Coming full circle in this series about what goes into writing and publishing Buddhist books, I reached out to Daniel Aitken, publisher at Wisdom Publications, Nikko Odiseos, publisher at Shambhala Publications, and several Buddhist teachers, to get their perspectives on the material in the previous five installments.

Shambhala publishes about 60 titles a year, with a staff of 33. Wisdom publishes about 30 titles a year, with a staff of 17.

Since artificial intelligence was the topic of installment five, that was where our conversations began. The theme that emerged strongly in all of those conversations was the relationship between AI, books, teachers, and practice.

Daniel Aitken posed the following scenario to me: “Suppose AI had been perfected and had access to all human knowledge. You could ask a chatbot anything about Buddhism and know you would get a correct, factual, encouraging answer. Would that replace having a living teacher? Absolutely not.” Why? Because you need a relationship with someone who has lived experience of the path, and deep realization. They are your guide. AI can never replace that.

In other words, knowledge about Buddhism is not the same as wisdom gained by practicing Buddhism. It is the power of a teacher’s presence that enables the blessings and authentic transmission of the Dharma to come through to us. Words on a page may elucidate key concepts or present a new perspective to the reader, but like instruction manuals in the “how to” genre, they only take you so far. No amount of reading a driver’s manual will make you a proficient driver! Furthermore, the fruits of Buddhist practice are not simply about acquiring wisdom. Beyond listening and reading, one must contemplate, integrate, and apply what one has learned. Compassionate action in the world, a transformed heart-mind devoted to service rather than self-serving, is the essence of realization.

Nikko Odiseos told me basically the same thing within the context of the particular challenges of our modern attention economy, riffing on the book he’s been reading recently, Johann Hari’s Stolen Focus (Bloomsbury Publishing 2022). When I commented on how many Buddhist teachers seem enchanted with AI and suggested that another term for “enlightenment” might be “disenchantment,” in the sense of awakening from the magic spell of samsara, he said he thinks disenchantment with samsara is crucial in any Buddhist path.

Buddhism offers a tried-and-true pedagogy on reclaiming control of our own minds, but its survival depends on study, practice, and the benefit it brings to people, not the simulacrum of large language models. He suggested that a fundamental misunderstanding we have about AI is that we are trying to get something, as opposed to applying and internalizing methods to cut through our attachments, desires, habits, and delusions. It’s not the first time I have heard it said that Buddhist practice is the process of un-learning, not learning!

Since Dan and Nikko are strongly associated with Vajrayana—for which a qualified teacher is essential—I reached out to teachers from other lineages as well, to gain their perspectives on the relationship between AI, Buddhist books, teachers, and practice.

Next, I spoke with Rafe Martin, Roshi at Endless Path Zendo, a transmitted teacher of Philip Kapleau Roshi, and a Dharma heir of Danan Henry Roshi. He told me he shares my concern about AI:

I am deeply suspicious of Dharma teaching via AI. Dharma teaching is not just a matter of intellectually appropriate words. The long years of ongoing practice—the challenges, mistakes, and failures, the getting back up and trying again; the life experience and the sustained work and deepening understanding, in short, the (hopefully) maturing humanity and commitment of lineage holders, are central to actually helping others who also aim to realize and follow the Way of the Buddha.

After my conversation with Rafe, I spoke with Jeff Wilson, from the Jodo Shinshu Pure Land tradition. Jeff is a professor in the Department of Religious Studies at the University of Waterloo, as well as serving as a priest for the Toronto Buddhist Church. He has a different perspective. When I asked Wilson Sensei his take on the relationship between AI, books, the role of teachers, and how these are integrated into practice, here’s what he said:

In Jodo Shinshu the role of the total congregation is perhaps even more important than that of the priest, who is simply another foolish being with greater training and dedication than most of us. It is in relationship with each other that we practice the Dharma and rely on the collective wisdom and support of the sangha. AI can simulate friendship but it’s just a pantomime, without the true love, care, and solidarity that a genuine sangha provides. Perhaps an AI-written book could be productively discussed by a temple book club, since what matters more than the book’s content are the bonds and insights that develop in the group’s shared conversation. But I’ll admit I’m skeptical. Jodo Shinshu writing emphasizes the searching self-examination process in light of Amida Buddha’s wisdom and compassion. AI can’t authentically undertake that process, so anything it produces is hollow.

Finally, I spoke with Mitra Barua, from the Theravada tradition. Mitra is a former bhikkhu and works as an assistant professor of Asian Studies and Buddhist Scholar in Residence at Martin Luther University College. As he explained to me, ordained monks are the authoritative community leaders in Theravada communities but lay practice tends to revolve around rituals, chanting, and merit-making, rather than study of commentarial texts, although the Pali Canon itself is the fundamental reference resource. In fact, if one considers the leading Western books on Theravada practice, the vast majority are written by Western monks such as Bhikkhus Bodhi, Thanissaro, Analayo, and Brahm. Similarly, innovators such as Kabat-Zinn and other much-published mindfulness evangelists have mainstreamed Theravada, while sometimes denaturing the spiritual dimensions of the anapasati perspective found in the original teachings. In any event, cultivating experiential wisdom is definitely central to Western Theravada practice.

Of course, it’s worth noting that there are myriad forms of Buddhist practice, each with its own traditions regarding the role of the teacher, and these are just a few perspectives. But human-to-human transmission seems to be a universal theme to all of them. Furthermore, the specificity and personalization of advice a teacher can offer by knowing a student well is something entirely unavailable with a book or even a chatbot. The Dharma is not the sole refuge. You need the Buddha, represented by the teacher, and the sangha, your community of spiritual friends.

Whether we are writing and publishing for ourselves, future generations, or merely the AI algorithms that will attempt to bottle the echoes of our words in years to come, one thing is clear: Buddhist books are a precious treasure. Bows to those human beings who bring them into this world and preserve them. May the words of the Dharma be a balm to those who suffer and a light upon the path for those who seek a deeper truth.

See more

Stolen Focus: Why You Can’t Pay Attention—and How to Think Deeply Again

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So, You Want to Be a Buddhist Author, Eh? Part Five: Artificial Intelligence
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In a World of Human Ignorance, Can Artificial Intelligence Help?
Dharma, Perfect Knowledge, and Artificial Intelligence
Does Artificial Intelligence Have Buddha-nature?
The Rise of Artificial Intelligence and What it Means for Our Jobs

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