Zen-Brain Reflections is James Austin’s follow-up to “Zen and the Brain.”

Austin’s work and study has led him to a deep understanding of what it means to translate ancient philosophical texts. Below I quote at length from his discussion of translating the Sandokai by Sekito (Shih T’ou) (p. 330; my emphasis, slightly edited for clarity):

Can any translation today have the same meaning as did the original, a work composed of only 220 Chinese characters? Suppose you were to insist on having only a direct, literal translation of each original Sino-Japanese ideogram. It would be a crude version in broken pidgin English. Professional translators can only be humbled by all the major compromises they have had to make. Beyond the basic problem, the casual Western reader may not suspect how many other major semantic compromises can enter in.

Begin with the title itself. One soon discovers that this same Sino-Japanese title has been translated into English in diffferent ways. Some options from our own era are

• coincidence of difference and sameness
• merging of difference and unity [Loori]
• inquiry into matching halves
• realizing unity [Cleary]
• the coincidence of opposites
• the harmony of difference and equality [Shunryu Suzuki]
• the identity of relative and absolute [Glassman]

and so on.

The above examples suggest that different translators…might have chosen to insert aspects of either their own private experience, or earlier personal opinions, or even some doctrinal belief system into a given phrase. Moreover, each translator can have several other subjective needs…

Let us be more specific, citing only a few potential conflicts that a contemporary translator might need to resolve. Must I adhere rigidly to literal interpretations, to traditional doctrinal formulas (and often multiple footnotes) to remain within acceptable scholarly traditions? Or can I remain true to what experience tells me is the direct, immediate flash of Zen insight itself? Because surely this deepest experiential truth entails letting go of my own tendencies…to attach arcane, dated references that overburden a line and blur the central message.

Nor do the translator’s conflicts and compromises end there. Can I still be true to those few old original ideograms, yet express their flowing spirit and intent in a readable contemporary literary style? Furthermore, must I conspire with the original author in old mystifications , thereby perpetuating the notion that everything about Zen is forever mysterious, if not unknowable?

Austin then proceeds to give his own translation of the Sandokai, which, although I know little Chinese and have never studied this poem in detail, appears to be a major improvement over existing translations in terms of both fidelity and readability

Here is an aspect of translation that often goes unnoticed, whether the document in question is a philosophical tract or a computer manual: the fluent translation is often actually more accurate. In other words, sloppiness on the part of the translator in understanding the original text tends to be correlated with sloppiness in rendering that understanding into the target language.

I’ll have more on Austin’s new book in the coming weeks.

I’ve chosen to celebrate the first anniversary of Numenware—thanks to all my avid readers for their support—with a list of 25 top neurotheology research issues, along with an index to posts that relate to each topic.

1. Meditation. What are the short- and long-term effects of meditation of brain function and structure? (How meditation improves brain function, Meditate and thicken your cortex, Two types of meditation, two types of brain patterns?, Meditation stabilizes perception)
2. Transcendental experience. What are the neurological analogs of transcendental experience—for instance, a particular balance between the sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems?
3. Mental illness. Can we map the relationship between religious-themed behaviors on the part of mentally ill people such as schizophrenics and “normal” religious behavior to the neurological factors underlying that mental illness?
4. Brain pathology. Can we correlate changes in religious behaviors with neuroarchitectural changes and pathologies, such as lobotomies? (Lobotomobile, Religion in the minimally conscious)
5. Hallucinogens. Can we correlate religious-like behaviors that arise under the influence of hallucinogens with the know neurochemical effect of such substances? (Freedom of neuroreligion, Supremes OK getting high at church, LSD’s Albert Hoffman on the colorless substance of reality )
6. Age. Can we correlate the development of “religious” belief (belief in the supernatural and/or afterlife) with the development of the brain in children? ) Is there a neurological correlate to the fact that major religious leaders have had their ephiphanies in their thirties? (Studying children’s belief in the afterlife, Developmental neurotheology, Neurological basis of average age of enlightenment)
7. Species. Can we correlate the difference between primates’ primitive religious behaviors (or those of other advanced mammals) and those of humans with our knowledge of how the human brain has developed over theirs? (Neurozootheology)
8. Gender. How do men and women differ in religious belief and behavior, and can we establish a correlation between that and how they differ in brain structure? (Neurotheology of gender)
9. Polytheism. Can we correlate the difference between monotheistic and polytheistic beliefs with neurological factors?
10. Motor systems. Do “religious people”—in particular meditators—have identifiable differences in motor functioning which can be related to brain structure? (Motor systems, Mirror neurons and neurotheology)
11. East vs. West. Can a relationship be found between known differences in brain structure and function in Occidentals vs. Orientals and the types of religious beliefs and behaviors that have emerged in West and East?
12. Agent hypothesis. Can we design experiments to prove the hypothesis that belief in God is a “spandrel” or “exaptation” of natural selection for a bias for humans to see agency in the world? (Is God an accident?, Why do humans believe in religion?, Pascal Boyer on neurotheology)
13. Dreaming. What is the correlation between experiences of God or the supernatural while dreaming vs. while awake and known differences in neurological processing in the two states? (Dreaming of God)
14. Hypnosis. Is religious belief a form of, or share mechanisms with, hypnosis? (Hypnosis and cognitive processing)
15. Music. Religious ceremony often involves music, and music may evoke religious feelings; meaning that the neurology of music may be able to provide insight into the neurology of religion. (Neuromusicology , Mozart effect II, Religious music in your brain)
16. Zen. Can we find neurotheological references in historical Buddhist literature such as the writings of Dogen? (The sound of one hemisphere clapping)
17. Genetics. In addition to historiocultural, “meme”-like factors underlying religion, could there be specific genetic factors as well, such as ones that might predispose certain people to religious behavior or belief? (Gautama’s Darwinian boost, The Mystical Mind)
18. Aliens. Could belief in aliens or UFOs share an underlying neurological mechanism with the belief in God or the supernatural? (What is it like to believe you were kidnapped by an alien?)
19. Fringe phenomena. Are phenomena such as possession and stigmata real, and if so can we understand their neural basis? (Neurology of possession , Stigmata)
20. Emotions. Emotions are a hot area in neuroscience; can we relate the knowledge gained to religious emotions, such as love of God? (Neuroscience of divine love)
21. Near-death experiences. What is the neurology underlying NDEs and how does it connect to the fact that they often involve religious imagery? (Adaptive value of near-death experiences
22. Speaking in tongues. What are the neural mechanisms related to glossolalia, and how are they related to neurology known to be religiously relevant?

54% of Americans believe in demons, demonic possession, and exorcisms (Wikipedia). That’s not surprising, because most believe in the Bible, which tells many stories (especially in the New Testament) of demons. In one famous case, Jesus cast out a legion of malevolent spirits from a man into 2000 pigs who then leaped into the ocean (Mark 5)—offering a new twist on the old koan about dogs possessing Buddha-nature.

Possession and exorcism are enjoying increased visibility. This year we had another exorcism movie, The Exorcism of Emily Rose (IMDB), based loosely on the true story of a demonic possession in Germany. And it was widely reported that Pope Benedict XVI spoke to a group of exorcists right after his investiture, praising their “important work”.

Exorcisms play an important role in Roman Catholic theology. Baptisms, actually, are a kind of mini-exorcism . In the past, the church also taught that every newborn was possessed by an indwelling demon because of its intimate contact with its mother’s birth canal, a demon which had to be exorcised with a special prayer. Pope John Paul II is reported to have performed three exorcisms during his 23-year papacy. New exorcism guidelines were issued by the Church in 1999, the first revisions in more than 350 years. Devils can now be cast out in local languages, not just Latin. The new rules counsel that less than 1% of people coming to the Church for exorcisms are really possessed—the rest merely need psychiatric treatment. (Of course, other flavors of Christianity as well as non-Christian religions—including Hinduism and Islam—have possession-related theologies as well.)

The “official” secular view of exorcisms, in contrast, is that alleged cases of demonic possession are “merely” brain disorders, such as epilepsy, Tourette’s, schizophrenia, or dissociative identity disorder. However, these medical explanations of the possession phenomenon may not be able to explain some aspects of possession, such as great physical strength (reported in both Biblical and more recent episodes of possession). Of course, as with stigmata, there may be cases of people faking possession, or acting out possession, but it seems highly unlikely that all demonic infestations could be written off as fakery.

Like other religious manifestations, demonic possession is of deep interest to neurotheology. It’s known to be connected to other phenomena like speaking in tongues (some of the possessed speak in unknown languages). You can think of it as a sort of converse to religious megalomania. Most importantly, it’s a known, identifiable phenomenon which can be studied and measured.

In fact, that’s just what Channel 4 in the UK attempted last year, performing an exorcism on live TV while monitoring the subject’s brain (Telegraph article). At the outset, this project seemed profoundly promising. According to an article in Scotland’s Sunday Herald, C4’s Matthew Robinson “highlighted the programme’s scientific elements and insisted the experiment was legitimate”, saying

This is a unique scientific investigation of a much-misunderstood religious practice. Exorcism remains shrouded in mystery. It has always been considered off-limits as far as scientific investigation is concerned, like most apparently inexplicable religious phenomena. But the emergence of neurotheology is changing that.

According to the pre-event publicity, Dr Peter Fenwick (Google search), the noted NDE expert, would monitor the subject’s brain activity. The TV exorcism would be performed by an Anglican priest while cutting-edge neuro-imaging technology monitored activity in the adult male subject’s brain.

The reality was much less enlightening. Inexplicably, C4’s own website appears to contain no content about the show other than some background information about neurotheology. Dr. Fenwick disappears, and instead we are left with the unknown Dr. Jonathan Bird, a “neuro-psychiatrist” who said he observed “very little activity in the parietal region of the brain”, this analysis not based on the promised “cutting edge neuroimaging technology” but rather a plain old electroencephalograph. He also noted “some asymmetry in the temporal lobe”, concluding, “whether that is a brain process or a spiritual process, I leave to the experts.” Where are those experts when you really need them!?

Other aspects of the on-the-air stunt also don’t ring true. We are told that the subject, named “Colin”, claimed he had been “possessed by evil spirits” for many years—but are given no information on his symptomology. The “deliverance” consisted mainly of prayer, strangely devoid of rotating heads or projectile vomiting. Afterwards, Colin made the odd comment that “it was the most relaxed deliverance I have ever had.” Well, how many exactly has he had?

A robust theory of neurotheology will include a compelling story about diabolical possessions . Too bad C4’s program failed so miserably in helping us arrive at one.

In the case of the Brazilian religious group wanting to import its hallucinogenic tea (prevous post on the topic), our nation’s top legal weenies have given the green light to tripping your brains out (opinion by Chief Justice John Roberts), as long as it’s sacramental and circumscribed . I doubt if the likes of Scalia or Thomas are really into the whole cleansing the doors of perception stuff, but hey, Congress has said people have the right to practice their religions (Religious Freedom Restoration Act), and that includes Indians using peyote.

Not an Indian? Not to worry. Courts have ruled that even white people can “join”.

The Dalai Lama has also come out in favor of bioenlightenment, even volunteering to go first if scientists come up with a happiness module they can implant in your brain. But most Buddhist teachers would emphasis the precept against taking things that lead to intoxication or heedlessness. To me, though, it seems that the “heedlessness” part indicates the whole precept is focused on alcohol.

It probably couldn’t have been a proscription against hallucinogenic plants, because, for whatever reasons of botanical fate, Asia, where Buddhism developed, has very few such plants. One exception is the powerful datura (Wikipedia) plant from the nightshade family, which has narcotic qualities and is known in India as “dutra” or “dhatura”. Some ancient Chinese writings are believed to refer to this drug, which apparently was held sacred in that country, where people believed that when Buddha preached, heaven sprinkled the plant with dew.

In addition, some theorize this may be the plant which when burned produced the intoxicating vapors of the Oracle of Delphi.

Actually, the latest theory about the Oracle of Delphi, set out by William J. Broad in his recent book “The Oracle: The Lost Secrets and Hidden Mesage of Ancient Delphi” (Amazon ), is that unique geological structures under the shrine produced a mist of potent, trance-inducing gases.

In an article in the NYT science section on 2006-02-28, entitled “The Oracle Suggests a Truce Between Science and Relgion’, Broad claims that the approach of scientists involved in the discovery represented an important paradigm for the coexistence of science and religion:

[The scientists] claimed no insights into how her utterances stood for ages as monuments of wisdom. They had no explanation for how the priestess inspired Socrates, or the seeming reliability of her visionary pronouncements. In short, the scientists, while solving a major riddle of antiquity, wisely left other mysteries untouched.

This seems very confused. The scientists did not “leave other mysteries untouched” out of some muddled belief in overlapping magisteria, but because they were archaeologists and geologists trying to find the famous chasm under the shrine. If they had been neurobiologists then they should and would have studied the physiological and behavioral effects of inhaling limestone fumes.

A day when a French writer has been threatened with death for writing that Islam harbors violent tendencies seems appropriate for considering the role played in the propagation of destructive and divisive religous beliefs by the indoctrination of unwilling children.

This is a point that Richard Dawkins makes at great length in his new book The God Delusion, which I’ll have more to say about later from the neurotheological perspective. What interests me here is the connection Dawkins makes between the religious abuse (my term) of children and sexual abuse. His point is that, of the two, religious abuse—scaring children with stories of hell, to name just one example—does more profound damage than sexual abuse. He goes so far as to call the current preoccupation with child sex abuse “hysterical” and to compare it with the Salem witch trials.

Hear hear. As I write this, NBC is running a series on its Dateline “news program” called To Catch a Predator, where an on-line decoy posing as a 14-year-old girl, perhaps, entraps foolish men by offering sex if they come to her house where she will be alone. The level of the scam rises to the decoy reminding the victim to bring condoms and liquor. When the clueless prey actually show up at the house, they are met by a reporter who reads back to them their crude chat room dialog and asks them if they really intended to have sex with a 14-year-old. On leaving the house, the men are thrown to the ground by waiting local police and hauled dramatically off to the police station. This scenario is repeated, with very little variation other than the age and profession of the target of the sting, a dozen times in one program. At the end of the program, experts solemnly aver what a grave danger has been averted by capturing these vicious predators before they could harm innocent children.

Try again, NBC. Given what losers these guys are, the chances they would have ever actually done anything without being actively set up are nil. If they have enough money to get a good lawyer, which they probably don’t exactly because they are such losers, they should be free in a heartbeat. Can you really be convicted of corrupting the morals of a minor when the minor is not a minor or doesn’t exist at all? All this program does is show how stupid the network, the audience, and the entrapped men all are. (See a critique from the journalistic perspective.)

Right here in California a proposal to crack down hard on these disgusting perverts, the so-called Jessica’s Law, Proposition 83, will be on the ballot in November. Reportedly over 80% of the voting public are in favor of this. It’s being compared to the Three Strikes Law—a great success which allowed prosecutors to put a man in jail for 50 years for stealing some videotapes (the Supreme Court said that was not cruel and unusual punishment).

The proposal is massive draconian overkill. It makes a mockery of due process by allowing people to be kept incarcerated—not in a jail, of course, but a “hospital”—after they complete their sentence, simply on based on the opinion of a psychiatrist, with no appeal process. It brings many more offenses, including misdemeanors, or boys having sex with their girlfriends, into the metastatizing sexual predator frenzy. It will be expensive, not least due to the requirement for all sex offenders to wear ankle bracelets for the rest of their lives. It will crowd the jails with minor offenders. The residential restrictions will drive the offenders away from populated areas with police and counseling facilities. The entire premise—that sex offenders lurk in bushes then jump out to rape and kill our children—is false.

To its credit, the Sacramento Bee came down against this ineffective initiative:

Sex offenders who prey on children are every parent’s nightmare, and understandably so. Unfortunately, the fear they evoke makes them the bogeyman of choice for pandering politicians. What better targets for candidates in search of an easy issue to demagogue? Proposition 83 is a case in point. Despite Proposition 83’s title—the Sex Offenders, Sexually Violent Predators, Punishment, Residence Restrictions and Monitoring Initiative Statute—it would do nothing to protect children.

There is certainly a class of crimes that are despicable and reprehensible and need to be treated with the same severity as any other serious crime. However, a hallmark of the “debate” about juvenile sexual predation is to fail to make any distinction between such crimes and much less serious ones, or ones which should arguably not be crimes at all. It is no accident that this is the same society where a school teacher in Texas is fired for taking her class on a field trip to a museum which happens to include ancient statues with bare breasts or even dangling penises.

If sexual offenders are such evil incarnate, of such a uniquely perverse nature that they should be treated in a way completely different from regular criminals, let’s adopt unique approaches like not letting them of prison even after they’ve finished their time—just keep them locked up forever. Ooops—we’re already doing that in many places, and that’s one of the things Jessica’s laws wants to do. Well then, how about punishing them even before they offend, in a Minority Report sort of way? That’s already being done too, under an Ohio rule that allows judge to categorize people as sexual offenders, put them on the register, and subject them to all the relevant restrictions, even if there is merely a suspicion that they might have done something bad. The next step, which I’m sure somebody will propose soon enough, is to give the entire population MRIs to see if they’re interested in kids and throw them in jail right then and there.

If addition to the disproprortionality of the punishment to the crime in individual states, another problem is the gross inequity in sentencing levels from state to state. The exact same crime committed in one state could result in a sentence ten or more times longer than if committed in another. This hardly seems like the equal treatment under the law promised by the Consitution.

That we think of pedophiles in a frenzied horror, as opposed to say, murderers, who commit crimes every bit as heinous, is a reflection of our natural need for symbols of pure evil in our lives.

Tetsuharu Kawakami is a legend of Japanese baseball, whose .377 batting performance in 1951 stood as the Central League record for more than thirty years. A red bat his trademark, he was known as the “Batting God”—dageki no kamisama. He went on to become an extremely successful manager for the Yomiuri Giants in the late ‘60s and early ‘70s, winning nine straight titles.

Some observers view Ichiro Suzuki (picture) as his legitimate successor, the “Second Batting God.” But according to this article in the New York Times, there is one skill Kawakami was famous for that Ichiro cannot duplicate: seeing the ball stop.

What would account for the feeling that time has stopped? I don’t know about stopping, but I can offer a general hypothesis for time slowing. Assume that the human sense of time—the “atomic clock of the brain”, as it were—is related to the operational speed of the brain as it engages in cognitive activities. If the brain operated faster, more processing would occur in the same amount of time as measured by a clock on the wall, thus leading to a slower internal sense of time.

So perhaps Kawakami’s synapses fired faster as the pitch raced from the pitcher’s hand toward the batter’s box. Is that possible? Or, perhaps wider swaths of Kawakami’s brain were recruited to process, in parallel, more information about the pitch than in the case of lesser batters, yielding greater computational output, which might translate into the same sense of time slowing.

This could be an interesting research project, if we can find subjects who can reliably slow their sense of time. Neuroimaging of such people should show discernible patterns that could serve as a starting point for understanding this phenomenon.

Such research could also help us in our development of theories of neurotheology, since we know that religious experiences can also involve a similar sense of time slowing.

All students of the brain will want to read Joseph LeDoux’ Synaptic Self, a highly competent, very readable tour of the state of current knowledge about neurological functioning.

The book gets dense occasionally, and in the interest of presenting all relevant scientific findings the book can read like an annotated bibliography in places, but overall the coverage is good, the perspective objective.

To take just one example, I was particularly intrigued by the precise explanation of how Hebbian plasticity functions at the level of AMPA receptors and NMDA receptors (sometimes called “Hebbosomes”), and enzymes called protein kinases.

Given LeDoux’ work on emotion, it’s not surprising that his thinking in this area is especially lucid. The distinction between “feeling” and “emotion”, which he uses to refer to “the process by which the brain determines or computes the value of a stimulus”, seems highly useful.

Initially I was put off by the name of this book, and I have to say that the author’s ambitious attempt to show how the synapses add up to the “self” does fall flat, as we can see from the weak conclusion:

You are your synapses. They are who you are.

But the book remains one of the best introductions to the brain for the knowledgeable amateur that I’ve seen, although it hardly mentions religion, other than in the context of some early musings about religion’s view of the self. and thus will not provide much grist for the neurotheological mill.

(Numenware was down for almost two days due to a server crash. My apologies for the inconvenience.)

Freakonomics is a current best-seller looking at real-world applications of economics. Steven Levitt, the author, says sumo is rigged.

That’s horrible! What’s his evidence? Well, wrestlers who have a 7-7 record on senshuraku, the last day of the bimonthly fifteen-day tournaments, and therefore face demotion if they lose, win 80% of their matches against opponents who have already notched their eighth victory and are safe from demotion, even though statistically they would be expected to win only 50%.

Further, in the next match between the same two wrestlers, the win-loss percentage is precisely reversed! In other words, the wrestler in the first match who is allowed to win then “repays” his opponent in the second match by letting him win.

Statistically, I’m sure the win-loss patterns the author discovered are not attributable purely to differences in skill. But that is not enough to condemn sumo as being “fixed”.

First, by definition, a game being fixed or rigged requires some quid pro quo. The authors of Freakonomics speculate about the possibility of bribes or payoffs, but of course have no way to validate that. Personally, I doubt that money is changing hands. The entire “transaction”, or “agreement”, to lose now and get paid back later, is probably non-verbal. It’s possible that it is not even entirely conscious.

But whether non-verbal or non-conscious, such behavior still offends our Western notion of fairness. We say: the wrestlers are “cheating.”

But in a way this behavior is entirely fair: anyone who enters the last day at 7-7 can expect to be given the same favorable treatment by any opponent who is 8-6. And the effect on rankings is smaller than you might think. It certainly does not rise to the level of a structural effect, like someone throwing a World Series game. The authors make the point that big money is at stake—yokozuna can make a million dollars a year, and being demoted out of juryo cuts off your salary altogether if I recall—but in fact any biasing of the results caused by shading 7-7 matches does not cause major swings in salary-related outcome values either.

Rather, the result is simply to put a bit of a damper on the ups and downs of the game—to decrease the standard deviation, if you will. Wrestlers the fans know and love may stay around a bit longer before getting demoted or retiring to open a chanko nabe restaurant.

Instead of making the pedestrian observation that money can lead people to cheat, a phenomenon hardly worthy of their attention, it would have been great if the authors could have brought some real insight to the sumo question, namely what the value function is that is maximized by the behavior in question—in this case, the Japanese values of stability, prestige, and solidarity.

Dogen mentions the game of Go exactly once in his writings, in the “Spring and Autumn” fascicle of SBGZ. That’s of deep interest to both go players and Zen students. What did the old geezer have to say?

Maybe that Go is an analogy for englightenment? Sounds promising, and that’s the interpretation of Bill Cobb in his essay Empty Board:

There is good evidence that ancient Chinese and Japanese Zen masters associated playing Go with the experience of enlightenment. The writings of the thirteenth century Japanese Zen master Dogen contain a clear example.

Let’s take a look at this. “Spring and Autumn” is nominally about heat and cold. It starts with a dialog between Tozan (Dongshan) and a disciple, where the disciple asks the master, “When cold or heat comes, how can we avoid it?”, and the master answers, “Why don’t you go where there is no cold or heat?”

Dogen then paraphrases a commentary by Wanshi, a Chinese Zen master from the twelfth century, on the case (my translation):

Discussing this is like two players playing Go, where you’ve got to answer my move if you don’t want to get taken for a ride. You won’t grasp what Tozan is saying until you’ve internalized this.

Wanshi has changed the subject. He is no longer talking about heat and cold—he’s talking about the nature of dialog. He’s saying that dialog, like a game of go, is an interaction between two active players. We must, he tells us, understand the nature of dialog in order to understand this particular dialog between Tozan and the disciple, and by extension the relationship between teacher and disciple. If Wanshi were giving this talk today, he’d probably be using tennis instead of go as an example.

Dogen now comments on the commentary:

Sticking with the go analogy for now, the real question is what’s happening with the two players. The minute you talk about two players playing go, you’ve become a bystander, which is no good because bystanders can’t play go. Playing go means one player and his opponent facing each other, it must be said.

Dogen didn’t like Go, which had a reputation as a gambling game and a waste of time. Far from comparing Go to enlightenment, he didn’t even really like Wanshi’s use of Go in the analogy.

Incredibly, instead of “bystander” Tanahashi has “a handicap of eight stones”, a mistake also found in the Nishijima/Cross rendition, involving the word “hachimoku”, which in this context clearly has the “bystander” meaning (“okame hachimoku”). And instead of “playing go means one player and his opponent facing each other”, Tanahashi gets ultra-creative with “you play Go by yourself; the opponents become one”, which also has no relationship with the original.

What’s really happening here is that in typical Dogenesque fashion, our friendly master is changing the subject once again—this time to the question of involvement, and the way that our language with expressions such as “two players playing go” itself facilitates separation by helping to hide the fact that I myself am one of those two players!

Continuing with my translation:

In addition, though, you should explore Wanshi’s “you’ve got to answer my move” with an engaged mind. Wrap your body around it to study it. “You’ve got to answer my move” is saying that you can never be me. Nor must you skip over his “if you don’t want to get taken for a ride” part.

For “you can never be me”, Tanahashi has “’you’ are not yet ‘you’,” whatever that was supposed to mean.

Cobb now gives an exuberant summary based on the incorrect Tanahashi translation:

Here we have a striking example of the use of Go by ancient Zen masters to explain enlightenment. Dogen speaks of the experience of enlightenment as “dropping off body and mind”, which means losing one’s sense of being a separate being, ultimately distinct from the world and from others. He and Hongzhi are suggesting that playing Go involves this experience of non-separateness.

He goes on:

If you’re curious about what nirvana is like, the next time you start a game take the advice of ancient Zen masters and just play, not trying to do anything else. Let the game “swallow you up.”

But you already get the idea.

The bottom line: Dogen had nothing special to tell us about go or go players. But we can certainly enjoy Dogen’s insights on the relationship between language and subjectivity. And we can remind ourselves of how important it is to get translations right, especially when they are going to be used by other scholars as a basis for further commentary.

(Thanks to John Fairbairn for his help.)

Can our brain sense that it is going to be able to recall something before it actually does?

Ken Jennings’ brain can. Jennings (picture) won more than $2,000,000 in 72 straight appearances on the US game show Jeopardy. In this game players “ring in” if they think they know the answer, then have five seconds to give that answer. Jennings, in many cases, is clearly ringing in before he knows the answer, then often takes nearly the entire five seconds to come up with the inevitably correct answer.

It thus appears that Jennings has the metacognitive ability to sense whether or not he knows the answer before that answer has actually been retrieved from the recesses of his brain. The explanation that he simply rings in on topics which he knows well (movies in his case) is too simple. It seems that something more sophisticated is at work—he appears to actually know whether or not he knows something before he has fully retrieved that knowledge.

In computer science terms, perhaps Ken’s strategy could be compared to “precompiling” a database query, or calculating retrieval cost in advance.

What is the model for human memory that could explain this? Is the “do-I-know-it” recall act a rougher, abbreviated, accelerated version of full retrieval, or is it a different process altogether, possibly accessing an alternative, compact, pre-indexed “high-speed” version of the knowledge?