The noted technologist and entrepreneur Paul Buchheit recently wrote an philosophical blog post on what he calls “hacking”. He writes:
“Every system has two sets of rules: The rules as they are intended or commonly perceived, and the actual rules (“reality”). In most complex systems, the gap between these two sets of rules is huge.”
Hacking, then, is discovering the actual rules, and using this knowledge to violate the perceived rules. This often seems like a shortcut or loophole. What if we think of our spiritual journey as an attempt to “hack” life, and figure out the truth? Buchheit seems to encourage this notion of life-hacking (though his post relates to technology, and steers clear of any spiritual context) when he says that to discover great hacks, “we must always be searching for the true nature of our reality, while acknowledging that we do not currently possess the truth …”
So, let’s return to the question I posed: Can we think of our spiritual journey as a way of hacking life? If so, what are the consequences of this? By now it’s probably clear that I’m in favor of this interpretation. Life is a complex system, with a set of perceived rules that governs it — these can be laws made by governments, theories in the natural sciences, and observations made by social scientists. Having religious faith also means believing there exists a set of actual rules, that may (or may not) differ from these perceived rules. Life, then, is a quest for this true nature of reality, and to attempt to hack life is to engage in a search for this truth. A hacker who gains a glimpse of understanding about the true nature of things can then identify the differences between the truth, and what is perceived. In other words, it is only the hacker who can identify māyā as māyā.
The very idea of hacking involves questioning the status quo, and searching for the true nature of things. But not all hacking is good hacking. Hacking social relations & financial regulations, a la Madoff, to steal billions of dollars is bad (as Buchheit notes). In life too, there are bad spiritual hackers, who use their knowledge to mislead. But there are good life hackers too. Generations of rishis have sought the truth, and also sought to pass this truth on to others. This quest for truth may be endless; we may never learn the true nature of reality. But that does not make hacking any less worthwhile of a pursuit. Even glimpses of understanding can have a huge impact.
Considering spiritual progress as akin to hacking raises some tough questions. People differ in their ability to hack practically every natural & manmade system. Some are just better at it, or have more of a “hacker mindset”. Are we willing to acknowledge the same in spirituality? Among computer hackers at least, one who discovers some new, productive way to break the “rules”, but keeps this knowledge to himself, is frowned upon. There is an implicit obligation to document & share so that the society as a whole may progress. Should yogis necessarily be burdened with such obligations? Is it right to simply seek complete knowledge for oneself, or must one help others in this quest?
What do you think of this extended analogy? Does it shed any light on the spiritual journey?
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Part of religion and spirituality (at least as has been taught to me) involves learning humility and attaining the realization that we are not intelligent enough to understand the grand scheme or “truth”. This is why we resort to gurus, who themselves meditate and ask to be given knowledge freely. We even have stories about those who gain such knowledge and are strictly forbidden to share it. At this point, can you really consider truth as knowledge that we gain through our own endeavors in life? Is it even ours to share? My thought is that this interpretation perhaps gives too much credit to human ability and the meaning of our lives in the grand scheme of things.
@ Aneesh-bhai:
Jokes apart, I like your metaphor a lot, and find it quite interesting that the Vedic seers were often described as possessing some sort of special sight or insight into the workings of reality (a divya-dṛṣṭi, so to speak), just as a hacker would.
Why do I get the feeling you wrote “Matrix” and then ran a find-and-replace with “māyā”?
@ Hamsa: Your point about humility is valid. At the same time, I suspect the reason most of us are told to follow gurus and the like is because most of us don’t possess that sort of insight into the working of the world—in exactly the same way that most of us don’t possess the computing insight that a hacker possesses.
Most “cosmo-hackers” (can I say that? please?) often faced deep issues within their contexts, whether they were the Buddha or Zoroaster or Vedānta Deśika. And there are stories of secret knowledge being revealed for the betterment of all: consider the story that Rāmānuja expressly disobeyed his guru and announced the mantra “Oṃ Namo Nārāyaṇāya” from one of the temple towers of Śrīraṅgam because he wanted the power of this mantra to be available to all.
Anyway, there is an old but really good science fiction novel that is along similar lines. (Yeah I know, you’re allowed to judge me!) It’s called Lord of Light and is by Roger Zelazny. I’m not going to say more about it, except that it would look favorably upon the idea of the Buddha as a “hacker”.
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