Buddhist Killology or Cideology

Killology is said to be “the study of the psychological and physiological effects of killing and combat on the human psyche” and the term is said to have been coined by the retired Lt. Col. Dave Grossman (US Army). Perhaps I may be the first person to try to employ the word “killology” in a Buddhist context. I would, however, propose to define “Buddhist Killology” (or perhaps better “Buddhist Cideology,” from French -cide, from Latin cida “cutter, killer”) as a “scholarly study of the Buddhist attitude towards the act of killing.” For the sake of discussing the Buddhist attitude toward killing, one might primarily consider those x-cide words. To be noted is that an x-cide word usually mean one of these four things: (a) “killing x,” where x is an animate or sentient being (e.g. matricide), (b) “killing through or by means of x,” where x is often a tangible entity (e.g. autocide),(c) “a kind of substance that is used to kill x,” where x is often a nuisance-causing and hence unwanted small creature such as bug or vermin (e.g. German Ungetier and Ungeziefer) (e.g. pesticide), or (d) the act of destroying x (literarily or figuratively), where x is usually an inanimate and intangible entity (e.g. chronocide “the killing or wasting of time,” famacide “the killing of another’s reputation, a slander,” liberticide “the destruction of liberties, linguicide “intentionally causing the death of a language,” and libricide “the destruction of books and libraries mainly with a religious or political ideology”). Our main concern in this context would be x-cide in the first sense.

Some random points may be made in this regard. First of all, killing may be defined by Buddhist sources as a physical act of the destruction or cutting (short) of or putting an abrupt end to life or life-faculty (jīvendriya: srog gi dbang po) of a sentient being. Naturally therefore the issue of what is sentient is crucial in Buddhism. Lambert Schmithausen’s study of the issue of sentiency of plants in Buddhism should be presupposed here. According to him and if I remember correctly, Buddhists in the beginning were reticent about the sentiency of plants and that plants were considered borderline cases by them but in course of time, they decided in favor of the in-sentiency of plants. In other words, according to Buddhism, plants may be considered living things but not living or sentient beings. Killing here thus refers to only killing of sentient beings. 

Second, killing, being a physical or bodily act or deed in Buddhism, can never be considered categorically or apodictically unwholesome, wholesome, or neutral, although most acts or deeds of killing would be committed through motives tinged by intellectual-emotional defilements (kleśa: nyon mongs pa) such as desire, hatred, greed, jealousy, and so forth, and thus considered unwholesome ethically, morally, spiritually (or ascetically), and karmically (or legally). The most decisive factor is thus the wholesomeness, unwholesomeness, or neutrality of the preceding, accompanying, or concluding volitional impulse or motivation of the main agent of the act of killing. I specify here “main agent” to exclude a “commissioned killer” (who may be mostly considered an instrument of killing). A “commissioned killer” may or may not be an accomplice in the volitionary act of killing. The equivocality or equivocacy of the act of killing in terms of ethical, moral, spiritual (or ascetic), and karmic positivity, negativity, or neutrality, makes the act of killing one of the greatest challenges in Buddhist philosophy. I may have killed a person and claim that I did it out of pure compassion and benevolence. I may have killed a person out of pure hatred and maliciousness. I may have killed someone in the course of a sleep-walking. Can one, who can, and how can one determine the positivity, negativity, or neutrality of the motive behind an act of killing and thus judge accordingly as wholesome, unwholesome, and neutral? 

Third, one may classify types of killing in several ways. Killing may be classified based on (a) the kind of species of sentient being killed (e.g. homicide “killing of a human being”), (b) the killer’s family and other relationship with the victim (i.e. matricide and patricide), (c) spiritual or social status (e.g. regicide “the killing of a monarch”), (d) ways of killing (i.e. capital punishment “the judicial killing of a human being for odious crimes” and euthanasia (also mercy killing) “the killing of any being for compassionate reasons i.e. significant injury or disease,” and so on. But perhaps all types of killing maybe subsumed under suicide (i.e. intentional killing oneself) and paracide (i.e. intentional killing of other sentient beings). For suicide, see q.v. Buddhist Suicidology.

Fourth, the gravity of the act of killing and thus also the karmic (or legal) accountability for it would be determined by a number of factors. Some of such factors presupposed in Buddhism seem to be (a) the size of physical size of a sentient being (e.g. it is not the same killing an ant and an elephant),  (b) number of sentient beings (e.g. whether one kills one cow or a thousand cows), (c) the frequency (e.g. whether one kills a sentient being once or regularly), (d) the intensity or extensity of preceding, accompanying, and concluding volitional impulse, (e) the degree or extent to which the victim happens to be a guṇakṣetra (yon tan gyi zhing) or puṇyakṣetra  (bsod nams kyi zhing), that is, even among human beings it would depend whether the victim is a parent, patient, saint, and the like.

In Buddhism, I doubt that a human being can kill a celestial being (i.e. god) and hence deicide would be, according to Buddhism, an impossibility. Similarly, Buddhocide (i.e. “the killing of the Buddha or a buddha”) would be an impossibility. Nobody can ever kill the Buddha or a buddha! To be noted is that not everyone who is said to possess the Buddha (or Buddhomorphic) Element (buddhadhātu: sangs rgyas kyi khams) can be considered a buddha. Perhaps hagiocide (i.e. killing of a saint), however, is possible insofar as one may be able to kill an arhant or a bodhisattva would get killed. The killing of Tibetan king ’U-dum-btsan may be regarded by Tibetan Buddhists as tyrannicide (i.e. “the killing of a tyrant”), which would be theoretically endorsable. Self-immolation (i.e. suicide by setting oneself on fire, a form of extreme protest), like any other form of suicide or paracide, is subject to equivocality. From a Buddhist point, there would be nothing honorable about the so-called “honor killing” (i.e. the act of killing a family member who has or was perceived to have brought disgrace to the family) would be categorically and apodictically considered reproachable and dishonorable. What about judicial killing? Judicial system is a worldly system and Buddhism (initially and mainly as a discipline of attaining release from the bondage of saṃsāra) would not normally lay down legal systems for the society unless a king or a country happens to follow Buddhist teachings. Some Buddhists may even see a country’s law a kind of jungle’s law and would only hope that people in the jungle would not unjustly send one to the gallows. To change a political or legal system of a country, lay and ordained Buddhist community would have to meddle into and muddle in the dirty waters of politics. One would be free to do so if one can and will but would that be the raison d’être of Buddhist teachings in the first place? What about Euthanasia? Difficult! How can one ensure and be sure that “mercy killing” is indeed merciful and beneficial? Buddhism is bound to view the very intent of genocide (i.e. the systematic extermination of an entire national, racial, religious, or ethnic group) and particularly omnicide (i.e. the act of killing all humans, to create intentional extinction of the human species) heinous. How might Buddhism view human sacrifice (i.e. the killing of a human for religious reasons)? Perhaps it would be viewed as a practice based on completely erroneous views. What about dominicide (i.e. the act of killing one’s (Buddhist) master? It would be usually viewed very negatively. What about episcopicide (i.e. the act of killing a bishop) or vaticide (i.e. the act of killing a prophet)? It may depend on what kind of person that particular bishop or prophet is. If he or she happens to be a person who spreads religion of hate and destruction, a bodhisattva or tāntrika might consider “liberating” him or her. If he or she happens to contribute to compassion, insight, happiness, and peace in the world, episcopicide and vaticide would be a heinous crime.

Disanalogy in Buddhist Philosophy

Disanalogy (i.e. dpe med pa) does not seem to be recorded by Merriam-Webster but by Collins. It is said to mean “a lack of analogy.” If we somehow assume that “analogy” is semantically coextensive with Tibetan dpe (dṛṣṭānta), which can also mean an “instance” or a “case,” or “exemplification” then one might speak of “disanalogy” in Buddhist philosophy. The Mādhyamikas have argued that one of the reasons why “reality” or “essentiality” or “substantiality” or “hypostatic existence” of an entity or phenomenon can never be proven because there is not a single dpe (“analogy,” “case,” or “instance”) of an entity or phenomenon or any given that is “real,” “substantial,” “essential” or “hypostatically existent.” A single dpe of an hypostatically existent entity would undermine or topple the entire Madhyamaka theory of emptiness. The Mādhyamikas would claim that all reasons that are put forward to refute the Madhyamaka philosophy of emptiness are actually ineffectual in achieving their objectives but would consolidate the Madhyamaka position. All reasons employed by the critics of Madhyamaka are like additional fuel that causes the Madhyamaka fire to burn even more brightly. Nāgārjuna, Śāntideva, and the like should be cited. In this connection, consider Mi-pham’s: chos gcig bden par grub na de nyid kyis || chos kun snang ba gtan nas ’gog ’gyur phyir || gcig kyang bden pa med pa’i nges shes kyis || mtha’ bral dbu ma’i lam bzang ….

A few  more points come to my mind. First, we also have to bear in mind that there is mthun dpe as well as mi mthun pa’i dpe (i.e. a kind of opposite case, counter-example, or counter-analogy). Second, a formally correct and complete syllogism is said to require a mthun dpe, that is, regardless of whether or not the proponent needs to demonstrate it to the qualified opponent. Third, I have encountered several intelligent and well-educated lay Buddhists in Europe who have problems with classical dpe used in Buddhist sources. One of the most common remarks is that a dpe, because of its dissimilarity with the don, often does not apply. To this, I have been trying to point out a few things. (a) In an Indian or Buddhist philosophical context, a dpe must primarily work for the qualified dialogue or debate partner. If a dpe is unknown (or makes no sense) to the opponent or partner, the proponent should not use it. (b) Usually The kind of dpe employed need not exist as a (concrete) particular entity. A dpe is usually an abstract concept of an entity or a non-entity. Thus, one can use “pot” (bum pa) as a dpe or “a rabbit’s horn.” (c) Importantly, the exemplifying dpe should never be totally similar to the to-be-exemplified don (meaning). If it does, it would not function as a dpe. A dpe is usually employed because of its at least one shared quality or similarity with the don. Therefore, it would be absolutely correct to the employ “rabbit’s horn” as a dpe in the following syllogism: A “pot,” if analyzed or ultimately, would turn out to be non-arisen just like a “rabbit’s horn.” Now in this case, the argument that “rabbit’s horn” cannot be employed as a dpe because of its dissimilarity with the “pot” would not be valid and the objection simply suggests that the opponent does not actually know the rules of the dialogue/debate. If both parties see the quality or attribute of being non-arisen in both “pot” and “rabbit’s horn,” that would suffice. (d) Perhaps the difficulty lies in the use of the word “analogy” itself. The idea of analogy in the Western intellectual culture is perhaps more rigid than the idea of dpe (dṛṣṭānta) in Indian Buddhist intellectual culture. One must, however, note that even in the Buddhist contexts, dpe could be used loosely and non-technically or narrowly and technically. Perhaps one may state dpe (dṛṣṭānta) in Buddhist context may be used on a micro or individual level (i.e. one dpe for a single don) on a macro or over-all level (i.e. a series of dpes for a series of dons). The dpe (dṛṣṭānta) thus may include analogy, allegory, and any kind of comparison and exemplification.

Buddhist Fetishism or Fetishism in Buddhism

I just happened to read Andrew Lang’s “Fetishism and Spiritualism” (The Making of Religion. London, New York and Bombay: Longmans, Green, and Co, 1900, pp. 147–159) and the Wikipedia entry on “fetishism.” To be begin with, the word “fetish” is said to be derived from the French fétiche; which comes from the Portuguese feitiço; and this in turn from Latin facticius meaning “artificial” and facere “to make”) and is thus “an object believed to have supernatural powers, or in particular, a man-made object that has power over others. Essentially, fetishism is the emic attribution of inherent value or powers to an object.” The idea of fetishism itself seems to have a rather long history. Sigmund Freud, in his essay on “Fetishism,” is said to have stated that the meaning and purpose of the fetish turns out, through analysis, to always be the same, namely, “the fetish is a substitute for the penis,” a particular and special kind of penis. The belief in the supernatural power of phallus (cf. “phallicism”) is popular not just among non-Buddhists in India but also among the Buddhists in Bhutan). Karl Marx’s idea of “commodity fetishism” (i.e. in which objects are imagined to dictate the social activities that produce them) and Alfred Binet’s “sexual fetishism” (i.e. the sexual attachment to an object in place of a person) are very interesting as well. Besides such forms of “secular fetishism,” fetishism is said to be present in all religions, which maybe called “sacral fetishism.” If this is the case, there must be fetishism in Buddhism as well. The topic that I dare thematize here is thus “Buddhist Fetishism” or “Fetishism in Buddhism.”

         A working definition of “Buddhist Fetishism” would be “a Buddhist belief in the supernatural or paranormal power in certain physical or inanimate objects.” That Buddhists believed, to varying degrees, in the supernatural or paranormal power of inanimate objects, can hardly be denied. Some random Buddhist ideas maybe mentioned here as some venues for exploration. First, the belief in the power of relics would be an ideal case of fetishism in Buddhism. To be noted is that a relic may even be conceived of as a sentient entity. The belief in the power of other organic or inorganic objects or substances such urine or implements or clothes of realized masters may be seen as an extension of the belief in the power of relics. Second, the Indian or Buddhist belief in the power of wish-fulfilling jewel, too, may be seen a kind of fetishism. Third, while the idea of three receptacles (rten gsum)—i.e. statues, scriptures, and stūpas—may not by itself suggest the idea fetishism, the idea of a statue or thanka that speaks or smiles, for example, may be indicative of some elements of fetishism. Fourth, objects that are regarded by some Tibetan Buddhists as btags grol, mthong grol, myong grol, reg grol, and the like, may also suggest elements of fetishism in Tibetan Buddhism. 

         Importantly, it would be true to state that in Buddhism the power of mind or meditation (and hence perhaps “psychical fetishism”) has precedence over the power of speech or mantras or truth (i.e. “verbal fetishism”) or of matter (i.e. “physical/material fetishism”).

Buddhist Thaumaturgy or Thaumaturgy in Buddhism

I am sure some scholars would disapprove my use of the term “Buddhist Thaumaturgy,” perhaps with the argument that there is no such thing as “miracle-working,” “miracle,” “marvel,” and “magic” in Buddhism.  While it is true that there is no such thing as a Creator God who acts as a source of supernatural entities, events, or activities, and while we can understand why some of us may not like to have Thaumaturgy in Buddhism because it does not suit the image of Buddhism that we may have created ourselves, namely, Buddhism as a form of pure rationalism, it is not true that there are no elements of “miracles” and “miracle-working” in Buddhism. As far as I see, Buddhism seems to take for granted the existence of “miracle,” “marvel,” “magic,” “mystery,” “sorcery,” and the like, as some kind of “supernatural” phenomenon or reality. These realities are “supernatural” only in relative perspectives. That is, an entity, reality, or activity, is regarded as a “miracle,” “marvel,” or “magic,”  or “mystery” by normal mortals only insofar as such an entity, reality, activity, or, the underlying mechanism, appears to lie beyond their domain of cognition, conception, and explanation. From the perspectives of those who see through the mechanism of pratītyasamutpāda underlying any entity, reality, activity, there is nothing marvellous, magical, or mysterious about anything. In other words, as scientists might say, there is a logical or rational explanation to everything including magics and miracles.

While the existence of magic or marvel is not denied in Buddhism, its value, status, or role is relegated. Only a limited instrumental value is attributed to the magical means or power. It may be supernatural but fundamentally worldly (laukika: ’jig rten pa) in its nature, function, and scope, even when employed by a buddha or an arhant for beneficial purposes. A buddha, for example, can never put someone in a nirvāṇic state through his miraculous powers. If he could, he would have done that already. It is merely a pre-product or byproduct of one’s spiritual accomplishment and realization. Therefore, the higher one’s spiritual accomplishment is the greater would be one’s magical power. Nobody, from a Buddhist perspective, can outdo the magical feats of the Buddha or a buddha. As benevolent and beneficent as he is, however, he would never misuse his magical powers. If he sees that his magical feats would benefit sentient beings, he would demonstrate them. A Buddhist reinterpretation (or relativization) of magical and miraculous prowess and power would be thus: The greatest magical feat would be the elimination, transformation, or cognitive penetration of one’s intellectual-emotional defilements (kleśa: nyon mongs pa) as a result of which one obtains complete freedom from the bondage of saṃsāra. One who can do this would be a real magician,  or the greatest magician ever. 

Magical power is thus not denied in Buddhism but its value is relegated. But admittedly, it is also true for Buddhism that absolute power can corrupt one absolutely, the primum mobile of any form of corruption, according to Buddhism, being (negative) egoism characterized by lack of benevolence and beneficence. Magical power is seen as a powerful tool. One can wield one’s tool constructively or destructively; for benevolent or malevolent purposes; with beneficent or maleficent motives. Magic employed for a malevolent and destructive purpose with a maleficent motive may be considered “black magic.” Magic employed for a benevolent and constructive purpose with a beneficent motive may be considered “white magic.” Who can judge all these? It is often difficult to judge. In the end, a thaumaturgist alone should be his or her own witness and judge. A thaumaturgist alone is responsible for his or her thaumaturgy.

In Buddhist history and literature, we find ample accounts of the Buddha and his disciples demonstrating magical prowess and feats. The supernormal powers of the Buddha and his disciples are not considered abnormal in Buddhism. Each Buddhist society may have its own accounts of masters, saints, and yogins demonstrating magical feats. Tibetan Buddhist society is no exception. Particularly, the legendary accounts of Padmasambhava and his disciples are full of them. But this is not limited to rNying-ma school alone. Mi-la-ras-pa is known for the practice of black magic—which he is said to have learnt from a rNying-ma tāntrika (sngags pa)—the aftermath of which caused a turning point in his spiritual career. The legends of Rwa-lo-tsā-ba, for example, also contain full of accounts of he employing his magical powers to “liberate” (bsgral) thirteen bodhisattvas who have attained one of ten bodhisattva stages and thirteen translators of his standing (Shin rgyas, vol. 10, p. 74). He is said to have killed Mar-pa’s son Dharma-mdo-sde but he could not kill Mi-la-ras-pa. It is said that he could not kill Lang-lab, too, who was a shepherd and a Vajrakīla adept.

Where, according to Buddhism, should the magical power come from? There is a collective expression in Tibetan Buddhism: “three kinds of inconceivable [power]” (bsam gyis mi khyab pa gsum), namely, “inconceivable power of substance (i.e. of bodily or material entities)” (rzdas kyi nus pa bsam gyis mi khyab pa), “inconceivable power of mantras (i.e. of speech)” (sngags kyi nus pa bsam gyis mi khyab pa), and “inconceivable power of meditative concentration (i.e. of mind)” (ting nge ’dzin gyi nus pa bsam gyis mi khyab pa). If we are not convinced of the power of substance, we might just think of the nuclear bomb, venom, or potassium cyanid. If we are not convinced of the power of speech, we might try verbally insulting someone and see what happens. If we are not convinced of the power of concentration, we might try doing things after getting totally drunk. A Buddhist thaumaturgist might use one or a combination of these three means or powers, which would then be considered “magical” or “marvellous” by ordinary mortals like myself.

  

Buddhist Suitheism?

“Suitheism” is said to be “the belief in self as a deity.” Can one treat the Buddhist Tantric idea of seeing/visualizing/meditating oneself as divinity a kind of “Buddhist Suitheism”? Just a random food for thought!

Buddhist Agnoiology? Agnotology in Buddhism?

The word “agnoiology” is said to mean “the science or study of ignorance, which determines its quality and conditions” or “the doctrine concerning those things of which we are necessarily ignorant,” and it is said to describe a branch of philosophy studied by James Frederick Ferrier in the nineteenth century. I employ expressions such as “said to be mean/be” to suggest that I am not an authority on the topic and hence I do hold accountable for its correctness, reliability, and the difficulties such statements might entail. Similarly, “agnotology” (formerly “agnatology”), a neologism coined by Robert N. Proctor, Stanford University professor, specializing in the history of science and technology, is said to be “the study of culturally induced ignorance or doubt, particularly the publication of inaccurate or misleading scientific data.” More generally, the term is also said to highlight “the increasingly common condition where more knowledge of a subject leaves one more uncertain than before.”

My interest here is mainly whether we can speak of a “Buddhist agnoiology,” and to a lesser degree, whether we can speak of “agnotology in Buddhism.” I think we sure can. One may define “Buddhist agnoiology” as the “the science or study of ignorance from a Buddhist perspective.” Just as we may talk of “Buddhist epistemology” or “Buddhist gnoseology,” we can well talk of “Buddhist agnoiology.” I like it. Some venues for exploration would be the ideas of “nescience” (avidyā: ma rig pa), “disorientedness” (moha: gti mig), “lack of knowledge/cognition” (ajñāna: ma shes pa). How have these terms been defined or understood or used? What types of ignorance or nescience can we trace in Buddhist sources? What are lhan cig skyes pa’i ma rig pa (i.e. “innate non-cognition”?) and kun tu brtags (or btags?) pa’i ma rig pa (i.e. “acquired non-cognition”?)? This distinction, though not quite clear to me, seems important. It seems to suggest that there are types of ignorance we are born with and other types we acquire through indoctrination. What about ma rtogs pa, log par rtog pa, and phyogs tsam rtogs pa? What about the idea of duḥprajñā (shes rab ’chal ba)? What about ’dres pa’i ma rig pa and ma ’dres pa’i ma rig pa? Are all kinds or degrees of ignorance or non-cognition obstructive or impedimentary to the attainment of vimokṣa or vimukti? The Mahāyānic answer seems to be in the negative. This is suggested by the idea of jñeyāvaraṇa (shes bya’i sgrib pa), a kind of obscuration that hinders one to know all objects of knowledge. One can possess such a subtle kind of ignorance or nescience and yet one could attain the state of an Arhatship. To become a buddha, however, one must eradicate all traces of nescience, for a buddha is said to possess omniscience. (Note, however, that there seems to be several concepts of omniscience in Buddhism.) Such a subtle nescience can be due to the spatial remoteness of the object of knowledge, or, due to the temporal remoteness of the object of knowledge, or, due to the infinity-cum-transcendentality of the object of knowledge (e.g. qualities of a buddha), or, due to the subtlety of the object of knowledge (e.g. causes and conditions necessary for giving rise to a single multi-colored patch of a peacock’s feather). Tibetan Buddhist sources would describe the idea of the “four causes of non-cognition“ (mi shes pa’i rgyu bzhi) that even a traditional arhant is said to be subject to. Of course, to understand “Buddhist agnoiology,” we will have to understand the reverse side of the coin, namely, “Buddhist Epistemology” and “Buddhist gnoseology.” Buddhist logic and epistemology would reveal a great deal about the Buddhist concepts of non-perception, non-cognition, misperception, misconception, perceptual and conceptual errors, and syllogistic fallacies of various kinds.

And what about “agnotology in Buddhism”? Can we talk of a kind of culturally induced ignorance in Buddhism? Perhaps we can but only to a certain extent and in certain contexts. Some Buddhist masters might discourage acquiring knowledge that is not of direct relevance to the attainment of Arhathood or Buddhahood. That is to say, they might indirectly encourage certain form/degree of ignorance. Some Tibetan Buddhist masters are said to discourage or even prohibit their disciples, especially young monks and nuns, to study, with the argument that they would not remain in the monastery if they were to study. In other words, such masters prefer that their disciples remain ignorant! Should this turn out to be true, it would be a case in which an effort is made by some sections of the society to induce ignorance so that the status quo can be maintained. Although I can neither sympathize with these masters nor can I conscientiously endorse such an attitude, I must, however, mention that Buddhism does recognize the existence of knowledge or cognition that is considered useless, for example, the knowledge about the number of worms in the world. Also investigations and treatises such as those dealing with the “analysis of crows‘ teeth” (bya rog so brtag) are considered to be totally futile.

What about the idea that “ignorance is bliss”? Usually in Buddhism: “Ignorance is suffering/painful” (mi shes pa ni sdug bsngal lo). On the other hand, we do find some sources which suggest that “ignorance can be bliss.” If I am not mistaken, Āryadeva has suggested that if a common person were to know or see the sufferings of the entire world, he or she would die then and there. That is to suggest that if we do not know or see the suffering of the world, we tend to be naive and happy. Why? My explanation is that we cannot often psychologically cope with the reality or truth! This would bring us to the Buddhist idea of kṣānti. It is often rendered as “patience” or “tolerance,” but if we take the entire semantic range or spectrum of the term, “patience” or “tolerance” does not seem to work. Particularly consider the expression: mi skye ba’i chos la bzod pa. It seems to make no sense to understand “tolerance with regard to the phenomena which is characterized by non-arising.” Thus I am tempted to understand kṣānti in Buddhism as the intellectual and psychological capacity or readiness of the mind to confront reality or truth (no matter how painful, dreadful, unpleasant, subtle, or profound). To cope with reality, truth, or knowledge or cognition, one would require the necessary courage to confront it. Buddhist sources speak of “fear for emptiness,” that is, comparable to horror vacui or kenophobia. In my view, it is because of the phobia for reality, truth, knowledge, or cognition, that people induce or resort to ignorance, rejection, and denialism. 

What about the idea of docta ignorantia in Buddhism? I would suppose the idea of “learned ignorance” would be cherished by the wise/learned ones in Buddhism as a very useful convention. Usually people in the society transact on a conventional level and those conventions adopted by the wise and the learned are said to be preferable. For example, the distinction between “good and bad,” or, “wholesome and unwholesome” is occasionally said to be whether or not something is found to be “irreproachable or reproachable by the wise/learned.” If a fool knows or does not know something, it may not mean much or anything! If a learned/wise person does not know something, it would mean something! So much for now on Buddhist agnoiology and agnotology in Buddhism.