The 84,000 Dharma Doors of Byung Chul Han

I would like to begin an article and podcast series on the philosophy of Byung Chul Han, reading his work alongside my understanding of Buddhist practice and philosophy. Han is not a publicly avowed Buddhist, and I am not implying that Han wrote his books because of or as an apology for Buddhism. I’m saying that I hear a lot of resonances between Han’s philosophy and modern Buddhism as I’ve known it. I am undertaking this series for myself, for my own intellectual and spiritual growth, but also as something that I think could inform others interested in Buddhist philosophy. As well, Han’s broad survey of contemporary philosophy and social theory could open up a ‘feast of knowledge’ for Buddhist practitioners.

I will proceed in this series book by book, chapter by chapter, as I read them. My comments and responses will be as a reader and not as a philosopher. I don’t have a degree in philosophy or any advanced studies in philosophy. I have an MA in Sociology and doctoral studies in Sociology, particularly systems theory and cybernetics. Nonetheless, I don’t think a master’s degree in philosophy is necessary to understand Han’s books and his world view. 

I’d like to qualify my interest in Han with the caveat that I do not agree with everything he says. In fact I often disagree with him, but even disagreeing with Han yields important insights.

My inspiration for this monumental task is that I find Han’s philosophy so resonant with my understanding of Buddhism. I want to advance my practice of Buddhism by reading and applying Han’s ideas. To be frank, I see Byung Chul Han’s philosophy as “Buddhist philosophy for the cybernetic society of the 21st century.”

This podcast will be uploaded to the usual places and a written transcript will be published in Engage!.

I begin with Psychopolitics: Neoliberalism and New Technologies of Power

Chapter 1: the Crisis of Freedom

The first chapter is one of the most dense and complex in the book. In it Han lays out his neo-Marxist argument for how and why we have entered a peculiar period he defines as Neoliberal Capitalism. I will be using this and subsequent chapters to critique what I have previously called Neoliberal Buddhism, and to show how we can instead use Buddhist practice to resist and transform both forms of Neoliberalism. 

Han begins with “The Crisis of Freedom.”

“We are living in a particular phase of history: freedom itself is bringing forth compulsion and constraint. The freedom of Can generates even more coercion than the disciplinarian Should, which issues commandments and prohibitions. In contrast, Can has none. [no prohibitions or commandments]. (pp. 1-2).

Han’s thesis is that the ‘positive freedom’ to do as we wish becomes the ‘negative compulsion’ that we ought to do everything we can, or face the social consequences of being a failure, a loser, a waste of a life. This is the “work ethic” of neoliberal capitalism.

Han lists the psychological maladies that are generated by the freedom imperative, Can. Han’s work focuses exclusively on depression and burnout, to which I would add Anxiety. I find it strange that Han never mentions Anxiety in any of his books that I’ve read on this topic. But it’s clear to me that anxiety is the direct result of the “yes, we can, so we should” ethic of neoliberal capitalism. We are constantly under pressure to make something exceptional of our lives: a career, notoriety, wealth, popularity, and somewhere in all that, a stable home, family and intimate relationships. Furthermore we must develop all our talents, and become not just adequate, but outstanding in all of them. All this pressure to “become somebody” generates enormous anxiety. 

And what I see in many Buddhist meditation groups is people suffering from overwhelming anxiety. This shows up in symptoms such as addiction, OCD, social anxiety, panic attacks and phobias, ‘imposter syndrome’ and fear in general. In addition, people suffer from attention deficits caused by the constant distraction and intrusion of technology into our experience. Add to this the devastating impacts of trauma and PTSD on the individual. These are the symptoms most complained of by people seeking to learn Buddhist meditation. Yet Han never discusses any of these. But this array of anxiety disorders are a direct result of the “you can, therefore you should” ethic of neoliberal capitalism. Let’s call it “achievement anxiety.”

Furthermore, as I have often argued in my articles on Neoliberal Buddhism, the way that we transmit Buddhism in the West does not allay this achievement anxiety, but often makes it worse. Now in addition to being a roaring success in everything from career to intimate relationships, now you must also become an accomplished Buddhist meditator, even a fully enlightened ‘buddha’. I’ve seen so many people go through Buddhist meditation programs, spending years and thousands of dollars climbing the hierarchal ladder of spiritual achievement, trying to become the most accomplished Buddhist practitioner. 

Han begins: “Today, we do not deem ourselves subjugated subjects, but rather projects, always refashioning and reinventing ourselves.” (p, 1)

This is a take on Foucault’s theory of the subject, as one who is subjected to the power of a governing system, whether an economic, political or academic system. Within those systems, the subject is forced to speak, to declare who he is. Foucault’s subject is subjected to “disciplinary society” that imposes rules of behavior and standards of performance. Instead, Han argues, under the “yes we can” ethic of neoliberal capitalism, we subject ourselves, voluntarily, to its dictates, by making a project of ourselves.

And the way we practice Buddhism in the West does precisely that—we use Buddhist training to make a project of ourselves. Every fear, desire, irritation or discomfort must be examined, treated with meditation techniques and eliminated. We must attain a complete understanding of arcane Buddhists texts and perfect our insights. We must achieve states of perfect bliss, or else we have failed at becoming enlightened. We have failed as Buddhists. Instead of realizing “non-self”, the self becomes a never-ending project.

Han continues: “The neoliberal regime transforms allo-exploitation [by others] into auto-exploitation [by self]; this process affects all ‘classes’… People who fail in the neoliberal achievement-society see themselves as responsible for their lot and feel shame instead of questioning society or the system.” (p. 3).

The practice of Buddhism in the West is riddled with this kind of auto-aggression, masked as “positive emotion.” One must not dwell on the past or worry about the future. Stop overthinking; stop thinking, period. One must not indulge negative feelings—the enlightened state of mind is unperturbed bliss. Achieving that state of mind requires a fair amount of aggression towards oneself, a voluntary self-discipline. To be fair to Buddhist teachers, they often coach meditators not to engage in self-aggression by forcing oneself to achieve particular mental states. But the compulsion to prove that one is truly enlightened is magnified under conditions of neoliberalism.

Indeed, politically, Han argues, “given the auto-exploiting achievement-subject’s isolation, no political We is even possible that could rise up and undertake collective action…no resistance to the system can emerge in the first place.” (p. 3) (Han’s emphasis).

This is precisely what I have argued is the preemptive condition that precludes Buddhists from becoming a political force that can effect change in society. Without a shared culture of resistance to neoliberal capitalism, there is no “we” than can venture to make such a change. My hope is that by going through Han’s argument against neoliberal capitalism, I can bring about a change in Buddhist consciousness that will redirect it away from neoliberalism toward a change in society itself.

Han continues: “Now, under the neoliberal regime of auto-exploitation, people are turning their aggression against themselves.” (Han’s emphasis)…This auto-aggressivity means that the exploited are not inclined to revolution so much as depression.” (p. 2-3)

And again, I would add, massive Anxiety.  We are constantly under pressure to perform, and to improve our performance, which provokes constant anxiety, followed by exhaustion.

But I don’t think the pathology of this condition is limited to auto-exploitation and auto-aggression. In western culture, this has also conjured an extreme form of social aggression as neofascism, It is a reactionary movement against the conditions of Neoliberalism; a restoration of the disciplinary regime with an identitarian, e.g. white nationalist twist. Neofascism is a reaction to the “crisis of freedom” and the anxiety it provokes projected onto “others” and society as paranoia. American neofascists make a neoliberal claim to “absolute freedom” while imposing draconian laws on subjugated “others.” They exhibit authoritarianism, racism, xenophobia, misogyny, homophobia and violence towards everyone else who is threatening because they are “not like me.” Mass murder in the form of mass-shooting events and police brutality are a daily occurrence in the US. This is another facet of neoliberal capitalism that Han seems oblivious to in this particular book.

This is the kind of social aggression that Buddhism purports to alleviate or prevent, but it cannot do so if it does not address the still more fundamental conditions of neoliberalism, the “crisis of freedom”and the imperative to “be all you can be”.

Furthermore, Han seems to ignore, at least in this book, the other pervasive condition of neoliberal capitalism, which is extreme precarity. People are working two and three jobs just to make enough money to survive. Years of higher education result in no career path or even a decent job. People are subject to extreme material insecurity and the constant anxiety it provokes, with no social safety net. What social security programs still exist are constantly under attack by neoliberal regimes as antithetical to some notion of absolute “freedom.” The attack on social safety nets is a vicarious attack on the generalized “other” who is taking away something from “me.” This is neoliberal capitalism at its worst, yet Han hardly mentions it. Moreover, training in Buddhist meditation does nothing to address the material precarity that many of its practitioners find themselves trapped in, whom I have called “the Buddhist precariat.” 

So now we have a conditions under neoliberal capitalism in which we feel an intense, internalized pressure to “be all you can be” but without the means to accomplish it, and worse still, barely the means to keep a roof over our heads.

This is what that I have derived from the first three pages of Han’s book, Psychopolitics. That’s what readers mean when they say that Han’s books are short but dense. Unpacking his terse writing leads to still more unfolding of the conditions of our lives. What Han does so well is to precisely define what neoliberal capitalism is and how it operates. And he makes a beginning of linking that zeitgeist to a political agenda that could be further developed. Buddhist activism in this regard consists in unmasking the operation of neoliberal capitalism and providing an alternative, a social revolution that has political implications.