Features

Sri Lanka’s Dry Zone; a Misnomer, and its repercussions

Published

3 years ago

2023/01/6

Thilina Walpola

By Dr. J. Handawela
jameshandawela@gmail.com

Background

Since Independence the key development policy pursued by the Lankan government has been large scale irrigated paddy farming in the Dry zone (DZ), in the hope of ushering in the same prosperity of its past, particularly the Parakramabahu era (1153-1186). Perakum Yugayak Nevathath Arambaw was a widely flown rhetoric. However, even by about 1985, when the much banked on mighty Mahaweli irrigation project was almost complete, there were no clear signs of the expecte prosperity ever dawning, prompting some citizens to feel skeptical about the whole approach followed to develop the DZ, and thereby the country. I am one of them and see the reason for it as the authorities considering the DZ as being plagued by dryness, farming there requiring additional water as an external input.

In 1994, after leaving formal employment bound to the government, opportunities came on my way to gain a clearer understanding of the DZ’s climate, particularly its implications on agriculture on DZ land. These opportunities, experienced for the first time in my career life as a student of soil science, took me into remote parts of the DZ, spared by the bulldozer that had ripped off DZ’s land to launch major paddy irrigation schemes in all peripheral DZ districts. There, I could see signs of a range of traditional land development measures applied to enable farming, both in a ruined state and in live form. Where it was live, I saw the environment and life there being pleasantly close to nature and safe and sound unlike in major paddy irrigation project lands I had been long accustomed to.

Excitement caused by seeing them evoked an interest in me to seek authentic knowledge on social and farming history of DZ, over and above genuine praise showered on it by local senior farmers. I read Mahawansa and writings of R.L. Brohier, Robert Knox, Leonard Woolf, Emerson Tennent , D L O Mendis, M.S. Randhawa etc., all for the first time in my life, deeply regretting not having read them before.

Following is a gist of what I learned, much of which newly.

Traditional DZ farming has been heavily reliant on local rainfall, received during the main rainy season from October to December and the minor one in April. It has been a highly successful habitat development and farming enterprise.

It has been crucial for it to commence with the onset of rain in October, not only because it broke the four month long rainless weather but also to benefit from the atmospheric character in October over the area which is highly favourable for seed germination and plant growth. The latter reason is implicit in the Sinhala term for October, Vap, which means (time for) seed sowing. Of the two types of crop fields the farmers had: upland Hena and lowland paddy plot, where the farmers first rushed to with the onset of rain was the former for obvious reasons, letting the latter wait until it had also received some runoff and seepage water from adjacent upland and become fully water secure for a crop of paddy.

Though much welcome, the seasonal rain is often too harsh for direct use, as it is, for cropping. Its high intensity causing soil erosion and heavy rains falling over two to three straight days causing flood need to be addressed, and the impacts mitigated and overcome. For that the farmers had chosen individual small watersheds which offered a suitable land base to confront rain, tame its harshness and harness its water for farming, all within their confines. This enabled hazard free farming when it rained and where it rained, without having to forego early rainy time from the cropping calendar or to provide for undue storage and transmission (water) losses we hear of in conventional irrigation.

Specific rain water management measures applied within small watersheds are earthen bunds falling into four types: (1) slender long strips of bund (Wetiya) on the upper aspects of the watershed to delay runoff build-up and slow down runoff flow rate, (2) gulley plugs across transient stream channels to hold up water as water holes ( Wala), (3) further down the stream channel, bunds to hold relatively larger volumes of water Wila and at the very bottom of the small watershed, a larger and stronger bund to hold even more water, both on land surface and in the ground around and beneath it Wewa. All four devices have provision for surplus water to flow out, without hurting the bunds.

Worth reiterating, the unique land layout of the small watershed provides the ideal physical landscape structure to apply the above mentioned measures to delay runoff initiation, slow down runoff flow, check soil erosion and give more time for water to seep into the soil and the ground below, particularly in association with Wewa. They enable commencing upland cropping with early rains, growing of crops fully relying on local rainwater, and equally importantly, generating a ground water resource from rain water.

Crop production could be extended beyond October-December rainy season by choosing crops adapted to lower soil moisture conditions. In some years, it could extend to link up with shorter duration April rains, enabling a cropping period of about eight months. Farmers grew a variety of crops producing a basket of food staples (not only rice) for year round use. The ground water resource generated saw them through the rain water scarce months June-September. All these, thanks to judicious management of rain water, on time and in-situ.

Above observations point to the realization that the wet seasons, October- December and April deserve full credit as characterizing the climate of the DZ, adding value to it and making their beneficial effects felt through the whole climatic year: crops from October- May and ground water, year round.

What matters most is the wisdom the ancient farmers had to understanding that the DZ was wet, at least adequately and not full scale dry. Perhaps it is this wisdom that had brought prosperity to the area, at a time when irrigated paddy farming was little known, prior to initiation of Rajarata kingdom, as reported by archaeaologists Roland Silva and Shiran Deraniyagala ,separately.

Look at the successful farming enterprise in Jaffna, which is even less wet than the inland DZ but manages with local rain, with no need for extraneous water. The reason behind is natural shallow aquifers, which store surplus rain water as a ready source of water for farmer use during the dry months. This makes Jaffna not lament over dryness but appreciate and enjoy its wetness. Ancient DZ farmers, whose soil was less porous to take in rain water and had no natural aquifers, had overcome those limitations by giving more time for rain water to seep into their soil of low porosity and creating an artificial ground water storage facility in association with Wewa in the farmed small watershed.

By the way the term Wewa, being a derivative from “Wapi” – Sanskrit term for water- well, is not a spring or a source of water for flood irrigating a downstream crop as many of us take it to be. It in Sri Lanka is a well of some sort that has created its own ground water support base. In Gujarat, India where the very term Wew is in use, it refers to large wells dug into deep ground water, and they are for community use and habitat enrichment and categorically not for irrigation.

What is stated above is an ideal transcending from my personal experience and observations on a topic of interest and concern to me. Key inferences possible from it are that the climate of DZ is more wet than dry, the ancient farmers saw it in correct perspective and made a success of it, but the modern DZ developers have caught the wrong end of the stick. I want to share these thoughts with like minded researchers with a view to reassessing our current knowledge and understanding of DZ’s climate and its bearing on farming on its land. Emphasize that this is not a simple matter to shrug off but to be concerned with as a real issue with serious repercussions.

DZ ; a misnomer

For an area to be called dry its potential evapotranspiration over the year must exceed annual average rainfall. On this account the Sri Lanka’s DZ is not dry. Though not as wet as the Wet Zone, its annual average rainfall of about 1500 mm is only 25% less than the lower end annual rainfall figure for the Wet Zone, making it 75% as wet as the latter, and hence not its exact opposite.

This rain, though somewhat limited to four months, October – December and April, its residual effect is long lasting rendering the whole period from October to May quite wet during which its evergreen natural vegetation, symbolic of wet environments, not showing any major sign of withering. This leaves only four months June- September with a semblance of dryness.

DZ’s relief with soft contours shows that what has shaped its terrain is wetness and not dryness. In dry environments the contours are rugged.

Common climate related hazards in the area are soil erosion by runoff and damage to crop, property and even death by drowning by flooding, all of them problems associated with wet environments. Drought related incidents like forest fires, heat waves, death from desiccation etc. are very rare.

Most visitors to Sri Lanka see it as a green island. They would not say so if they saw two thirds of its land which make up the DZ as dry.All these point to DZ’s climate being more wet than dry, with the wet months October-December showing up as its most characteristic and hence the climate defining season, affirming that the term DZ is a misnomer for the area referred to by it.

Repercussions

The modern developers, who chose to focus on DZ’s dryness which is a mere negativity – deficiency of water – as its diagnostic character and the key limitation to its development over its wetness, which is a positivity – abundance of much desired water, though fraught with risks which however could be overcome by judicious management as discussed above – may not have foreseen its serious repercussions. The more serious of them are;

Spurning of DZ’s wetness-reliant traditional farming, which is a unique system of indigenously evolved watershed farming as being primitive, destructive on forest etc. denying it policy support and access to new scientific knowledge on modern farming has led to its degeneration and extinction with no prospect for its survival. This is a clear case of elimination and eradication of a valued heritage.

A key component of the above system of farming is Hena farming, It has been singled out and unjustifiably blacklisted as being utterly destructive on forest, more strictly subjected to severely restrictive regulations against its practice. Dereliction of such a farming system, that is so well adapted to the DZ environment and when wisely practiced is not only productive but also supportive of local ecology can lead to its extinction.

Overemphasis on dryness focused farming has led to excessive forest clearing to make provision for accumulation and application of water as an external farm input has also led to supply shortages of local timber, locally grown non-rice foods, rapid decline in forest cover, worsening human- elephant conflict etc.

Most farmers provided with water for free as an external input too fall into the category of state subsidy dependent population, casting doubts as to whether they are net producers relative to heavy investment made on them and ecosystem sacrificed to support them. Statistical records show that contribution made to GDP from districts where such farming is widespread is very low.

In the DZ drainage system, primary valleys are the source points of stream water. When their wet weather hydrology is properly managed for wetness-reliant farming, downstream flooding gets mitigated. This helps downstream land use. Modern management measures designed on the basis that the DZ is dry consider upstream small watersheds as unworthy of management and best left as mere catchments to extract water, without involving them even as stakeholders in rain water harnessing. Its repercussions are increased downstream flood hazard during rain and worsened water scarcity during dry weather, particularly in drier years.

Modern dryness-focused farming need time to accumulate and store runoff water in reservoirs, during which farming is not possible. Farming time thus lost is the month of October, which amounts to the most favourable time for crop establishment (Vap) being lost to farming, utter loss of once in a year opportunity.

All these repercussions are due to trying to adapt to dryness, to fill a deficiency gap, to eliminate a negativity. Instead, if the effort had been directed to dwelling on the main rainy season, banking on its positivities: abundance of water, favourable atmospheric character in October for crop establishment, they may have been avoided. Whether the culprit behind this mishap is the term DZ warrants attention.

Recently UN Climatologists Have come out with a clear assertion, that of the two extreme climatic incidents, namely drought and flood, experienced in a given environment, what really needs to be overcome is flood hazard while drought is a problem that could and should be endured instead of struggling to deal with it. It appears that the ancient DZ farmers had followed it centuries ago.

Conclusion

In conclusion let me present a relevant case study extracted from a newspaper article. Thanthirimale in Anuradhapura district has been a traditional farming village where local rain had been well utilized for farming. It had a system of well managed upstream watersheds and a downstream Wewa, and paddy lands below it. This was modernized in 1950s, by letting the upstream watersheds go into abandonment to merely serve/sub-serve as unmanaged water catchment area for the downstream Wewa, which was widened and capacity increased to provide irrigation water to an expanded paddy acreage below it, now not mainly for the customary Maha season but also for the Yala season as well (hopefully).

A knowledgeable senior farmer there says that prior to modernization the community there raised a variety of crops with rain, had adequate food and enough of forest products including timber, seldom faced floods or drinking water scarcity. After modernization, food production got limited to paddy farming below the Wewa, flooding became more frequent and intense because the upstream area had no control over its runoff water. Water stress during dry months, particularly in less wet years, became more acute because all land upstream of the Wewa no longer subscribed to local ground water resource development.

He says the current system that focuses on mitigating (a seeming) drought is less effective than the traditional system which made the most out of the wetness of the rainy season by slowing down water loss as runoff, mitigating local flooding, commencing cropping at the very beginning (Vap) of the rainy season and continued even beyond the rainy season, and saving a share of water as ground water in every small watershed in and around their Wew. In addition it mitigated downstream flooding during times of very high rainfall and also enabled a better dry weather base flow in the stream that left the area.Therefore, it appears that the term DZ has given a distorted meaning to the climate of the so called DZ and misled the modern day DZ developers. An issue that deserves scientific attention.

(The author has been a researcher attached to the Department of Agriculture from 1968-1994 and thereafter an independent researcher. Holds B.Sc (Agriculture) degree from Peradeniya University and Ph.D. (Agriculture) from Kyoto University, Japan.)

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Features

Is power devolution under JVP-NPP a political daydream?

Published

3 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

Former President Chandrika Kumaratunga

The JVP General Secretary Tilvin Silva’s recent remarks at a news conference in Jaffna where he ruled out the possibility of holding provincial council elections this year has been widely reported and widely criticized. About the same time there was another media event in Jaffna that went largely unnoticed and unreported outside Jaffna. What was said at the second media event may carry far more political implications than Tilvin Silva’s election timing talk. A veteran Tamil political participant made the startling yet not implausible statement that the prospect of having political devolution under the JVP-NPP government is becoming “a daydream”. The statement was made by Dr. K. Vigneswaran, who served as Provincial Secretary to the only North-East Provincial Council Government that was elected under the auspices of the Thirteenth Amendment.

Dr. Vigneswaran is a Professional Civil Engineer who studied at Royal College, graduated with First Class Honours in Engineering in 1964, and went on to complete a pioneering PhD at the university of Waterloo, Canada, applying the finite element method (FEM) in the field of Geotechnical Engineering. His engineering career has always been at the Irrigation Department where he rose to a Deputy Director. That was when the department was in its golden years, and Vigneswaran was known for his technical mentorship, meticulous administrative skills, and for knowing the fine print of everything. While at the Irrigation Department, Vigneswaran married Ramya de Silva, a fellow irrigation Engineer. After 1983, Vigneswaran became a fulltime political activist and a powerful resource in Tamil politics, but with unwavering commitment to nonviolence, democracy and federalism. The family moved first to India and then Canada, and Vigneswaran has been shuttling between Canada and Sri Lanka.

Devolution: Tortuous Trajectory

Since 1987, the Indo-Sri Lanka Agreement, and the 13th Amendment, Vigneswaran has been a permanent fixture in all the politics and institutional dynamic of implementing 13A and establishing provincial councils. He served as Secretary to the only elected Provincial Government for the Northern and Eastern Provinces. After 1994 and the election of Chandrika Kumaratunga as President, Vigneswaran became a key participant in all the civil society efforts and government initiatives to restore the PCs and implement 13A, both during the Kumaratunga presidency and the succeeding administrations of Mahinda Rajapaksa and the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo.

Devolution efforts stalled after the election of Gotabaya Rajapaksa, who in so many words declared that he had no time for 13A or PCs in his presidential agenda, whatever it was. Only that his whole agenda turned out to be a wholesale disaster for the country. Already by then, all the nine Provincial Councils had fallen into abeyance with the cancellation of the 1988 PC elections by the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo, with the TNA standing by. The abeyance continues under the JVP-NPP government with no apparent end in sight after Tilvin de Silva’s statement in Jaffna.

I say all this to provide the proper context for Vigneswaran’s statement in Jaffna that the prospects for power devolution under the JVP-NPP government are becoming a political daydream. He said something else as well: that of all the government leaders he has encountered over the years, the only leader who has been genuinely sincere about power devolution is former President Chandrika Kumaratunga, and no one else. I am constrained to add that the insincere category would include Ranil Wickremesinghe, who for all his handsome promises, never matched any of them with experiential sincerity. The present JVP-NPP government still has time to show that they are not an insincere lot.

It is not my purpose to agree with or question Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertions, but to use them as cue and context to comment on the widening mismatch between the JVP-NPP government’s promises and its practices on the matter of power devolution and the restoration of the PC system. With a stalling economy, rising prices and external shocks, it is obvious that the government has all the economic matters to worry about, but that does not mean that it can ignore all the other government responsibilities. No government is put in power to solve a single problem or address a single issue. It is in the nature of governments to deal with multiple problems with varying priorities. Otherwise you could have a single cabinet minister to deal with one problem at a time. That is never going to be the case.

The economy is of course the top of mind priority for the government even as it is a top of mind concern for the people. Even on the economic front, the government is holding steady but is showing little progress. And there are other government initiatives where political accountability will call for answers: to wit, the catchall Clean Sri Lanka programme, ambitious educational reforms, contentious energy sector reforms and, yes, power devolution as well as the overpromised constitutional reforms. Not to mention the sprawling unforced errors over substandard coal imports, foreign exchange fraud, and the chronic neglect of developing the renewable energy sector. Correcting these fields of errors may require a separate ministry for each.

Devolution: Daydream or Deliverable

On the PC system and constitutional reform, there has been scant progress in spite of handsome promises. On both, the government is inadvertently deepening the holes that it had dug itself into through indifference, inaction or procrastination, or all of them and more. In the matter of devolution and provincial councils, the government can simply defuse the situation by directing the Election Commission to conduct elections at the earliest opportunity that is logistically possible. Making his statement in Jaffna, Mr. Tilvin Silva alluded to funding shortfall and legal complications as reasons for the necessity to postpone PC elections until next year. Neither reason holds water.

The funding question would seem to have been put to rest by the statement of Health Minister and Cabinet Spokesman Nalinda Jayatissa, presumably reflecting cabinet consensus, that there are no funding issues and if needed additional funds could be arranged through supplementary allocations. It is also disingenuous to cite legal complications as a reason. The so called legal complications arose because of the collective stupidity of the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe parliament that included the then miniscule NPP and the politically-lost TNA. The JVP-NPP has now ballooned from a handful MPs to a two-thirds majority and it can expedite any legislation that it wants to enable the PC elections to be held without delays.

Alternatively, the elections can be held under the old arrangement of proportional representation with assurance by political parties to honour their commitment to fielding more female candidates. Already at a gathering of all political parties, including the NPP (but not the JVP), and civil society groups, convened by People’s Action For Free & Fair Elections (PAFFREL), the political parties jointly committed to a 25% quota for women and youth under the old electoral system. The ongoing parliamentary committee exercise studying the legal matter, headed by the overstretched Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath, is also an unnecessary red herring. The Election Commission is ready to go under whatever law or electoral system that is before it. So, there is no reason to hide behind legal complications to further delay the PC elections.

Somewhat amusingly, Public and Parliamentary Affairs Minister Ananda Wijepala has trotted out the argument that the NPP government has already conducted two nationwide elections during the one and a half years it has been in office, and that unlike the Ranil Wickremesinghe government the JVP-NPP is not in the business “to delay elections for our personal benefit” – whatever that means. Unfortunately, the good minister is missing the point. The question is not how many elections can the JVP-NPP hold in how many years, but how many years do people in the provinces have to wait before they vote in another provincial election? How many more years? That really is the question.

We know the current situation in the provinces. There are provincial governments but no elected provincial councils. The government administration in every province is being run by the President of the Republic through his handpicked governors and unelected government officials. This is a travesty of democracy and the euthanizing of the PC system. Already under 13A, the office of the provincial governors has been constitutionally and legally compared to the office of the Governors of old Ceylon who represented the monarch in what was then a crown colony. The irony is that a JVP-NPP President may have inadvertently positioned himself as the monarch of all he provincially surveys, courtesy of the Thirteenth Amendment!

The JVP was in the forefront of the litigation that caused the demerger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces. If Dr. Vigneswaran’s assertion were to prove correct, a potential dissolution of the provincial system under the JVP-NPP government would be the consummation of the JVP’s original opposition to the introduction of the provincial council system itself. The whole system may not be eradicated, but it could be devoured of its democratic essence while preserving the administrative shell as the medium for the country’s president to overreach into the provinces. That would be worse than a daydream, a real nightmare.

by Rajan Philips ✍️

Features

‘Spectrum’ Art Exhibition Showcases Emerging Talent at Lionel Wendt

Published

3 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

A new art exhibition, titled Spectrum ,will be held at the Lionel Wendt Art Centre on the 20th and 21st of June 2026, bringing together a collection of works by ten emerging artists.

Athsara Wijegunawardena

Neha Thirumavalavan

Dillai Joseph

Wasantha Siriwardena

Champika Dias

Nipun Dias

Dr. Prasanna Siriwardena

Kalhari Perera

Siromi Samarasinghe

Chandana Illankone

All ten artists have trained under the guidance of renowned Sri Lankan artist Royden Gibbs, and this exhibition marks an important point in their individual journeys.

Dr. Prasanna Siriwardena

Spectrum brings together a mix of styles, subjects and approaches, giving visitors a chance to experience a wide range of work in one place. The exhibition will include pieces in watercolors, soft pastels, oils and charcoal, reflecting both the discipline and personal direction of each artist. The work ranges from scenery and portraits to still life and studies of the human form, offering different ways of seeing and interpreting familiar subjects.

: Nipun Dias

: Wasantha Siriwardena

Dillai Joseph

Although they share the same mentor, each artist presents a distinct point of view. The result is a show that feels varied yet connected, with each piece carrying its own character and intent. It is this balance that gives Spectrum its identity.

The exhibition aims to support and highlight emerging talent within Sri Lanka’s art scene, while also creating a space where artists and audiences can connect. Visitors will find work that shifts between quiet observation and more expressive pieces, making it an engaging experience for both seasoned collectors and those simply interested in art.

Spectrum is expected to draw art lovers, collectors, students and members of the wider creative community. It also offers an opportunity to discover and support new artists at an early stage in their careers.

Open to the public over two days, Spectrum invites visitors to experience a range of work in a venue that has long been part of Colombo’s cultural landscape.

Features

Rewiring Brain: Meditation to Break the Cycle of Craving

Published

3 hours ago

2026/06/7

Thilina Walpola

“Craving begets sorrow, craving begets fear. For him who is free from craving there is no sorrow; how can there be fear for him,” Dhammapada verse 216 states. The mental factor craving, Tanha in Pali, is central to Buddhist Teaching, as its ultimate goal is the cessation or extinction of it—tanhakkhaya. Even though Tanha is translated as craving here, it can sometimes mislead modern readers into thinking tanha only refers to extreme or physical addictions. Just as with any Pali term, it has broad meanings. Venerable Walpola Rahula describes it as “thirst” or unceasing wanting, one of the deep-rooted proclivities or latent tendencies (anusaya) of life (Rahula 1959), without which life as we know would not exist.

Even though the Buddha recognized this natural phenomenon two and a half millennia ago, it was only in the late 20th century that science took note of it and gave it a captivating term—the Hedonic Treadmill. The advantage of this empirical investigation to us Buddhists is that it provides a way to gain penetrative, experiential comprehension (anubodha) of this concept using the vernacular of this technology-savvy age—an alternative to struggling with the language of a bygone era.

These investigations have revealed that there are no hard-to-comprehend metaphysical or mysterious elements involved with this phenomenon; it is a biochemical process fundamental to sustaining life. What is more, an effort to grasp this concept would be well within the goals of Vipassana meditation described in the Sutta Pitaka, incorporating the four elements of investigation: body (kayanupassana), sensations (vedananupassana), mind (chittanupassana), and natural laws (dhammanupassana).

Vipassana and modern science

Vipassana meditation is an in-depth exploration of how humans perceive the world, gain knowledge, and interact with themselves and the environment. Knowing this with wisdom allows one to lead a harmonious way of life (samadhi), a condition conducive to curbing the “thirst” and achieving the Buddhist ideal. The goal of modern science is also to investigate life, but humanity has often used that knowledge to increase material wealth and comfort, providing only lip service to spirituality on the fringe.

An attitude that tends to ignore the consequences of wanting more and more – thirst, potentially endangering the planet. However, that does not prevent us from using scientific information as and aid or a tool to grasp Buddhist concepts. The scientific method bears parallels to the Buddhist approach: it is based on causality (paticcasamuppada), empirical verification (ehipassiko), systematic observation (meditation), and rejecting dogma and beliefs. The primary difference is simply the vocabulary used.

The process of perception: five aggregates

Our five external sense organs receive data (vedana) containing information on the environment: Eyes: receive light, Ears: receive sound, Skin: senses physical contact and temperature, Nose & Tongue: sense chemical properties of substances. The data received by the sense organs is transmitted to the brain, where it is registered as neural networks (sanna). Neural networks, which are interconnected groups of nerve cells (neurons) can be viewed as mind-readable QR codes.

The activity of the brain, or mind (mano), processes this data and converts them into actionable information (sankhara). Modern neuroscience and psychology have made great advances in understanding these processes at the molecular level. This process allows the individual to become aware of their environment, build an autobiographical memory or the notion of a self (atta), and take actions to protect and perpetuate life.

The Pali term vinnana refers to the collection of information committed to memory. Translating vinnana as “consciousness” can be confusing, as the latter often refers to all brain activities. All physical phenomena that sense organs encounter and the mental constructs (sankhara) are referred to as Rupa. This activity of mind forms the basis of all knowledge, representing the entire world as perceived by the individual. This process is what the Teaching refers to as the Five Aggregates (pancakkhanda). The critical takeaway is that the world we perceive is merely a mental construct. While an objective world exists, our sense organs have limitations in seeing it—a fact easily realized through the hundreds of illusions used for entertainment.

Evolution and emotion

The evolutionary purpose of this data processing mechanism is to enable living beings to respond to environmental factors for survival. The psychological and physiological state that arises prior to acting is called emotion. Primarily, emotions can be of three kinds: desire (loba) – seeing a new phone causes an urge to buy it, even though the current one works fine; aversion (dosha) – encountering a vicious dog triggers a “fight or flight” response; delusion (moha) or illusion – an unanswered message to a loved one triggers worry or speculation. Thus, tanha or thirst represents how we connect to the world in its entirety; it can be desire, aversion, and delusion, not merely simple greed. Consequently, these are natural phenomena beyond our immediate control, which are intended to sustain life. In other words, emotions are the forerunner to volitions or intentions, which the Teaching defines as kamma.

The biochemistry of craving

Emotions result from the interaction between the nervous system and biochemicals known as neurotransmitters and neuromodulators (e.g., dopamine, serotonin, epinephrine, GABA, glutamate, acetylcholine, and endorphins). Just as the Buddha’s simile of two bundles of bamboo supporting each other describes, these two processes are interdependent and co-arising. Every thought or emotional state corresponds to patterns of neural firing. When neurons fire, they release these chemicals into synapses, influencing how one feels and acts. This release perturbs the body’s normal balance, or homeostasis. Once an action is complete, these chemicals are reabsorbed, and the body returns to its baseline.

Return to baseline is essential for survival. For example, if we stay satisfied with just one meal forever, we could not sustain life. Nature has developed another mechanism to prevent us from being satisfied – we also habituate. In the case of dopamine, the brain adapts by reducing the response to the same stimulus. To get the same level of satisfaction with repeated experiences, the amounts of neurotransmitters needed keeps increasing. This leads to the cycle of craving and dissatisfaction—the Hedonic Treadmill. You “run” toward happiness on the treadmill, but it does not take you anywhere, leaving you in the same emotionally unsatisfactory state, wanting more and more.

Breaking the cycle

This explains why achievements and possessions do not bring permanent happiness, and lead to a cycle of struggle, addiction, crime, and other ills of society. For Buddhists, it also explains why we cling to meaningless rituals. The Dhamma captured this complex phenomenon in the Four Noble Truths: pleasant experiences are impermanent (anicca), leading to grasping (tanha) and unsatisfactoriness (dukkha). The remedy is the Eightfold Path that involves wisdom (panna), conduct (sila), and harmony (samadhi).

Neuroplasticity and the point of liberation

While we cannot stop the sense organs from receiving stimulation (vedana) and sending them to brain, the mind can be developed to prevent vedana from leading to tanha. This is the “point of liberation,” the seventh link in the paticcasamuppada formula. We may not have free will, but we have ‘Free Won’t’ or the ability to say no to the natural tendency to act upon stimuli. We can rewire our neural connections to do so. This ability can be cultivated by practice and repetition, and neuroscience refers to it as neuroplasticity—the brain’s ability to change with experience.

The natural tendency of the brain is to strengthen frequently used neural networks while weakening and eliminating lesser used networks and building new ones as needed. This is known as neural plasticity or rewiring the brain. As described in the Eight-fold Path, the way to weaken and eliminate dopamine-driven neural networks includes three aspects. First, the process leading to thirst must be understood. One must engage in sila – activities and thoughts that cultivate Metta: loving-kindness and goodwill, Karuna: compassion, Mudita: appreciative joy, and Upekkha: equanimity, emotional stability, calmness, and evenness of mind in the face of gain and loss, praise and blame, fame and disrepute, pleasure, and pain. That must be done with wisdom, ritualistic behavior does not strengthen the correct neural networks. These activities promote a “cocktail” of oxytocin, serotonin, and GABA, subduing the role of dopamine and helping us step off the Hedonic Treadmill. This leads to a tranquil state of mind and a harmonious existence – samadhi. Again, it is an interdependent, co-arising process that improves upon repetition. Using mind altering substances hijacks this process, thus the need for adhering to the Fifth Precept.

The goal of Vipassana is to understand this process and train the mind to say “no” to tanha. It is not just about sitting on a mat; it requires developing a lifestyle that maintains homeostasis or harmony, samadhi, at every moment. Pali term bhavana means the development of wisdom and insight. In modern vernacular – rewiring brain. This model must be assessed for its efficacy by the individual and realize the benefits by themselves –ehipassiko; knowledge without practice does not work. According to what the Buddha taught, that is the path to cessation or extinction of craving – tanhakkhaya, the supreme goal.

by Geewananda Gunawardana, Ph.D. ✍️