A (; Japanese: 公案; ; Korean: 화두; Vietnamese: công án) is a story, dialogue, question, or statement from the Chinese Chan Buddhist lore, supplemented with commentaries, that is used in Zen Buddhist practice in different ways. The main goal of practice in Zen is to achieve ('seeing one's true nature').
Extended study of literature as well as meditation on a is a major feature of modern Rinzai Zen. They are also studied in the Sōtō school of Zen to a lesser extent. In Chinese Chan and Korean Seon Buddhism, meditating on a, a key phrase of a, is also major Zen meditation method.
The Japanese term is the Sino-Japanese reading of the Chinese word . The term is a compound word, consisting of the characters Chinese: [[wikt:公|公]] ('public; official; governmental; common; collective; fair; equitable') and Chinese: [[wikt:案|案]] ('table; desk; (law) case; record; file; plan; proposal.')
According to the Yuan dynasty Zen master Zhongfeng Mingben (Chinese: 中峰明本 1263–1323), originated as an abbreviation of (Chinese: 公府之案牘, Japanese —literally the ('official correspondence; documents; files') of a ('government post')), which referred to a "public record" or the "case records of a public law court" in Tang dynasty China. / thus serves as a metaphor for principles of reality beyond the private opinion of one person, and a teacher may test the student's ability to recognize and understand that principle.
Commentaries in collections bear some similarity to judicial decisions that cite and sometimes modify precedents. An article by T. Griffith Foulk claims:
was itself originally a metonym—an article of furniture involved in setting legal precedents came to stand for such precedents. For example, (Chinese: 狄公案) is the original title of Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee, the famous Chinese detective novel based on a historical Tang dynasty judge. Similarly, Zen collections are public records of the notable sayings and actions of Zen masters and disciples attempting to pass on their teachings.
The popular Western understanding sees as referring to an unanswerable question or a meaningless or absurd statement. However, in Zen practice, a is not meaningless, and not a riddle or a puzzle. Teachers do expect students to present an appropriate response when asked about a . According to Hori, a central theme of many is the 'identity of opposites':
Comparable statements are: "Look at the flower and the flower also looks"; "Guest and host interchange". are also understood as pointers to an unmediated "Pure Consciousness", devoid of cognitive activity. Victor Hori criticizes this understanding:
literature developed at some point in between the late Tang dynasty (10th century) to the Song dynasty (960–1279), though the details are unclear. They arose out of the collections of the recorded sayings of Chán masters and "transmission" texts like the Transmission of the Lamp. These sources contained numerous stories of famous past Chán masters which were used to educate Zen students. According to Morten Schlütter "it is not clear exactly when the practice of commenting on old gongan cases started, but the earliest Chan masters to have such commentaries included in the recorded sayings attributed to them appear to be Yunmen Wenyan and Fenyang Shanzhao (947–1024)."
According to Robert Buswell, the tradition "can be viewed as the products of an internal dynamic within Chan that began in the T'ang and climaxed in the Sung." By the beginning of the Song era, Chan masters were known to use these stories in their sermons, as well as to comment on them and to use them to challenge their students.
Schlütter also writes:
Originally, such a story was only considered a when it was commented upon by another Chán master, i.e. when it was used as a "case" study for enlightenment. This practice of commenting on the words and deeds of past masters also served to confirm the master's position as an awakened master in a lineage of awakened masters of the past.
According to Schlütter, these stories were also used "to challenge Chan students to demonstrate their insights: a Chan master would cite a story about a famous master and then demand that his students comment." Later on, certain questions (like: "Why did Bodhidharma come from the West?") developed independently from the traditional stories and were used in the same fashion. Schlütter also notes that "most commonly used in the Song originally came from the influential Transmission of the Lamp, although the subsequent transmission histories also became sources of ."
Over time, a whole literary genre of collection and commentary developed which was influenced by "educated literati" of the Song era. These collections included quotations of encounter-dialogue passages (the "cases",) with a master's comment on the case attached. When a prose comment was added, the genre was called ('picking up the old ones'), and when poems were used to comment, the genre was termed ('eulogizing the old ones'). Further commentaries would then be written by later figures on these initial comments, leading to quite complex and layered texts.
The style of these Song-era Zen texts was influenced by many Chinese literary conventions and the style of "literary games" (competitions involving improvised poetry). Common literary devices included:
There were dangers involved in such a highly literary approach, such as ascribing specific meanings to the cases, or become too involved in book learning. Dahui Zonggao is even said to have burned the woodblocks of the Blue Cliff Record, for the hindrance it had become to the study of Chán by his students.
During the late Song dynasty (11th–12th century), the practice of assigning specific to students for contemplation had become quite common and some sources contain examples of Zen masters (e.g. Touzi Yiqing) who became enlightened through contemplating a .
Thus, by the time of Dahui Zonggao (1089–1163), this practice was well established. Dahui promoted and popularized the practice extensively, under the name of "observing the phrase zen" . In this practice, students were to observe or concentrate on a single word or phrase, such as the famous of the, and develop a sense of "great doubt" within until this ball of doubt "shattered", leading to enlightenment. Dahui's invention was aimed at balancing the insight developed by reflection on the teachings with developing śamatha, calmness of mind.
This idea of observing a key phrase or word was Dahui's unique contribution, since the earlier method of contemplation never taught the focusing on a single word, nor did it teach to develop a "ball of doubt that builds up before finally shattering." According to Wright, instead of focusing on the full narrative of a, Dahui promoted "intense focus on one critical phrase, generally one word or element at the climax of the ."
Dahui also taught that meditation on just one of a single was enough to achieve enlightenment, since penetrating one was penetrating into all of them. He went even further, arguing that this new meditation technique was the only way of achieving enlightenment for Chan practitioners of his day. Thus, Schlütter writes that "in this insistence, he was unusual among the Song Chan masters, who generally tended to take a rather inclusive view of Buddhist practice. It is therefore fair to say that Dahui not only developed a new contemplative technique, he also invented a whole new kind of Chan in the process." Whatever the case, Dahui was extremely influential in shaping the development of the Linji school in the Song.
Dale S. Wright also writes that Dahui:
As Robert Buswell explains, this emphasis on non-conceptual meditation on a meant that "there is nothing that need be developed; all the student must do is simply renounce both the hope that there is something that can be achieved through the practice as well as the conceit that he will achieve that result."
Wright argues that since "the narrative structure of the was eliminated in the focus on a single point", that is the (which was said to have no meaning), such a practice became a śamatha-like practice (which even resembles Caodong silent illumination), even if this was never acknowledged by the masters of the Linji school in the Song. Furthermore, Wright also argues that this practice was anti-intellectual since all learning was to be renounced in the practice of . According to Wright, this development left Chinese Chán vulnerable to criticisms by a resurgent neo-Confucianism.
According to Kasulis, the rise of contemplation in Song-era Zen led to a greater emphasis on the interaction between master and student, which came to be identified as the essence of enlightenment, since "its verification was always interpersonal. In effect, enlightenment came to be understood not so much as an insight, but as a way of acting in the world with other people."
This mutual inquiry of past cases gave Zen students a role model and a sense of belonging to a spiritual family since "one looked at the enlightened activities of one's lineal forebears in order to understand one's own identity." The practice also served to confirm an individual's enlightenment and authority in a specific lineage or school. This formal authorization or confirmation (Japanese:, Korean:) was given by their teacher and was often part of a process of "dharma transmission" in a specific lineage.[1] [2] This formal act placed the "confirmed" Chan master in a special unique position as an interpreter and guide to the .
The importance of the teacher student relationship is seen in modern Japanese training which always requires an authorized teacher (or) in a specific lineage who has the ability to judge a disciple's understanding and expression of a . In the Rinzai Zen school, which uses extensively, the teacher certification process includes an appraisal of proficiency in using that school's extensive curriculum. According to Barbara O'Brien, the practice of going to a private interview with one's Zen master where one has to prove one's understanding of "is the real point of the whole exercise".[3]
Some of the key Song-era collections are:
These texts mostly draw and develop stories which are found in other sources, mainly the Anthology of the Patriarchal Hall (Chinese, mid-10th century), and the hagiographical Jingde Record of the Transmission of the Lamp (Chinese, early 11th century).
Zhongfeng Mingben (1263–1323), a Chinese Chan master who lived at the beginning of the Yuan Dynasty, revitalized the Chinese Linji school. Zhongfeng put a strong emphasis on the use of, seeing them as a "work of literature [that] should be used as objective, universal standards to test the insight of monks who aspired to be recognized as Ch'an masters". He also promoted Dahui's famous method of meditating on a and influenced several Japanese Rinzai masters of the time who came to China to study with him, including Kosen Ingen, Kohō Kakumyō, Jakushitsu Genkō (1290–1367).[4] [5]
According to Zhongfeng:
thumb|Chan Master Miyun YuanwuIn later periods like the Ming dynasty, Chinese Chan developed in different directions, such as incorporating Pure Land elements and the re-introduction of an emphasis on the study of scripture.
However, meditation was still practiced in the Linji lineages. During the Ming, Miyun Yuanwu (1566–1642) was a successful promoter of the Linji school's methods, emphasizing vigorous master disciple encounters which made use of shouting and beating in imitation of classic stories. Yuanwu's efforts to revive the Linji tradition were so successful that according to Marcus Bingenheimer, "Miyun's Tiantong branch Chinese: 天童派 of the Linji School became the dominant Chan lineage in China and beyond" .[6] He led numerous communities of thousands of monks and confirmed twelve dharma heirs.
His teachings also influenced Japanese Zen since his student Yinyuan Longqi (Japanese: Ingen Ryūki, 1592–1673) later founded the Ōbaku school in Japan.[7] This lineage also spread the Linji teachings to Vietnam, mainly through the efforts of Yuanshao (Chinese: 元韶, 1648–1728).
See main article: Hua Tou.
In the modern period, the practice of meditating on the critical phrase of a is still taught and some Chinese Chan figures like Sheng Yen and Xuyun taught the practice and wrote on it.[8] [9]
Modern Chinese Chán and Korean Seon generally follow the method taught by Dahui, which emphasizes meditation on a ('critical phrase', 'word head'). In this method one repeats the phrase over and over again and inquires into it while in meditation (sitting or walking) as well as in daily activities. In this mainland tradition of practice, also called, 'reflection on the ', a fragment of a, such as, or a "what is"-question is used by focusing on this fragment and repeating it over and over again.[10]
In this tradition one generally contemplates one such phrase for an extended period of time, going deeper and deeper into it, instead of going through an extended curriculum as in Japanese Rinzai. A student may be assigned only one for their whole life. The focus of this contemplation is on generating the sense of "great doubt" and on having faith in the Dharma and the practice. According to Ford the "becomes a touchstone of our practice: it is a place to put our doubt, to cultivate great doubt, to allow the revelation of great faith, and to focus our great energy."
Xuyun wrote:
Examples of which are used in meditation include: "What is this?"; "What was the original face before my father and mother were born?"; "Who is dragging this corpse about?"; and "Who am I?".[11]
Another popular practice in Chinese Chan is using the (repetition of Amitabha Buddha's name) as a practice. This method of " Chan" (Chinese: 念佛禪) was promoted in the modern era by Xuyun and relies on repeating the Buddha's name while also asking "who is reciting?".[12] [13] The practice of using in a like fashion is also found in the Japanese Ōbaku school and was taught by their founding masters (including Yǐnyuán, i.e. Ingen), indicating that this method dates at least as far back as the Ming dynasty.[14]
The modern Korean master Seung Sahn developed his own curriculum of multiple in his Kwan Um School of Zen, but this was a modern development unheard of in Korean Seon.
See main article: Japanese Zen.
When the Chán tradition was established in Japan in the 12th century, both Rinzai and Sōtō, took over the use of study and commenting. In Sōtō-Zen, commentary was not linked to seated meditation. Japanese monks had to master the Chinese language and specific expressions used in the training. The desired "spontaneity" expressed by enlightened masters required a thorough study of Chinese language and poetry. Japanese Zen imitated the Chinese "syntax and stereotyped norms".
During the Kamakura period, the officially recognized Rinzai monasteries belonging to the (Five Mountain System) where key centers for the study of . Senior monks in these monasteries were supposed to compose Chinese verse in a complex style of matched counterpoints known as . It took a lot of literary and intellectual skills for a monk to succeed in this system.
The Rinka monasteries, the provincial temples which were under less direct state control, laid less stress on the correct command of Chinese verse. These monasteries developed "more accessible methods of instruction". It had three features:
By standardizing the curriculum every generation of students proceeded to the same series of . Students had to memorize a set number of stereotyped sayings,, 'appended words'. The proper series of responses for each were taught by the master in private instruction sessions to selected individual students who would inherit the dharma lineage.
The development of Rinzai curriculums occurred in various stages. According to Eshin Nishimura, Japanese Rinzai-masters like (1202–1280) and (1235–1308) had already divided the Chinese into three groups namely ('ultimate truth'), ('skillful method') and ('non-attachment').[15] Musō Soseki (1275–1351) further developed the use of . Despite belonging to the Rinzai-school, Musō Soseki also made extensive use of (teaching), explaining the sutras, instead of . According to Musō Soseki, both are, 'skillful means' meant to educate students. Musō Soseki called both, 'little jewels', tools to help the student to attain satori.
In the 18th century, the Rinzai school became dominated by the legacy of Hakuin, who laid a strong emphasis on study as a means to gain, but also not to get stuck in this initial insight, and to develop a compassionate, selfless attitude. After Hakuin, most Rinzai monasteries followed the teachings of his lineage on practice. study was also further systematized in a standard sequence of that the student had to pass and work through step by step. There are two curricula used in Rinzai, derived from two dharma-heirs of Gasan: the Takuju curriculum, and the Inzan curriculum. Both curricula have standardized answers.
practice is particularly important among Japanese practitioners of the Rinzai school. Japanese Rinzai uses extensive -curricula, checking questions, and ('capping phrases', quotations from Chinese poetry) in its use of koans,
Koan practice starts with the, or 'first barrier', usually the or the question "What is the sound of one hand?". After having attained, students continue their practice investigating subsequent . In the Takuju-school, after breakthrough students work through the Gateless Gate, the Blue Cliff Record, the Entangling Vines, and the Collection of Wings of the Blackbird (Japanese: 鴆羽集,). The Inzan-school uses its own internally generated list of .
In Rinzai a gradual succession of is studied. There are two general branches of curricula used within Rinzai, the Takuju curriculum, and the Inzan curriculum. However, there are a number of sub-branches of these, and additional variations of curriculum often exist between individual teaching lines which can reflect the recorded experiences of a particular lineage's members. curricula are, in fact, subject to continued accretion and evolution over time, and thus are best considered living traditions of practice rather than set programs of study.
While Hakuin only refers to break-through, and "difficult to pass" to sharpen and refine the initial insight and foster compassion, Hakuin's descendants developed a fivefold classification system:
According to Akizuki there was an older classification system, in which the fifth category was, 'Directed upwards'. This category too was meant to rid the monk of any "stink of Zen". The very advanced practitioner may also receive the, "The last barrier", and, "The final confirmation". "The last barrier" is given when one left the training hall, for example "Sum up all of the records of Rinzai in one word!" It is not meant to be solved immediately, but to be carried around in order to keep practising. "The final confirmation" may be another word for the same kind of . Shin'ichi Hisamatsu gave "If nothing what you do will do, then what will you do?" as 'unanswerable' question, which keeps nagging on premature certainty.
In the Rinzai school, the Sanbo Kyodan, and the White Plum Asanga, practice starts with the assignment of a or "break-through ", usually the or "the sound of one hand". Students are instructed to concentrate on the "word-head", like the phrase . In the Wumenguan, public case No. 1 ("Zhaozhou's Dog"), Wumen (Mumon) wrote:
Arousing this great inquiry or "Great Doubt" is an essential element of practice. It builds up "strong internal pressure, never stopping knocking from within at the door of [the] mind, demanding to be resolved". To illustrate the enormous concentration required in meditation, Zen Master Wumen commented:
Analysing the for its literal meaning will not lead to insight, though understanding the context from which emerged can make them more intelligible. For example, when a monk asked Zhaozhou (Joshu) "does a dog have Buddha-nature or not?", the monk was referring to the understanding of the teachings on Buddha-nature, which were understood in the Chinese context of absolute and relative reality.
The continuous pondering of the break-through or, "word head", leads to, an initial insight into "seeing the (Buddha-)nature.
The aim of the break-through is to see the "nonduality of subject and object":
Various accounts can be found which describe "becoming one" with the and the resulting breakthrough:
However, the use of the has also been criticised. According to Ama Samy, the main aim is merely to "'become one' with the ". Showing to have 'become one' with the first is enough to pass the first . According to Samy, this is not equal to :
Teachers may probe students about their practice using, "checking questions" to validate their (understanding) or (seeing the nature). For the and the clapping hand-, there are between 20 and 100 checking questions, depending on the teaching lineage. The checking questions serve to deepen the insight or of the student, but also to test his or her understanding.
Those checking questions, and their answers, are part of a standardised set of questions and answers. Ama Samy states that the "s and their standard answers are fixed." Isshu Muira Roshi also states, in The Zen Koan: "In the Inzan and Takuju lines, the answers to the koans were more or less standardized for each line respectively." and, "Records of secret instruction" have been preserved for various Rinzai lineages. They contain both the curricula and the standardized answers.
In Sōtō-Zen they are called, an abbreviation of, "secret instructions of the lineage". The follow a standard question-and-answer format. A series of questions is given, to be asked by the master. The answers are also given by the master, to be memorized by the student.
According to critics, students are learning a "ritual performance", learning how to behave and respond in specific ways, learning "clever repartees, ritualized language and gestures and be submissive to the master's diktat and arbitration."
In 1916 Tominaga Shūho, using the pseudonym "Hau Hōō", published a critique of the Rinzai system,, which also contained a translation of a . The part has been translated by Yoel Hoffmann as "The Sound of the One Hand" (see) and .
In the Rinzai school, passing a koan and the checking questions has to be supplemented by jakugo, "capping phrases", citations of Chinese poetry to demonstrate the insight. Students can use collections of those citations, instead of composing poetry themselves.
After the initial insight further practice is necessary, to deepen the insight and learn to integrate it in daily life. In Chinese Chán and Korean Seon, this further practice consists of further pondering of the same Hua Tou. In Rinzai-Zen, this further practice is undertaken by further koan-study, for which elaborate curricula exist. In Sōtō-Zen, Shikantaza is the main practice for deepening insight.
After completing the koan-training, Gogo no shugyo is necessary:
Completing the koan-curriculum in the Rinzai-schools traditionally also led to a mastery of Chinese poetry and literary skills:
Hakuin Ekaku, the 17th century revitalizer of the Rinzai school, taught several practices which serve to correct physical and mental imbalances arising from, among other things, incorrect or excessive koan practice. The "soft-butter" method (nanso no ho) and "introspection method" (naikan no ho) involve cultivation of ki centered on the tanden (Chinese:dantian). These practices are described in Hakuin's works Orategama and Yasen Kanna, and are still taught in some Rinzai lineages today.
Few Sōtō Zen practitioners concentrate on kōans during meditation, but the Sōtō sect has a strong historical connection with kōans, since many kōan collections were compiled by Sōtō priests. During the 13th century, Dōgen, founder of the Sōtō sect in Japan, quoted 580 kōans in his teachings. He compiled some 300 kōans in the volumes known as the Greater Shōbōgenzō. Dōgen wrote of Genjokōan, which points out that everyday life experience and indeed, the whole universe in this moment, is the "fundamental kōan", which does not refer to any ancient Zen story, but to the "heart of the matter", the question of life and death.[16] [17]
Over time, Sōtō sect adopted various koan meditation methods from other schools like Rinzai, including the method of observing a koan in meditation and koan curriculums. By the 15th century, Sōtō temples were publishing koan texts, and Sōtō monks often studied at Rinzai temples and passed on Rinzai koan practice lineages (and vice versa).[18] Sōtō teachers continued to write and collect kōan texts throughout the medieval period. Later kōan collections compiled and annotated by Sōtō priests include The Iron Flute (Tetteki Tōsui) by Genrō Ōryū in 1783 and Verses and Commentaries on One Hundred Old Cases of Tenchian (Tenchian hyakusoku hyoju) compiled by Tetsumon in 1771.
However, during the late 18th and 19th century, the Sōtō tradition of commentary and practice became criticized and suppressed in the Sōtō school, due to a reform movement that sought to return to the teaching of Dōgen and standardise the procedures for dharma transmission. An important figure in this development was Gentō Sokuchū (1729-1807), who sought to remove Rinzai and Obaku influences on Sōtō and focus strictly on Dōgen's teachings and writings.[19]
Another reason for suppressing the tradition in the Sōtō school may have been to highlight the differences with the Rinzai school, and create a clear Sōtō identity. This reform movement had started to venerate Dōgen as the founding teacher of the Sōtō school and they sought to make Dōgen's teachings the main standard for the Sōtō school. While Dōgen himself made extensive use of commentary in his works, it is clear he emphasized shikantaza ("just sitting") without an object, instead of the koan introspection method.[20]
The Sanbo Kyodan school of the former Sōtō-priest Hakuun Yasutani, and the White Plum Asanga of Taizan Maezumi and the many groups that derive from him, incorporate koan-study. The Sanbo kyodan places great emphasis on kensho, initial insight into one's true nature, as a start of real practice. It follows the so-called Harada-Yasutani koan-curriculum, which is derived from Hakuin's student Takuju. It is a shortened koan-curriculum, in which the so-called "capping phrases" are removed. The curriculum takes considerably less time to study than the Takuju-curriculum of Rinzai.
To attain kensho, most students are assigned the mu-koan. After breaking through, the student first studies twenty-two "in-house" koans, which are "unpublished and not for the general public", but are nevertheless published and commented upon.[21] There-after, the students goes through the Gateless Gate (Mumonkan), the Blue Cliff Record, the Book of Equanimity, and the Record of Transmitting the Light. The koan-curriculum is completed by the Five ranks of Tozan and the precepts.
See main article: Mu (negative).
"Zhaozhou" is rendered as "Chao-chou" in Wade-Giles, and pronounced "Joshu" in Japanese. "Wu" appears as "mu" in Japanese, meaning "no", "not", "nonbeing", or "without" in English. This is a fragment of Case No. 1 of the Wúménguān. However, another koan presents a longer version, in which Zhaozhou answered "yes" in response to the same question asked by a different monk: see Case No. 18 of the Book of Serenity.
Victor Hori comments:
Yet, Hakuin himself introduced this question with a reference to Kanzeon (Guanyin), bodhisattva of great compassion, who hears the sounds of the suffering ones in the world, and is awakened by hearing these sounds and responding to them. To hear the sound of one hand is to still the sounds of the world, that is, to put an end to all suffering.
See main article: Original face.
This is a fragment of case No. 23 of the Wumenguan.
This is a fragment of case No. 18 of the Wumenguan as well as case No. 12 of the Blue Cliff Record.
This is a fragment of case No. 37 of the Wumenguan as well as case No. 47 of the Book of Serenity.
Gentō Sokuchū, the 18th century abbot of Dogen's Eihei-ji, aggressively sought to reform Sōtō from all things 'foreign' and associated with Rinzai, including kōans. The unorthodox Zen monk Ikkyū contemplated kōans for years while creating dolls for a merchant in Kyoto, specifically penetrating the case no. 15 from The Gateless Gate and thereafter earning his dharma name Ikkyū.
Facing criticism by Buddhists such as Philip Kapleau and D. T. Suzuki for misunderstanding Zen, Alan Watts claimed that a kōan supported his lack of zazen practice. On the topic, Suzuki claimed: "I regret to say that Mr. Watts did not understand that story."
Douglas Hofstadter's 1979 book discusses Zen kōans in relation to paradoxical questions and perceiving reality outside of one's experience. Inspired by Zen teachings (including kōans), Frank Herbert wrote on the subject of the paradoxical elements of his Dune series:
The 1989 South Korean film Why Has Bodhi-Dharma Left for the East? bases much of its narrative on kōans, with its title deriving from a particular kōan about the founder of Zen, Bodhidharma.[22]
After becoming smitten with Zen (even offering to turn his own house into a zendo), filmmaker Alejandro Jodorowsky meditated and studied koans with the traveling monk Ejo Takata (1928–1997). After the release of The Holy Mountain, Jodorowsky gave a talk at the University of Mexico on the subject of kōans. After this talk, Takata gifted Jodorowsky his keisaku, believing that the filmmaker had mastered the ability to understand kōans.
In the 1958 novel The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac paraphrases the Yunmen shit-stick kōan as: "The Buddha is a dried piece of turd". The second volume of the manga Lone Wolf and Cub by Kazuo Koike and Goseki Kojima is titled 'The Gateless Barrier' and revolves around a Linji kōan ("If you meet a Buddha, kill him") as the protagonist is tasked to kill a troublesome "living Buddha".[23]
In hacker culture, funny short stories concerning computer science developed, named hacker koans. The book Jargon File contains many kōans, including the AI Koans. The Codeless Code is another book about software engineers at big businesses instead of unix hackers, deriving its title from the Gateless Gate.[24]
The song "False Prophet" by Bob Dylan includes the line: "I climbed a mountain of swords on my bare feet", a reference to a Gateless Gate kōan ("You must climb a mountain of swords with bare feet").[25] British musical artist Brian Eno collaborated with Intermorphic on developing a generative music software system named Koan. In 2009, American composer and multi-instrumentalist Tyshawn Sorey released his second album, Koan.[26]
The 1997 novel The Sound of One Hand Clapping by Richard Flanagan (and its 1998 film adaptation of the same name) derives its title from a kōan by Hakuin Ekaku. The episode of the 2014 first season of Fargo entitled "Eating the Blame" derives its episode title from a koan of the same name from the Shasekishū.[27] Cyriaque Lamar of io9 stated that the approach to technology in was reminiscent of kōans.[28]
According to Mario Poceski, encounter dialogues (which form the content of koans) are not historically reliable and "have little or nothing to do with the lives, ideas, and teachings of the Tang-era protagonists who are featured in them."[29] Such stories instead reflect the artistic license and religious imagination of mid-tenth century Chan.[30] Poceski further observes that although Zen is often portrayed as promoting spontaneity and freedom, encounter-dialogue exegesis actually points in the opposite direction, namely towards a tradition bound by established parameters of orthodoxy.[31] According to Poceski, on the whole, the encounter-dialogue genre is marked by formulaic repetition and cliché.[32] He describes encounter-dialogue stories as "mass produced" and "artificially manufactured."[33] He says:
In the end, notwithstanding the iconoclastic ethos imputed to them, it is apparent that these textual sources are products of a conservative tradition that, in the course of its growth and transformation during the Tang-Song transition, was keen to promote a particular version of Buddhist orthodoxy and secure its place as the main representative of elite Chinese Buddhism.[34]
Poceski points out how, in commenting on gong'an, Chan masters' interpretive possibilities are limited by "the straightjacket of a certain type of Chan orthodoxy."[35] This refers to "ideological constraints and clerical agendas" which take encounter-dialogue stories as depictions of the enlightened behavior of perfected beings that point to some rarefied truth, despite there being no compelling empirical evidence for this.[36] According to Poceski, as this is never up for questioning or scrutiny, gong'an stories amount to "received articles of faith, reinforced by a cumulative tradition and embedded in specific institutional structures."[37]
Poceski explains how these institutional agendas are tied up with nexuses of power. Commenting on gong'an bolstered Chan masters as living embodiments of a mystical Chan lineage, reinforcing their status and authority.[38] In addition to this, the ostentatious literary form such exegesis often took served to impress literati supporters, the sociopolitical elites of Song China, who were its intended audience.[39] In this way, gong'an exegesis echoed the cultural predilections and aesthetic sensibilities of the establishment.[40]
Poceski also points out how gong'an exegesis deploys certain strategies to deflect criticism or challenges to authority which continue all the way to the present.[41] These often involve the charge that critics lack genuine Chan experience and understanding.[42] As this can be true even for bodhisattvas of the tenth level, this also serves to confirm the sectarian notion that Chan is superior to canonical Buddhism.[43] Poceski says:
A person daring to articulate any sort of meaningful criticism can simply be dismissed as being an unenlightened ignoramus whose mind is filled with shallow views and one-sided attachments. So much for intellectual freedom and the need to question established authority.[44]
According to Poceski, modern publications and popular Zen books tend to be confined to the same strictures and ideological suppositions as the classical sources.[45] A noteworthy element of modern interpretations of gong'an material is the tendency to stick uncritically to conventional lines of exegesis that fail to question normative traditions and the untenable assumptions underlying them.[46] This includes the idea that gong'an represent timeless truths that must be unlocked by dedicated Zen practice undertaken with proper spiritual guidance.[47] This harkens back to the issue of orthodoxy and authority, with the modern Zen master acting as gatekeeper of truth and prime arbiter of value and meaning.[48] In this way, ideological suppositions about gong'an are entwined with social relationships and institutional structures, as the main point is the establishment of a sense of orthodoxy and perpetuation of the religious institutions that safeguard it.[49] In regards to this state of affairs, Poceski asks:
However, was it not the case that Chan/Zen was supposed to take us in an entirely different direction, away from the familiar intersections of knowledge and power? Wasn't it supposed to blow away archaic ideological smokescreens and obliterate all forms of conceptual posturing, rather than conjure or shore them up? Perhaps not, or so it seems.[50]
Koans have also been criticized from within the Zen tradition at various points throughout history. The Song era master Foyan Qingyuan (1067-1120) rejected the use of koans (public cases) and similar stories, arguing that they did not exist during the time of Bodhidharma and that the true koan is "what is presently coming into being."[51] According to Schlütter, "the practice was common enough to attract criticism" which can be found in Song sources like the Sengbao zhengxu zhuan (True continuation of the chronicles of the saṃgha treasure), where one master called Chanti Weizhao "rails against deluded masters who teach people to contemplate (can) gongan stories."
According to Arthur Braverman, Bassui Tokushō (1327–1387) "was very critical of the Rinzai practice of studying kōans, perhaps because they were becoming more and more formalized, hence losing their original spirit."[52]
The unconventional Rinzai master Bankei Yōtaku (1622-1693) famously criticized the kōan method, seeing it as a hopelessly contrived and artificial technique.[53] Bankei referred to kōans disparagingly as "old wastepaper"[54] and referred to Zen masters who required devices in order to guide people as engaging in "devices Zen."[55] Bankei criticized the practice of rousing a "great ball of doubt" employed in koan Zen. He says:
"Others tell students pursuing this teaching that it's no good unless they rouse a great ball of doubt and succeed in breaking through it. 'No matter what,' they tell them, 'you've got to rouse a ball of doubt!' They don't teach, 'Abide in the Unborn Buddha Mind!' [but instead] cause people without any ball of doubt to saddle themselves with one, making them exchange the Buddha Mind for a ball of doubt. A mistaken business, isn't it!"[56]
When asked why he did not make use of koans, Bankei responded that Chan masters before Yuanwu and Dahui did not make use of koans either.[57] Bankei observed accurately that koan study represents a later development of Chinese Chan.[58] "In this sense," Peter Haskel writes, "Bankei was a traditionalist. He harked back to the Zen masters of the 'golden age' before the triumph of the koan, masters like Lin-chi I-hsüan (J: Rinzai Gigen, d. 860), founder of the Rinzai school."[59] Similarly, D.T. Suzuki writes, "Bankei can be said to have attempted a return to the Zen of the early T'ang dynasty."[60] Bankei said:
"Unlike the other masters everywhere, in my teaching I don't set up any particular object, such as realizing enlightenment or studying koans. Nor do I rely on the words of the buddhas and patriarchs. I just point things out directly, so there's nothing to hold onto, and that's why no one will readily accept [what I teach]."[61]
The Sōtō school emphasizes shikantaza as its main practice, though it does not completely reject the study and use of koans. That being said, some Sōtō figures have criticized the Rinzai style koan method. For example, the famous Sōtō master Kodo Sawaki criticized Rinzai koan practice as "stepladder Zen" and wrote:
From the end of the Song Dynasty to the Yuan [and] Ming dynasties techniques developed, and solving koans was the way monks became respected for having had satoris. Well, today [monks] have satoris, which in certain religious sects allows the monks to be candidates to be head priests of temples. That's the way they think. But they're wrong. Believe in zazen itself, and if you put your whole body into it, that is [true] zazen.[62]
The modern Korean Sŏn master Daehaeng taught that it was not necessary to receive a hwadu (the "word head" of a koan) from others since everyone already has their own "original hwadus." She says:
Daily life is itself a hwadu, so there is no need to receive a hwadu from others or to give a hwadu to others. Your very existence is a hwadu. Thus, if you are continuously holding on to a hwadu someone else gave you, when will you be able to solve your original hwadu? Trying to solve another person's hwadu is like turning empty millstones or spinning a car's wheels without moving forward. Your body itself is a hwadu. Birth itself is a hwadu. Work itself is a hwadu. The vast universe is a hwadu. If you want to add more hwadus to these, when will you be able to taste this infinitely deep world we live in?[63]
D.T. Suzuki observes that although the koan method represents a convenience for the Zen practitioner, a form of "grandmotherly kindness," it is also liable to tend towards formalization and counterfeit. He writes:
The danger lies in the tendency to formalization. It may happen that a petty thief crowing like a cock at dawn will get past the barrier by deceiving the gatekeeper into opening the gates. As a matter of fact, in the koan system such fellows do get past, or we should say rather that they are passed through. The danger that the goods will be sold cheap is something intrinsic to the system. In any construct devised by man a pattern always evolves. When the pattern becomes fixed, the quick of life cannot move within it. When the realm of true reality which is freed of samsaric suffering is treated in such a way that it comes to resemble the fixed gestures and patterned moves learned in a fencing class, Zen ceases to be Zen. At times patterns work well and are useful. And they do have the virtue of universal currency. But by that alone no living thing is produced. I suppose, though, there are some who even find enjoyment in such a counterfeit, lifeless thing, much as they would divert themselves with games of chess or mahjong.[64]
According to Alan Watts, the koan method suffered from two drawbacks. The first is that it can potentially lead to a kind of romanticism for exotic cultural forms.[65] The second was that its method of deliberately rousing great doubt and then breaking through it after an intense period of striving amounted to a kind of psychological trick. Regarding this, Watts says:
The second, and more serious, drawback can arise from the opposition of satori to the intense “feeling of doubt” which some koan exponents so deliberately encourage. For this is to foster a dualistic satori. To say that the depth of the satori is proportional to the intensity of seeking and striving which precede it is to confuse satori with its purely emotional adjuncts. In other words, if one wants to feel exhilaratingly light-footed, it is always possible to go around for some time with lead in one’s shoes–and then take them off. The sense of relief will certainly be proportional to the length of time such shoes have been worn, and to the weight of the lead. This is equivalent to the old trick of religious revivalists who give their followers a tremendous emotional uplift by first implanting an acute sense of sin, and then relieving it through faith in Jesus.[66]
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