Stop thinking this is mine and stop thinking this is not mine. Then tell me, where are you? Tell me also: what did your face look like, before your parents were born?¹

On February 27, 1997, the journal Nature published a historic article that would reawaken a modern ethical debate. Scientists in Scotland reported that they had successfully produced a viable mammalian offspring derived from the transfer of an adult cell nucleus to an ennucleated egg-a clone². Suddenly, Huxley's brave new world was no longer a fictionalized possibility but a looming reality. Dolly-the sheep created in the experiment-became the "poster lamb" for both the promise and the threat of burgeoning molecular technologies.

Legislative action was not far behind the ensuing media frenzy. Days later, on March 4, President Clinton banned the use of federal funding for cloning of human beings. At the same time, he requested that the National Bioethics Advisory Commission (NBAC) review the issues surrounding cloning and prepare a report on the ethical implications of cloning humans. This was a daunting task, for the commision was to incorporate not only scientific and ethical views, but legal and religious perspectives as well. The NBAC did acknowledge the importance of religion in their work by asserting that, "religious thinkers have discussed the prospect of human cloning in the context of long-standing religious traditions that often influence and guide citizen's responses to new technologies."³ Indeed, the commission strove to represent the diverse state of American religion by incorporating views from Islamic, Judaic, and Christian perspectives. However, these perspectives do not include the major Asian religions that are growing in their representation in American religious life.

Considering the scale of the task facing the NBAC, one can appreciate that reasonable limits had to be placed upon the materials incorporated into the final report. However, with this limitation also comes a loss of the richness that a radically different perspective brings to the discussion. In particular, it can be said that an underlying assumption of all religious perspectives included in the report is that the individual as a distinct self is unquestioned. This concept of the self is such a fundamental assumption that it is not explicitly stated; nevertheless, one can see this belief throughout the NBAC report. For example, in the "Religious Perspectives" section, a Protestant perspective on humans describes them as, "created, dependent on God, and finite[emphasis added]."⁴ From the biblical account of creation, one can infer the Judaic and Christian perspective, "human beings are embodied selves."⁵ The NBAC itself asserts that "Religious concerns focus mainly on how such persons created through cloning will inevitably or possibly be treated, rather than whether such persons are actually unique creatures [emphasis added] in God's image."⁶ Many of the ethical issues surrounding cloning that have been addressed by religious thinkers and ethicists are based on the perceived violation of a person's individuality.

But what would happen to the debate over cloning if the idea of a discrete, separate individual was held to be false? It is at this point that incorporating a belief system with a different perspective-namely Buddhism-becomes helpful. Buddhism differs from the religious traditions described in the NBAC report in several ways that contribute to the religion's unique perspectives. First, its primary aim is to delineate a method designed to liberate one from suffering. Second, while some branches and schools mention deities and gods, Buddhism is not a theistically centered religion. Most important for this discussion, however, is that one of the core teachings of Buddhism is that the idea of a discrete, separate self is illusory; there is no thing in creation that has a "self". Cloning challenges Western beliefs in identity and personhood, just as Buddhism does. (The Buddha refuted the notion of an essential, truly existent self, yet accepted the notion of a conventional self for practical purposes.) Indeed, contemplating the nature of identity in light of cloning provides an opportunity for spiritual insight.

For the purpose of this paper, the Buddhist perspectives will be drawn mostly from the Mahayana branch of Buddhism and will focus in particular on the Zen/Ch'an Buddhist school of thought within this branch.⁷ It is fitting to draw from Zen teachings because there is an aspect of cloning that is paradoxical and thus evocative of the koan, the nonlogical riddles and parables used within Zen teachings that push the student towards abandoning dualistic thought and realizing enlightenment. The challenge of this discourse, however, lies in trying to elucidate a "Zen Buddhist" perspective. Zen is notorious for its supraintellectual stance and its belief that clinging to opinion, even opinions favoring "good" deeds, leads one away from enlightenment. For the sake of discussion, the point of view of this paper is that morality is intimately intertwined in the practice of Buddhism and that interpretation of the moral conundrums posed by cloning is possible within the framework of Mahayana and Zen teachings. As Ch'an Master Hsu Yun emphasized, "The practice of any door [to Enlightenment] must be based on Sila [morality]."⁸

Finally, Edward Conze, in his excellent book on Buddhist thought in India, raises an astute point about Buddhism and philosophical debates:

Bearing this in mind, this article embraces different views from other religious traditions as a complement to the views discussed here. Involving different religious traditions (including Buddhism) in the cloning debate evokes the parable of the elephant and the blind men. Each blind man feels one part of the elephant-one describes a large leaf upon having felt the ear, another describes the trunk of a tree upon feeling the leg. The more views that are included (such as an American Buddhist lay perspective such as this one), the more complete a picture is made of the beast at hand, which in this case, is the morality of human cloning.

THE THREE MARKS
The story of Siddhartha Gotama, the historical Buddha, is the story of a person in search for the answer to human suffering. Siddhartha, born in India during the sixth century B.C.E., lived a charmed life as a prince with education, wealth, a beautiful wife, and a son. But when confronted with the realities of sickness, old age, and death, he made the decision to renounce his worldly possessions and set off in search of the solution to human suffering. He cut off his hair with his sword, traded his fine clothes and jewelry for simple robes, and became a wandering ascetic. For years, Siddhartha searched out teachers and practices that would lead him to an understanding of human suffering. He retreated to the forest for years to practice austerities such as fasting and meditation. He found that physical punishment was of no avail and settled down in methodical meditation under a tree, resolving not to rise until the comprehension of the nature of suffering was clear to him. He sat, unmoving, for six days, at the end of which he reached bodhi (enlightenment) and became known as the Buddha-"the Awakened One."

One of the teachings that the Buddha passed on in the decades following his awakening is that existence is marked by three things: impermanence, suffering, and no-self. This teaching is fundamental for all schools and orders of Buddhism. Impermanence, the most empirically obvious of the three marks, states that nothing lasts forever. People are born and die, mountains are formed and eroded into sand, emotional states come and go. Any one thing that can be conceived of is impermanent by nature. When asked by a student to distill the essence of Buddhism down to one sentence, Shunryu Suzuki, a Zen master, replied, "Everything changes."¹⁰ This is a testament to the importance of realizing impermanence in Buddhist practice.

The next mark, suffering, has been widely misunderstood by many as a sign that Buddhism is a fundamentally pessimistic practice. This mark states that existence is inseparably entwined with impermanence and this relationship makes suffering inseparably entwined with existence. Suffering comes from being apart from what we find pleasurable or being close to that which we find aversive. Buddhism does not teach that life is a wretched experience, just that the pleasures we do get from objects or people are impermanent and thus the end of pleasure is suffering. This is considered to be such a fundamental truth in Buddhism that it is the first of the Four Noble Truths of Buddhism.¹¹

The final mark, no-self, is a less empirically obvious mark than the first two and is one that requires reflection and contemplation. This mark states that since everything is impermanent, there is nothing that has a permanent abiding identity that could be called a "self." We may look at our bodies and say, "Well, this is my self right here. Look at me! I'm quite solid." But if we trace our life back to its beginning as a fertilized egg, we had no "body" at that point. Our bodies have been assimilated from food we have eaten, life consumed. Our cells continuously turn over; our bodily water is in a continuum with the "external" environment by our drinking and excreting. At what point does the physical body become "me"? Others may point to our consciousness, a Cartesian argument of thoughts being evidence of our selves. But our thoughts are not our own. How much of our thinking process is taken from what has been taught to us? And what happens to our identity when our thoughts change with age and experience? Buddhism states that all the things we associate with a "self"-our bodies, our feelings, our thoughts, our consciousness-are aggregates of other things, all impermanent by nature.

These marks are all interrelated with one another; it is impossible to discuss one without also including the other two. A passage from the Majjhimanikaaya sutra illuminates this point with a discussion between the Buddha and his students:

Since all things are impermanent, there is nothing that can be perceived as an absolute self. Clinging to the idea that a self truly exists is a source of suffering, since ultimately the impermanence of what one believes to be "self" will destroy the illusion of permanence. Although this may sound quite dismal from the perspective of losing a personal identity, it opens up all beings to a great interconnectedness. The image of a waterfall is often used to describe human existence in light of no-self. As the water courses over the edge of a cliff, it breaks up into streams and droplets, which may seem quite distinct. But its essence is still that of water; only temporarily does it have a life of its "own." At the end of their fall, the streams and droplets again join the river. Our lives are much like this, seemingly distinct but inseparable from the essence of life.¹³ When we fight against this, when we stubbornly insist on our individuality, we only create suffering, both for ourselves and for others. How funny for the falling water droplet to say, "I am unique! An individual, completely separate from all these other water droplets around me."

CLONING AND NO-SELF
Certainly the Buddha never discussed the ethics or metaphysics of cloning technology, but that does not mean a discussion of cloning based in Buddhist teachings cannot take place. "Be a lamp unto yourself" was one of the final deathbed urgings of the Buddha to his followers, encouraging them to seek out the truth from their own experiences. With cloning, modern scholars have followed this urging, offering different ethical interpretations-from Buddhist perspectives-of cloning. Damien Keown, a Buddhist ethicist, asserts that fertility technology is in accord with the basic good of creating life and opportunities for rebirth. As for cloning, he ventures that the clone would undoubtedly be an individual from an ontological point of view and, based on Buddhist teachings, should be granted full moral respect and protection.¹⁴ An NBAC-commissioned paper by Courtney Campbell reviewed several religious traditions, including Buddhism, for their views on cloning. His take on the Buddhist perspective is that cloning does provide the valuable opportunity for rebirth but also holds the opportunity for harm during the research process; therefore Buddhism would have more concern for the cloning research than the actual cloning of a human.¹⁵ These views are examples of the different approaches to examining cloning ethics even within the Buddhist community.

One facet of Buddhism that has not been fully explored in these discussions, however, is the concept of no-self in relation to cloning. Within the NBAC report, numerous concerns for threats to the clone-parent individuality were voiced. The reactions of some ethicists were quite strong when addressing these points, as exemplified by Leon Kass's testimony to the NBAC:

Kass believes that repugnance shows how innately objectionable cloning is. But what if that repugnance is a defense of the ego, not the "bearer of deep wisdom"? If the ego, in seeing it is no longer a "unique" entity is recoiling in fear at its demise? The reactions of people can be emotional because cloning, in essence, poses a fatal threat to the idea of a discrete individual identity-a kind of death. If I am faced with a clone of myself, where am I? Am I still completely myself? If so, what does that make this person standing before me? And the flip side of this coin is the clone's perspective. Am I my own person, or less so, because the "parent" (the DNA donor) has already lived a life with my DNA? The mark of no-self states that ultimately there is nothing that can be apprehended as self. The parent has no fear of losing its identity to a clone since there was no inherent identity to begin with. Therefore, theoretically, the clone has no fear of losing its potential because of knowing what the parent did with its DNA because the clone is in no way (other than physically) a replica of the parent. Dogen Zenji, a thirteenth-century Japanese Zen master, spoke of firewood and ash in a way that can illuminate this point:

While Dogen was teaching on birth and death with this metaphor, it can be extended to cloning. The parent is just the parent and does not become the clone. The clone is just the clone and is not an extension of the parent. Right from the start, neither firewood nor ashes, nor parent or clone, have an abiding identity.

We can also examine the specific reasons for wanting to clone a person in light of the three marks as well. Why does someone want to clone a human? People may desire to create a physical duplicate of either themselves or a person to whom they are attached-a deceased child, a beloved leader, a spiritual teacher. When parents lose a child they loved greatly, there is deep suffering in encountering the impermanence of that child. It would be a deception, from a Buddhist perspective, to offer up a clone of that child as a solution to their suffering. That child cannot be reproduced, and by denying impermanence and no-self, one only creates more suffering. And what of trying to reproduce a leader? There is a famous Zen saying: "If you meet the Buddha, kill the Buddha." This isn't as flagrantly disrespectful a sentiment as many assume. It tries to point out that people cling to the notion of something existing that can guide or help a them. If they believe they have found definite answers to questions, either in dogma or a leader's teachings, they are clinging to a falsehood. So to clone the Buddha in all his wisdom would be foolish, because there is no absolute answer or solution to be found in him. To reach enlightenment, one eventually has to forsake attachment even to the Buddha's teachings.

Is the use of reproductive technology such as cloning morally acceptable if a couple is infertile? The answer again lies in the intent behind the use of the technology. If cloning were undertaken to insure a continuation of "our" DNA or family bloodline, then that would be a clinging to the notion of a self that could be continued. If the intent behind cloning were, without clinging to a notion of self, to nurture and raise a child, then that intent would be in line with the teachings of the Buddha. However, other ethical principles within Buddhism would first direct the infertile couple to other alternatives before cloning. Adoption would be preferred to the creation of a clone for three reasons:

THE KOAN OF CLONING
The preceding discussion may suggest that if one always maintains the concept of no-self at the forefront, then one can be sure of seeing cloning in a proper Buddhist perspective. Many people involved with the cloning debate from both secular and religious traditions have been emphatic in asserting that the cloned offspring would be a separate, autonomous self. This arose out of concern that the human rights of the clone would be viewed as less-than-that of the original DNA donor. To be sure, it can be said that the clone is indeed separate from the "parent." But at the same time, it is not separate. Herein lies the koan of cloning: To say that the clone is identical to the parent is inaccurate; to say that the clone is totally separate and independent of the parent is also inaccurate.

To understand this apparently contradictory assertion, it is useful to examine Mahayana Buddhist texts. In many sutras, such as the Diamond Sutra or the Heart Sutra (both of which are commonly used and upheld in Zen Buddhism), a dialectical logic is employed:

This dialogue between the Buddha and his disciple Subhuti may appear completely nonsensical at first, but this logic is the logic of trying to describe something the Mahayanans considered beyond words-the Absolute. Also called the Unconditioned or Nirvana, the Absolute transcends all thoughts and causality. Conze said, "There is no cause for the production of Nirvana, but there is a Path which leads to its realization."¹⁹ Thus describing the Absolute in words is an impossible task, since "one cannot say that it has been produced or not produced or that it can be produced, or that it is past, future, or present."²⁰ The method Zen Buddhists devised to speak of the Absolute was to use self-contradictory statements. Statements that assert a "correct" view (as all statements do-even this one!) are ultimately false to Zen Buddhists since they imply duality and concrete realities. With the impermanence and no-self of all things, our thoughts and views on things can only be deluded since they are informed by things, which have no permanent reality. The only thing that has reality is the Absolute, which contains both affirmations and negations. Emptiness-another Zen Buddhist simile for the Absolute-is the unifying phenomena between being and nonbeing, since all things can be considered "empty" of self. Even nonexistence is empty of a self. The only way to use conventional language to show the unity of opposites within the Absolute is to construct words such that they contradict themselves.

This is extraordinarily difficult to grasp in abstract. Zen Buddhists believe that the use of logic to grasp the Absolute is a waste of time; only prolonged meditation and reflection can illuminate this intuitive state. But this is where cloning can have such value, especially to those not familiar with Buddhism, particularly Zen Buddhism. If you look at a clone of a person, it seems like it is that person. But at the same time, it is not that person. What is being wrestled with in this situation is not a new conundrum created by technology, but an ancient problem that had been solved by the Buddha twenty-five hundred years ago.

CONCLUSION
After reading about the Absolute, some may feel as James Whitehill did when he commented that, "Buddhist philosophy in the West has ballooned off into the clouds of suunyaata-focused dialectics." (suunyaata being Sanskrit for Emptiness)²¹ To Westerners, this dialectical discussion may be fundamentally dissatisfying because we are accustomed to working within philosophical systems grounded in dualisms: black-white, good-bad, ethical-unethical. Debates within ethics usually center around interpretations as to whether an act can be seen as ethical or unethical. While there are instruction-oriented ethics that can be gleaned from Buddhism, one should keep in mind that in Buddhism the ultimate "good" is to rise above dualistic thought. Particularly in Zen Buddhism, clinging to the idea of doing a "good" act or an "ethical" act, while it may minimize harm to other beings and the creation of bad karma, is still missing the ultimate point.

With cloning, the specifics of the act (Should we clone a leader? Should we clone as a solution to infertility?) may not be the most ethical choices within Buddhist teachings, as has been discussed both here and in other commentaries. But there is a transcendent perspective on cloning which can facilitate spiritual insight. Is cloning good or bad? To answer this, we call upon Tao Wu's condolence call, another Zen koan. When Tao Wu and his student were paying a condolence visit to a lay family, the student knocked upon the coffin. Asked by his student, "Alive or dead?" Tao Wu replied, "I won't say!"²² For him to say would be to mislead his students on the nature of the Absolute, where yes and no coexist. Thus, on a metaphysical level, the ethical question of cloning can only be answered by a koan: "What was your original face before your parents were born?"

NOTES
1. Zen Buddhism: An Introduction to Zen, (Peter Pauper press 1959).