Dear Dennis,
Thank you for the 3-part article, “Knowingness … or Not.”
I must say, I was disappointed.
Knowing the thoroughness with which you normally approach a subject, and the attention to detail you bring to a task once you undertake it, I had hoped to see a scholarly critique of “Knowingness”—particularly one supported by shAstric evidence showing where the term falls short, together with possible suggestions for improvement or alternative vocabulary for consideration.
Instead, much of the investigation seems to have gone into tracing the frequency of its occurrence, rather than examining the more fundamental question: whether “Knowingness” is an appropriate rendering of jñAnam in the particular context in which I have used it.
There is an interesting irony here. Back in May 2020, you openly described your difficulty with “Knowingness” as a “mental block.” I had hoped that, over the years, the effort would have gone into examining and perhaps dissolving that block. For a Vedantin, I suppose, the more worthwhile exercise is to examine one’s own blocks (any blocks) rather than construct a stronger wall around them.
I think that your investigation, interesting as it is, addresses a somewhat different question from the one I actually raised.
Frequency is not a determinative criterion:
Let me first make one thing quite clear. I have never suggested that jñAna or jñAnam should invariably be translated as “Knowingness.” Sanskrit words do not come with meanings fixed in iron frames, as I have written in these columns several times. Their meaning and nuance are determined by context, usage and occasion, and this flexibility and fluidity of the Sanskrit language is one of its great strengths.
My present point is specifically about jñAnam in Taittirīya Upaniṣad 2.1.1, in satyam jñAnam anantam brahma and allied vAkya-s. I suggested that, in this particular context, “Knowingness” can convey something that the familiar English “knowledge” tends to obscure. That is the question I think that needs to be investigated.
I have no doubt whatsoever to frequency analysis as a research tool. It can tell us something useful about historical usage, translation preferences, terminology, and the evolution of language.
But it is hard for me to be convinced that the frequency of past usage can serve as a determinative parameter for deciding whether a particular rendering is appropriate in a particular context. Moreover, the catchment area from which the statistical sample is drawn can heavily skew the results.
The fact that translators have generally used “knowledge” tells us that “knowledge” is the conventional translation. It does not establish that “knowledge” is necessarily the most precise translation in every context. Most of the authors / translators may not have had such an objective in their purview when using it.
A simple analogy is the scientific term “spacetime.” Before Einstein, the frequency of “spacetime” in scientific literature was effectively zero. That did not make the term invalid when a new conceptual distinction required it. The question was whether the term served the purpose for which it was introduced—not how frequently it had occurred previously. Advaita itself abounds with many such terms – ‘mithya’ introduced by Shankara, brahmAkAra vRtti by post-Shankarites and so on.
I see “Knowingness” in the same light. Its rarity is a fact about its history of usage. It is not an argument about its semantic suitability in the passage under discussion.
I am also not very clear as to what you meant when you speak of “Knowingness” as traditional terminology. What exactly is the “tradition” to which this can refer—Prof. Max Müller and Dr. G. Thibaut?
The Sanskrit evidence is the real issue:
In taittirīya 2.1.1, Śhaṅkara himself goes to some trouble to explain what he means by jñAnam:
ज्ञानं ज्ञप्तिः अवबोधः ।
He then explains that jñAna is used adjectivally along with satya and ananta, and, importantly, says that it is derived in the cognate sense of the verb.
He further explains the purpose of jñAnam brahma as excluding from brahman instrumentality such as that of an agent, and also excluding non-consciousness such as that of inert objects.
This is not a casual choice of the word “knowledge.”
Śhaṅkara is asking us to understand what jñAna is doing in this sentence and why that particular expression is used.
The four words—
satyam — jñAnam — anantam — brahma
—are samAnAdhikaraNa. They are not four independently existing things, nor three attributes being added to an already conceived brahman. Each points to the same substantive, brahman, from a different standpoint.
In the case of jñAnam, Śhaṅkara specifically draws our attention to the cognate verbal sense of √jñā and glosses the term with jñapti and avabodhab
That is precisely why I hesitate to leave the English reader simply with “brahman is Knowledge.”
Why “Knowledge” troubles me here:
The ordinary English word “knowledge” has a very broad semantic range, but its common associations include information, facts, learning, understanding, or something acquired and possessed.
That is not what I am trying to convey here.
The distinction I am trying to preserve is between what is known and the very svabhAva or nature of knowing.
A sensor provides a simple analogy. The sensor’s essential function is to detect. What it happens to detect is a separate matter. I have used this analogy merely to help an English-speaking reader appreciate the distinction between the knowing and the content known. I am not suggesting, of course, that brahman is literally a sensor or performs an action.
“Knowingness” is an attempt to retain the sense of knowing, rather than allowing the noun “knowledge” to suggest a store or possession of knowledge.
This is also why the grammatical route matters:
know → knowing → knowingness:
“Knowing” retains the verbal force of “to know”; “Knowingness” makes that quality or nature of knowing into an abstract noun.
I had explained this aspect of the terminology in our earlier discussions. Briefly, it is as follows:
In his commentary on taittirīya Upaniṣad 2.1.1, hŚaṅkara clarifies that jñAnam represents the abstract verbal root meaning (bhAva-sAdhana)—pure, elemental “knowing”—rather than an agent who knows (jñAtā), an instrument of knowing (karaNa), or an accumulated store of information or memory (jñeya).
To capture this unceasing, intrinsic sentience without attributing agency or relational duality, I employ the term “Knowing.” The gerund form “Knowing” conveys the continuous, unbroken nature of sentience—much like a sensor or detector that remains inherently functional regardless of whether an object is present to be detected. Adding the suffix “-ness” restores the term to a noun denoting pure nature (svabhAva), thereby avoiding any suggestion of active agency while preserving the non-relational, self-luminous essence of brahman.
The dictionary question:
I have a similar reservation about invoking Oxford or Chambers to decide this issue.
Those dictionaries are entirely appropriate authorities for determining how an English word is ordinarily used. But they cannot determine what the ancient Sanskrit technical term jñAna means in Śhaṅkara’s commentary.
In this context, it is worth listening to Swami Prakasanandedra Ji for about three minutes from 7:12 in the video:
Swami Prakasanandedra Ji — video, from 7:12
In other words, an English dictionary can tell us what “knowledge” means. It cannot tell us what Śhaṅkara means by jñAnam.
And in this case we have something much better than a dictionary: Śhaṅkara himself explains in detail at his taittirIya bhASya.
Your reference to the “mental block”:
There is one other aspect of our old discussion which I think is worth recalling.
You wrote about your “mental block” concerning brahman being “Knowingness” and “Beingness.” You also explained that the difficulty arose partly because “know” naturally suggests the familiar knower–knowing–known triad.
I understood that difficulty then, and I understand it now.
But this actually brings us back to the pedagogical reason for my choice. If an English word creates a habitual conceptual association that is unhelpful in a particular teaching context, perhaps it is worth examining whether another expression can loosen that association.
The unfamiliarity of “Knowingness” is therefore not necessarily a defect. It may be the very reason that it makes the reader stop and ask, “What exactly is meant by this?”
That question can then lead us back to the Sanskrit.
Finally, what I am—and am not—claiming:
I am not claiming:
“jñAna always means Knowingness.”
I am not claiming:
“Knowingness is established traditional terminology.”
And I am certainly not claiming that every translator should adopt my terminology.
There is another point I have made from the very beginning, but which seems to have been overlooked. I have no special attachment to the word “Knowingness.” It was never my intention to promote it as a term that everyone must adopt. I have repeatedly said that I would be quite happy to consider any alternative term that conveys the intended meaning more accurately and naturally in English.
My concern, therefore, is not to defend a particular word at all costs. The word is only a means to an end. The real question is: what English expression best conveys what Śhaṅkara intends by jñAnam in this particular context? If someone can suggest a term better suited than “Knowingness,” I am entirely open to considering it. What I would like to see is the alternative argued on the basis of the Sanskrit and the shAstra, rather than the frequency—or unfamiliarity—of the English word.
What I am saying is much more modest and, I think, very reasonable:
In taittirīya 2.1.1, “Knowingness” can be a useful and perhaps more faithful English rendering of jñAnam than “knowledge,” because it helps preserve the cognate/verbal sense which Śhaṅkara himself brings out through jñapti, avabodha and the cognate sense of √jñā, while avoiding the objectifying or acquisitional associations that “knowledge” can carry in English.
That proposition cannot be established or refuted by counting how many times “Knowingness” occurred in earlier books.
Nor can it be settled by looking up “knowingness” in an English dictionary.
It has to be examined against the Sanskrit, Śaṅkara’s bhASya, the immediate context, and the precise meaning we want the English translation to communicate.
So perhaps, as I said some years ago, it is time to take a hard look at some of our Advaita argot and ask whether our English terminology is actually helping the reader see what the Sanskrit is saying.
regards,
[* – This response to a 3-part Series of blog posts has become too long to fit into a comment Section. Hence, it is posted as a separate Article.]