of addiction’ (sometimes referred to as ‘the cycle of suffering’) and considers it a central problem in the human condition.
The cycle of addiction has three phases, three mental states, each beginning as soon as the previous one ends: In the first phase the mind is under the influence of the intoxicant (the acute intoxication); it is followed by a stage of recovery from the intoxication (the hang-over) which, in turn, is followed by the craving phase. As cravings intensify they culminate with getting the ‘fix’ and the cycle starts over. A human brain trapped in the cycle of addiction never gets to a state of clarity from which it can produce reliable, or high quality, choices.
The way out of this horrific cycle is only through the craving phase. To break the cycle the addict must develop tolerance of (the suffering that is) the craving. There is no other out. Tolerance of the craving is a non-negotiable requirement in overcoming any addiction, from heroin to adoration. It is impossible to overstate the importance of tolerance as an instrument that, by protecting freedom, supports the effective pursuit of happiness. (Exercising tolerance is associated with the practice of cultivating inner discipline and with self respect which are discussed elsewhere.)
As I said above, the potential to develop an addiction may be a defining human trait. We are all at risk of finding ourselves trapped in the cycle of addiction. Worse yet, we are at risk of being trapped in it without realizing that we are. Driven by our cravings we are capable of making poor choices that are guaranteed to damage the pursuit of happiness. Since it is possible to be trapped in the addiction cycle without realizing it, we must commit to a persistent effort to monitor our thoughts and decision-making processes for hidden evidence of intoxications and cravings. Specifically, this means that we must develop a habit of examining the intent and the incentive behind each of our choices before we implement them. (More on this elsewhere.)
As I said, an addiction can go unrecognized or denied by the addict (at least for some time; eventually the consequences do become undeniable). This brings to mind the incalculable value of intimate relationships. The defining elements of intimacy are interpersonal closeness and trust. Intimate relationships can be established with friends, family members, and life-partners, as well as with a spiritual leader, a teacher, or a psychotherapist. An intimate relationship provides an environment in which one may be able to hear and heed (rather than reject, deflect or ignore) warnings about one’s own addict-behaviors.
Freedom and Emotions
Emotions have a potential to cause suffering because of their impact on (mental) freedom. Intense emotions reduce the mind’s range of motion. Even favorable (i.e., ‘positive’) emotions can restrict mental freedom. Anyone who has fallen in love should be able to relate. While “fallen” (in love), the ability to think about anything else but the person one has fallen in love with is diminished, sometimes severely so. This translates into a loss of influence over one’s mental position — i.e., loss of freedom, which equals suffering.
Buddhist terminology refers to a number of negative emotions as ‘intoxicating emotions’. These are hatred, anger, greed, lust, envy and arrogance. The intoxicating emotions are obsessional. It is difficult to think about anything else under the influence of an intoxicating emotion. Thus, an intoxicating emotion reduces the range of mental motion. The intoxicating emotions are like glue that sticks, or attaches, the mind to a single point in the mental terrain. The hate-filled mind is attached to the destruction of what it hates. The angry mind is attached to getting revenge. Minds intoxicated by greed, lust and envy are attached to the coveted objects of their desire, and the envious mind is attached to its entitlement.
Intoxicating emotions thus restrict one’s mental range of motion making it difficult, if not impossible, to think about anything outside of the focal point of the intoxication. Inevitably this amounts to a loss of one’s influence over one’s mental position which is, once again, synonymous with loss of mental freedom, an unaffordable loss in the pursuit of happiness.
Loss of mental freedom can be inflicted by eliciting any of the intoxicating emotions. Anger and hatred may be the easiest entrapping emotions to elicit in another person. Containing, and ultimately neutralizing, the reflexive negative emotional response amounts to protecting freedom. It is a core aspiration in the practice of mindfulness.
The revered, late Nelson Mandela exemplifies this. Mr. Mandela’s physical freedom was taken away from him for almost three decades. His incarceration (as are all political imprisonments) was not a punishment for a crime but rather, an attempt to inflict enough pain and suffering to cause him to respond with hatred of his captors and rage at his predicament. Responding with such would have been his (expected) defeat. Mandela, however, transcended the trap and did not succumb to hatred. In so doing he demonstrated something universally uplifting about the human spirit: It has the capacity to protect mental freedom in the face of the loss of physical freedom.
Mr. Mandela’s unequivocal refusal to succumb to hatred, together with his unwavering highest level of inner discipline, kept him mentally free while physically incarcerated in the most horrific conditions. He offers us an inspiring example of the human spirit’s ability to maintain mental freedom in the face of the most horrific forms of physical oppression.
We often encounter similar circumstances, a much smaller scale, in our daily lives. Whenever we experience a pain that our brain concludes was deliberately (or even carelessly) inflicted on us by another person. When that happens we are at risk of responding automatically, reflexively, with anger or even hatred. Even the (perception of a) threat of pain, to which we typically respond with fear or anxiety, can be enough to trigger an intoxicated emotional response. This reflexive negative emotional response (as I keep repeating) leads to a loss of mental freedom which, in turn, makes the initial offense seem much worse. It is an entry point into a damaging (psychological and interpersonal) cycle, the cycle of suffering. It is simple logic to resist following habits that lead to entering it. It is equally logical to make efforts to change such habits.
A dangerous feature of emotional intoxications is the legitimization of the use of force. Force simply does not fit into the pursuit of happiness (arguably, the use of force can be justified in the survival arena, but not in the pursuit of happiness). Instead of the use of force, in the pursuit of happiness one must rely on using strength. The difference is tolerance. We invite the use of force when tolerance ends — when we lose the willingness to experience a discomfort or a pain without reacting to it. The application of force in the pursuit of happiness is guaranteed to have a cost that exceeds any benefit (usually there is no benefit at all) from it. The insistence on the use of force (when survival is not at stake) is ignorant or delusional. To a large extent, investing the necessary effort to overcome the costly consequences of our primitive habits, ignorance and propensity for delusional thinking is the practice of cultivating mindfulness.
It is common, at times seemingly inevitable, to judge a person that (appears to have) caused you pain as bad: irresponsible, inconsiderate, or outright dangerous. It is surprisingly quick an easy to become attached to the conclusion that the incentive behind their hurtful behavior has to be negative — selfish or, at best, self-centered. Overlooking all other possible explanations but the one that fits the negative emotion is a part of the intoxicated emotional response. When this happens the result is (one more time – a loss of range of mental movement and therefore) a loss of mental freedom. A quick and easy way to enter the cycle of suffering.
As unnatural as it may seem to be, to do well in the pursuit of happiness we must develop alternative patterns of thinking. These patterns are based on the conscious rejection of anger and hatred (anger and hatred, arguably, may be beneficial when fighting for survival but in the pursuit of happiness they are all cost and no benefit). The thoughts and actions that support the pursuit of happiness are based on compassion and love.