What the Buddha Never Taught: Harm, Misogyny, and the Hypocrisy of Modern Buddhist Doctrine

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“Do not go by oral tradition, by lineage of teaching, by hearsay, by a collection of texts, by logical reasoning, by inferential reasoning, by reasoning based on appearances, by agreement through pondering views, by probability, nor by the thought ‘This contemplative is our teacher.’ When you yourselves know: ‘These things are unwholesome, blameworthy, criticized by the wise; when undertaken and observed, these things lead to harm and suffering’ ~ then you should abandon them.”
~ Kālāma Sutta, AN 3.65

I have followed the Tibetan/Tantric/Vajrayana Buddhist path for over thirty-five years. As a woman deeply committed to meditation and mindful living, I have embraced the Buddha’s teachings as a source of peace, compassion, and insight. Throughout this time, I have been fortunate to study under an utterly humble teacher whose guidance was free from control, coercion or abuse, a rarity in some contemporary Tibetan Buddhist circles. Yet, with time and reflection, I have come to realize that many modern interpretations of traditional Buddhist tenets, particularly within Tibetan Buddhism, contain elements that seem contradictory, ethically problematic, or improbable from a scientific and experiential perspective. I believe that these contradictions often clash with the Buddha’s original teachings of kindness, non-harming, and deep personal insight.

Please, this article is not a rejection of Buddhism, nor of meditation practices that have brought me and continue to bring me great solace. It is the most important treasure of my life. Instead, I offer an honest inquiry into how certain beliefs and institutional practices have hurt me and others deeply, and can perpetuate harm, silence, and confusion. From the literal belief in terrifying afterlife hell realms, fear based retribution for the breaking of vows, the improbable doctrine of literal rebirth and transmigration without a permanent self, to the moral loophole of outsourcing the killing of animals, and the elevation of human gurus to godlike status ~ these are challenges we must face with courage and open minds.

I also always remember the Buddha’s well-known invitation, even insistence, to not to accept anything blindly, but to investigate teachings through direct experience. Finally, I explore how modern Buddhist culturally influenced institutions sometimes depart from this spirit, enabling abuse and idolatry. I know that writing such an article can be misconstrued as an attempt to defame or destroy the dharma, but in contrast, these insights arose from many years of retreat practice and deep reflection, with a longing for the essence of the genuine, simple living dharma to flourish.

However, I believe that it cannot do so with human and cultural-tainted tenets and current doctrine and ethics. The Dharma, for me is not a closed system of unquestioning practice, orthodox logic, and blind worship, but an ever evolving, open system of evolution~ as we all change with culture, ethics, awareness, and deepen our understanding of meaning, human morality, and methods of deep liberation.

A Male-Dominated Tradition: Early Misogyny and the Marginalization of Women in Buddhist Tradition

Since its earliest days, Buddhism institutionalized gender bias. The Buddha deferred ordination for Mahāpajāpatī Gotamī~ his stepmother~ only after she and other women persisted. But even then, women had to follow eight extra rules (Garudhammas) that forever placed them in subordinate status compared to monks. I recall sadly hearing verses from early texts that labeled women inherently impure or more prone to passion. These teachings conveyed the message that enlightenment, while technically possible for women, was practically off-limits. Even today, despite full ordination in some traditions, these ancient prejudices still ripple through our institutions. I constantly feel this slight in my blog writings and treatment of certain male sangha acquaintances. This contradicts core Buddhist vows of karuna, simple kindness, ahiṃsā (non-harming), upekkhā (equanimity), and the Bodhisattva’s vow to liberate all beings without discrimination.

Here are the Eight Garudhammas as commonly listed: 

1. A nun, regardless of her years of ordination, must respectfully greet and show homage to a monk, even one newly ordained.
2. A nun is not permitted to spend the rainy season retreat in a place without monks.
3. Twice a month, a nun must request the date of the observance day and seek exhortation from the Order of Monks.
4. At the end of the rainy season, a nun must invite criticism from both monks and nuns regarding any observed, heard, or suspected misconduct.
5. A nun who commits a grave offense must undergo a specific disciplinary penance for half a month before both Orders.
6. A nun in training must train for two years in the six rules before seeking full ordination from both Orders.
7. A nun is prohibited from insulting or disparaging a monk.
8. Nuns are not allowed to reprimand monks, but monks may reprimand nuns. (Wikipedia)

Despite Buddhism’s reputation as a path of liberation and compassion, its historical relationship with women is fraught with systemic bias and exclusion. From the earliest days, the Buddha’s own community~ the Sangha~ was overwhelmingly male, and women faced significant barriers to ordination and spiritual recognition. Early Buddhist texts reflect views that regard women’s bodies as impure or inferior, and some canonical discourses suggest that women cannot attain full enlightenment without first being reborn as men.

For example, in the Vinaya Pitaka, the Buddha initially hesitated to ordain women, fearing it would shorten the lifespan of the Dharma. Though eventually permitting the establishment of the nun’s order, he also instituted the eight special rules that placed nuns under the authority of monks, thereby institutionalizing female subordination. Scholar Miranda Shaw notes in Buddhist Goddesses of India that these early injunctions laid the groundwork for centuries of continued gender inequality within monastic and lay Buddhist communities.

In my own experience as a woman meditator, I have witnessed how these traditional attitudes persist subtly or overtly. Even in progressive circles, women often find their voices minimized or their spiritual authority questioned. The implicit message~ that female bodies and minds are less capable of realizing Buddhahood~ contradicts the Buddha’s core teaching of universal potential for awakening and challenges the inclusive compassion Buddhism claims to uphold.

Reforming these attitudes requires more than institutional change; it demands cultural shifts toward gender equality, validation of women’s hearts, minds, wisdom and spiritual experiences, and dismantling patriarchal interpretations embedded in scripture and practice.

The Improbability of Transmigration and Rebirth Without a Permanent Self

Central to Buddhist doctrine is the teaching of anattā ~ no-self. This teaching reveals that the self, or soul, as a permanent, unchanging entity, does not exist. Instead, what we call “self” is a process, a collection of changing physical and mental aggregates. Yet Buddhism also holds the doctrine of rebirth or transmigration: that after death, beings are reborn in new forms, influenced by their karma. This apparent contradiction has been fodder for scholars and practitioners for centuries.

If there is no enduring self, what exactly is being reborn? Tibetan and other Buddhist traditions introduce the idea of an intermediate state, the antarābhava or bardo, a transitional continuity of consciousness between death and rebirth. Still, this does not resolve the philosophical and empirical problems. Buddhist philosophers critique the concept of rebirth based on the absence of memory continuity and the lack of a stable personal identity between lifetimes. The process appears logically incoherent when one analyzes the nature of selfhood and consciousness.

Through my own experience in meditation, I have noticed thoughts, sensations, and emotions arising and passing away without a permanent center observing them. The concept of a spirit or ghost-soul or self that transmigrates feels increasingly improbable. This insight challenges popular beliefs and has significant ethical implications. If we place faith in some unseen eternal karmic ledger spanning multiple lives, we might defer responsibility for ethical conduct in this life or feel fatalistic about present suffering.

In other words, religions often posit that there is some otherworldly eternal spiritual state that takes value or precedence over the impermanent “materiality” of our current life. These views are not empirically proven and in religious extremism can be dangerous. I have many dharma friends that forgo “getting embroiled” in this life and renounce the world and attachments in favor of some quantitative spiritual attainment and/or investment. If there in fact is no continuity of self, then, what a sad loss of a renounced single precious life, with no real proof or guarantee of any continuation.

I was on a long silent meditation retreat, and I once had an experience, a little bit like the movie the Matrix, where everything, my form, space and all objects could be seen as similarly made out of oscillating elements of light. There was no real beginning or ending, a little bit like a colorful oscillating and yet empty-ness. So I don’t think the issue is really a matter of whether or not we transmigrate, I think there’s a problem with the question. If you understand substantially what matter and form and your body and everything you see around you is, the question of whether or not we transmigrate falls away into a gnostic, meditative understanding, just as the Buddha instructed.

The Buddha himself emphasized this direct experiential investigation over blind belief. In many sutras, he urged his followers to test teachings against their own experience and reason. The karma and rebirth doctrine is profound and compelling, but requires careful scrutiny to avoid confusion or wrong views.

The Existence of Hell and the Eight Hot and Cold Hells: Metaphor or Reality?

One of the most vivid and often troubling parts of traditional Buddhist cosmology is the depiction of hell realms. Tibetan Buddhist texts, such as the Lamrim and commentaries on the Abhidharma, describe eight intensely hot hells and eight deeply cold hells. These realms are said to be places of unimaginable suffering, similar to orthodox fire-and-brimstone Christianity ~ burning flesh, freezing cold that shatters bones, crushing agony that lasts for eons. This imagery serves as a stark warning against negative karma and unwholesome actions, and evokes terror in the sangha.

Most Buddhists literately believe that beings can be reborn in one of these 16 hells, and then there is one formless hell and one partially pernicious one, reserved for Vajrayana practitioners called Vajra Hell, for those who commit the most heinous crimes and break their tantric precepts. We have then 18 hells in total! Please consider this before you leave a punitive orthodox Abrahamic religion for something more progressive- we actually have more ways that the universe can punish you, even with the absence of an unseen God.

As I was slowly groomed to adopt these teachings since my teen years as unquestioning fact, I contemplated these hells and the existential punishments from breaking our vows with abject fear and a sense of self doubt. I even had to seek support to de-indoctrinate with religious trauma therapists and joined a support group of people called Recovering from Religion.

Thankfully, as my practice deepened and matured, I began to question the literal existence of such places, and understand now that virtually all religions use the fear of hell and the afterlife as a social control mechanism, and one of my teachers confirmed this to be true. The great contemporary scholar Stephen Batchelor, who has studied and practiced Buddhism extensively, argues in his book Living with the Devil that these hell realms are best understood as metaphors for intense mental and emotional states such as anger, hatred, and despair, rather than places your consciousness will be reborn in as retribution. Similarly, Peter Harvey, in An Introduction to Buddhism, highlights that these realms lack empirical evidence and may have been symbolic tools used to convey the severity of negative mental states rather than actual physical locations.

My own meditative experience supports this view. During my life I have observed the arising of painful obstacles that felt tormentive~ like me almost dying from Covid and residual health issues that seem to resonate with the traditional hell descriptions. Yet these sensations are clearly states of mind, impermanent and transformable. Accepting the hells as external realities can foster fear, guilt, and fatalism, and suppress critical thinking, rather than compassion and awakening.

Moreover, clinging to such beliefs risks contradicting the Buddha’s vow of non-harming by instilling terror rather than loving-kindness. While traditional cosmology remains deeply embedded in Buddhist practice and art, it is vital to remember that Buddhism’s core teaching encourages personal insight over dogmatic belief. The hell realms serve as a powerful metaphor, but literal interpretations can obscure the deeper path of freedom from suffering.

The Carnivore Loophole: Outsourcing Karma and Moral Responsibility

One ethical tension that has always troubled me concerns the traditional Buddhist stance on eating meat, particularly in Tibetan Buddhism. The Vinaya and Tibetan texts teach the “three-hands rule” which allows monks to eat meat if they have not seen, heard, or suspected that the animal was killed specifically for them- three hands away- killing, preparing and serving. In practice, this often means adherents purchase meat slaughtered by non-Buddhist butchers and avoid direct involvement in killing.

At first glance, this seems like a pragmatic concession in regions where vegetarian options are scarce. However, this arrangement creates a moral loophole. By outsourcing the act of killing to others, Buddhist practitioners evade direct karmic responsibility for the suffering caused. Lama Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdrol, an eighteenth-century Tibetan yogi and writer, sharply criticized this behavior. He described monks consuming the flesh of beings who “were once our mothers” with “gaping mouths” ~ highlighting the dissonance between professed compassion and actual behavior.

In recent years, contemporary Buddhist leaders, including His Holiness the 17th Karmapa Orgyen Trinley Dorje, have advocated vegetarianism as an ethical ideal reflecting true compassion and non-harming. This shift aligns more closely with the core Buddhist precept of ahiṃsā, or non-violence, and the Bodhisattva vow to alleviate suffering wherever possible. Yet many communities still rely on the “meat loophole,” demonstrating how cultural, environmental, and economic factors complicate ethical purity.

As a practitioner who honors the sanctity of life and the ecosystem, I find this doctrine deeply troubling. It creates a spiritual justification for harm and transfers the karmic “burden” onto others ~ often those least able to resist or question the system. I know plenty of dharma practitioners and teachers that consume meat and fish, and I find it hypocritical that they believe that they are absolved from karma if they didn’t directly take the life. True mindfulness demands that we face our complicity directly, questioning traditions that allow ethical evasion.

Reportedly, early native Americans would hunt ethically using bows and arrows, and when they came to collect the animal, they would kneel in front of the face and gently whisper to the animal “I am sorry, and thank you.” I’m not sure if that story is true, but I appreciate the gesture of us having concrete direct culpability for taking lives rather than outsourcing that karma to others, or hiding it in sterile cellophane and styrofoam. When we fail to be honest with ourselves, and take accountability, we betray the Buddha’s original compassion and invite hypocrisy into our spiritual practice.

The Samaya Vow and the Silencing of Women: Abuse and Accountability in Tibetan Buddhism

Tibetan Buddhism developed a unique system of spiritual authority centered on the figure of the lama, or guru, regarded in some lineages as a living Buddha equated with no less than a deity. While devotion to teachers is a common element across Buddhist traditions, Tibetan Buddhism’s system institutionalized this veneration to an extreme degree.

This has created unattainable standards of morality that lead to significant controversies and scandals in recent decades, particularly involving sexual misconduct, abuse of power, and cover-ups. Oftentimes when the teacher gets exposed for impropriety, he then claims to “be only human” and asks his community for understanding and forgiveness after we’ve been groomed to perceive them as actual omniscient divinity.

One of the most troubling contemporary issues in Tibetan Buddhism involves the misuse of this samaya vow. This is a tantric vow that represents a sacred commitment between disciple and guru, when a disciple receives an empowerment. This vow can be misconstrued with demanding unwavering loyalty and secrecy. Violating samaya is often portrayed as causing grave spiritual harm, including punishment in the so-called Vajra hell.

While intended to preserve the integrity of Vajrayāna practice, samaya can become a tool of oppression. Women and other practitioners who speak out with broken hearts against sexual misconduct, child abuse, or doctrinal injustices frequently face accusations of “breaking samaya,” leading to ostracization, shunning, demonizing or worse. This dynamic discourages transparency and accountability, allowing abusive lamas and power structures to persist unchecked. The tradition “dharmasplains” abuse by saying that these divine teachers are implementing something called “crazy wisdom,” which is often simply abuse masked as eccentricity. This is not the Buddhist dharma, or any dharma.

Reports of abuse have surfaced worldwide involving prominent Tibetan Buddhist figures. The Shambhala and Sogyal Rinpoche scandals exposed how institutional power and unquestioning reverence enabled decades of exploitation. Investigations by independent journalists and organizations like Buddhist Project Sunshine have documented the devastating impact on victims and the resistance from traditional power structures.

This authoritarian misuse of the samaya vow stands in stark contrast to the Buddha’s teachings, which emphasize compassion, transparency, and personal ethical responsibility. The Buddha encouraged critical inquiry and warned against blind faith. It is deeply painful for practitioners like myself to witness the betrayal of Dharma principles through institutionalized silence and power abuse. To heal, Tibetan Buddhism must confront these issues openly and embrace reform grounded in the Buddha’s original spirit.

The Buddha emphasized confession, remorse, and ethical correction~ called the four powers of purification~ as central to spiritual progress. Enforcing silence under the guise of samaya is neither compassionate nor authentically Buddhist. It betrays the Dharma and harms vulnerable practitioners.

For women in particular, this means navigating spiritual paths that can sometimes be hostile or dismissive of their experiences. Meaningful reform requires dismantling hierarchical abuses, fostering open dialogue, and centering victim voices in healing and justice. I pray that someday, we are able to evolve to rudimentary genuine ethics and adult accountability.

The Buddha’s Intentions: No Religion, No Idolatry, Only Direct Experience

One of the most profound realizations that emerged in my long practice is that the historical Buddha likely never intended Buddhism to become a religion marked by dogma, idolatry, or institutional control. Early archaeological evidence and textual studies reveal that for centuries after his passing, Buddhists did not create images of the Buddha himself. I always say he was the original iconoclast. Instead, symbols such as the Bodhi tree, an empty throne, or the Buddha’s footprints were used to represent his presence and awakening.

Donald S. Lopez Jr., a leading scholar on Buddhist art and history, notes in The Story of Buddhism that aniconism~ the absence of human images~ characterized the earliest Buddhist art. It was only several centuries later, around the first century CE, that statues of the Buddha in human form began to appear, especially under the influence of Greco-Roman art in Gandhara. This evolution marked a disheartening shift from a teaching aimed at personal liberation through insight toward one involving reverence, worship, and iconography.

This transformation deeply affects Buddhist practice today. The giant golden gilded Buddha statues that fill temples around the world, the ritual prostrations, and the unquestioning devotion to these images sometimes overshadow the original invitation to see the simple, living Dharma directly and liberate oneself from suffering. The Buddha himself urged followers to test teachings through their own experience, not to accept them because of veneration or tradition.

Understanding this historical context reminds me to focus my practice on calming meditation and ethical living rather than idol worship. It challenges our institutions to re-center on experiential wisdom over elaborate ceremonies and reinforces the Buddha’s foundational call to direct personal awakening.

The Late Compilation of Buddhist Scriptures and the Risk of Political Influence

The Buddha reportedly insisted that his followers not write down his teachings as religious doctrine. Another layer of complexity arises from the fact that the Buddha’s teachings were transmitted orally for approximately three hundred years before being written down. The earliest texts, such as the Pāli Canon, were committed to writing in Sri Lanka around the first century BCE. Tibetan Buddhist texts were compiled and translated even later.

This long oral tradition allowed for variability, reinterpretation, and potential alterations influenced by social, political, and institutional needs. Think of the game “telephone” and imagine how what he actually said may have been changed in 300 years! Scholars emphasize that the oldest texts likely reflect core teachings, but the vast corpus of Mahāyāna and Vajrayāna literature developed over centuries, sometimes incorporating local beliefs, political agendas, and philosophical innovations that might depart from the original message. Therefore, anyone that prides themselves on following the original tenets of the Buddha in an orthodox way~ it’s very possible that our current understanding of all of these Buddhist volumes of the Kanjur and Tanjur might not have been what was originally spoken or intended.

For example, similar to Christianity, Buddhism’s institutional power was historically linked to kingship, royalty and political control, which shaped its hierarchical structures and doctrinal developments. Some modern critics argue that elements of the “orthodox” Buddhist canons may have been shaped to legitimize theocratic rule and consolidate authority.

As a practitioner, this historical perspective invites critical thinking. It encourages questioning of which parts of our tradition genuinely serve liberation and which may reinforce control, male domination and exclusivity. Adherents must consider Buddha’s explicit and firm advice not to treat his words as doctrine but to examine and verify them personally. I have lived by vetting every syllable of doctrine with my own meditation experience, and if something seems harmful, improbable or indeed abusive, I don’t consider that any method of liberation.

Questioning Doctrine: The Buddha’s Invitation and the Danger of Blind Faith

Throughout my meditation journey, I have returned time and again to the Buddha’s radical instruction not to accept anything on faith alone. In the famous Kalama Sutra, he advises the Kalamas~ his skeptical listeners~ to avoid blind allegiance to scripture, tradition, hearsay, or even his own words. Instead, he encourages examination, personal experience, and verification as the path to truth.

“Be a lamp unto yourselves,
be your own island,
take refuge in yourselves,
with no other refuge.”

Attadīpā viharatha, attasaraṇā anaññasaraṇā

Mahāparinibbāna Sutra

Yet, modern Buddhist institutions sometimes erect rigid doctrinal boundaries that discourage critical thinking and dissent. Particularly within Tibetan Vajrayāna practice, questioning a Lama’s teachings or behavior can lead to accusations of “breaking samaya,” spiritual exile, or social ostracism. This culture of unquestioning loyalty may protect institutional power but risks silencing victims and blocking reform. Such dogmatism stands in stark contrast to the Buddha’s spirit of rigorous self inquiry and compassion. It undermines the ethical precepts of non-harming and right speech by fostering fear and silence.

When teachings become untouchable, practitioners may feel trapped between personal conscience and communal pressure.

For women in particular, this environment can be oppressive, especially when combined with misogynistic interpretations of doctrine and abuses of power. The path forward requires cultivating communities that honor the Buddha’s call for wisdom and kindness~ spaces where doubt is embraced as part of growth and where justice is prioritized over hierarchy, and unhealthy suppression.

Abortion, and Buddhist Ethics: A Gendered Blind Spot

The Buddhist approach to abortion remains deeply controversial and often harshly judgmental, particularly in conservative or traditional religious communities. While the first precept encourages non-harming, interpretations regarding the moral status of a fetus vary widely. Many classical texts condemn abortion as a serious karmic offense, equating it to murder with rebirth consequences in lower realms such as hell; and of course, the retribution and hell punishment is reserved for women exclusively. The texts say that life begins at conception, so that would then include conceived embryos that are used in stem cell research/IVF and the use of certain birth control devices that prevent the implantation of embryos. All intentional loss of conceived life would be, in the eyes of modern orthodox doctrine, murder.

Online discussions, such as those on Reddit’s Buddhism forum and academic commentaries, reveal that even some progressive Western Buddhists adopt strict anti-abortion stances without nuanced consideration of women’s suffering, socioeconomic factors, or coercion. Women who have had abortions frequently face spiritual guilt, stigma, and social exclusion, while fathers, partners, or rapists rarely receive similar moral scrutiny.

This disparity reflects enduring misogyny within Buddhist ethics. The burden of reproductive “sin” is placed almost entirely on women, echoing wider cultural patterns of controlling female bodies and agency. Tibetan Buddhist perspectives often amplify this through ritualized condemnation and fear of karmic retribution, with little compassion for the complex realities women face. If we really belong to a tradition that emphasized non-harming, then I believe that’s we would not want to force a woman to give birth to a child that was unwanted, one that she could not properly care for, and for that child to live a life unsupported.

Scholars and activists argue, for a sorely lacking, compassionate, context-sensitive approach that recognizes women’s rights, suffering, and autonomy. This includes re-examining and modernizing scriptural sources with feminist principles and advocating for ethical frameworks centered on care rather than punishment, and indeed, archaic and obtuse, conservative threats of literal hell. We are not progressing, but rather, constantly translating and encoding deprecated doctrine, against the Buddha’s explicit wishes.

Child Sexual Abuse: Institutional Betrayal in Monastic Communities

Just Google “child sexual abuse in Buddhism.” Many investigative reports~ from Tricycle to Buddhist Project Sunshine~ have exposed horrifying, hypocritical cases of child sexual abuse in Buddhist affiliated monasteries and western lay communities. Some “celibate” survivors have become perpetrators themselves and grow up to perpetuate a structurally violent organization, sealed by secrecy, and forced religious zealotry. Community structures that emphasize lineage purity and male authority create environments ripe for grooming and cover-up. Thankfully, there have been recent legal charges against perpetrators of child abuse, and we can only hope to continue awareness. With hope, discussion and transparency can someday protect children within these organizations.

Even more disturbing is how hierarchical silence ~ from samaya or cultural deference ~ prevents transparency, thereby perpetuating cycles of abuse. These outcomes destroy lives, harm entire sanghas, and betray the Buddha’s foundational principle to protect the innocent and vulnerable.

As a Buddhist, mother, and activist for human rights, this reality fills me with inconsolable heartbreak and rage. The insidious betrayal is compounded when abusers hide behind trusted robes and ritual, using the Dharma as a shield. In fact, some of our “secret” scriptures actually endorse and encourage pedophilia! These actions strike at our collective soul and violate the most basic Buddhist ethics of protecting all beings, particularly the weak and innocent.

Anyone that would abuse a child, I actually would wish there was some type of permanent hell of retribution, but since I have no empirical proof of such an afterlife place, all we can rely on is our consensual ability to acknowledge reality, have transparency, be accountable and use the legal systems to protect children and hopefully an eventually someday… change.

A Vision Toward a More Compassionate and Conscious Buddhism

After more than three decades of committed practice, study, and reflection, I have come to understand that Buddhism~ like all living traditions~ is complex and imperfect. The original Buddha’s message was radical in its call to liberation through direct experience, ethical living, and the development of compassion. Yet much of what we now call “Buddhism,” especially within institutional and cultural contexts, includes teachings and selfish, harmful and exploitative practices that conflict with those ideals. From literal belief in hell realms and the doctrine of rebirth without a permanent self, to moral evasions such as outsourcing killing, to hierarchical systems that suppress questioning and enable abuse of animals, vulnerable women, children and unquestioning indoctrinated students, the tradition contains both profound heartfelt wisdom and serious flaws.

Recognizing these contradictions does not mean abandoning the Dharma. On the contrary, it invites deeper engagement with the Buddha’s foundational injunction: do not accept teachings blindly, but investigate for yourself. This process requires courage, open mindedness, humility, and a willingness to challenge orthodoxies that may serve dated feudal power more than liberation. It also calls for an inclusive, compassionate Buddhism that honors the experiences and voices of women, survivors of abuse, and marginalized communities.

Importantly, the Buddha never intended Buddhism to become a religion based on idolatry, rigid dogma, or unquestioning devotion. Early Buddhism avoided images of the Buddha, favoring symbols like footprints and the Bodhi tree to represent internal awakening, not worship of an avatar. It was a path of inner transformation accessible to all, not a cult of personality or a vehicle for political control. Returning to this spirit is essential in addressing the abuses and hypocrisies that have crept into modern practice.

As a woman practitioner, I hold hope for a Buddhism that can reform, heal, and truly embody its ethical and compassionate roots. I respect and care for all of my friends and teachers, without exception, and would shun no one, but we must be accountable for hurt and harm. There are no doctrinal justifications for abuse. Meditation, mindfulness, and ethical precepts remain invaluable tools for personal and social transformation. Yet they must be accompanied by critical awareness, transparency, and a commitment to human truisms of justice. Only then can Buddhism fulfill its promise as a path free from harm, dogma, and exclusion. May it be so, and indeed, may the genuine dharma flourish, just as the Buddha originally intended.

 

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Suggested Further Reading and Resources

1. Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdrol, Food for Bodhisattvas (translated excerpts).
2. Tricycle Magazine,
* “What Went Wrong? Sexual Abuse in Tibetan Buddhism”
* Articles on vegetarianism
* “When Gurus Go Bad: Sexual Misconduct in Tibetan Buddhism”
* Articles on power, abuse, and reform in Tibetan Buddhism
* Tricycle Magazine Website
3. His Holiness the 17th Karmapa, Statements advocating vegetarianism, available on official Karmapa websites.
4. Peter Harvey, An Introduction to Buddhism, especially sections on ethics and animal life.
5. Buddhist Project Sunshine, Reports and survivor testimonies Buddhist Project Sunshine Website
6. Lion’s Roar,
* Articles on samaya, guru devotion, and reform movements
* Articles on Buddhist Feminism
* Articles on power, abuse, and ethical accountability
* Lion’s Roar Website
7. Donald S. Lopez Jr.,
* The Scientific Buddha: His Short and Happy Life
* The Story of Buddhism: A Concise Guide to its History & Teachings (HarperOne, 2001)
* Prisoners of Shangri-La: Tibetan Buddhism and the West (University of Chicago Press, 1998)
* Buddhism and Science: A Guide for the Perplexed (University of Chicago Press, 2008)
* The Scientific Buddha (2012)
8. Aniconism entry, Encyclopaedia Britannica.
9. Early Buddhist Art Studies, from the British Museum and the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
10. Kalama Sutta (AN 3.65), A foundational text urging critical examination, available on SuttaCentral.net
11. Richard Gombrich, How Buddhism Began: The Conditioned Genesis of the Early Teachings (Routledge, 1996).
12. Whitley Kaufman, “The Problem of Rebirth in Buddhist Philosophy,” Philosophy East and West (2006).
13. Rupert Gethin, The Foundations of Buddhism (Oxford University Press, 1998).
14. Rebirth entry, Encyclopedia of Buddhism, Macmillan Reference, 2004.
15. Robert E. Buswell Jr. & Donald S. Lopez Jr., The Princeton Dictionary of Buddhism (Princeton University Press, 2013).
16. The History of Buddhist Thought by Richard H. Robinson and Willard L. Johnson (discussions on oral transmission and compilation).
17. Stephen Batchelor,
* Buddhism Without Beliefs: A Contemporary Guide to Awakening
* Living with the Devil: A Meditation on Good and Evil (Wisdom Publications, 2005).
18. Rita M. Gross, Buddhism After Patriarchy: A Feminist History, Analysis, and Reconstruction of Buddhism.
19. SuttaCentral translations of the Devaduta Sutta and related cosmological discourses, available at SuttaCentral.net.
20. Jennifer Knust, Abortion and the Christian Traditions for comparative religious ethical insight.
21. Alexander Berzin, “Buddhist Views on Abortion,” study available at StudyBuddhism.com.
22. Shaw, Miranda, Buddhist Goddesses of India (Princeton University Press, 2006).
23. Vinaya Pitaka, Cullavagga section on the Eight Garudhammas.
24. Reddit Buddhism Forum Discussion, “What is the Buddhist view on abortion?” Reddit Thread

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All concepts, views and editing and personal experiences by Dawn Boiani, with supporting web references, citations and grammatical formatting with the assistance of Chat GPT-4o. Please notify author with any errors, omissions, formatting or copyright issues.