Criticizing Western Buddhism

& introducing the Notebook

This year I have read many critiques of Western and secularized forms of Buddhism: from their response or lack of response to the war in Gaza, to the commodification of the dharma, and others.

Critique is positive—or at least it can be—it’s one of the things that nourish growth, and there are very good reasons to do that. What intrigues me is how many critiques embody part of the phenomenon they seek to point out, as they simplify, idealise and romanticise the (supposedly) better or ‘purer’ Buddhism that the modern West has (supposedly) distorted.

This is common, so my point isn’t to find fault with particular individuals or criticisms but to make a general observation. It’s one thing to highlight superficial engagements with the dharma, such as ‘Vibe’ or ‘Nice’ Buddhism, and another to give the impression that this is a new thing.

Historically, Asian Buddhists have done a lot of what I see Western Buddhism criticized for: to develop and practice a feel-good dharma in order to feel more comfortable with one’s life, to fail to challenge power or condemn injustices, to rever teachers for their charisma, worship them as wish-granting objects, or make amulets of them—a huge business in Thailand.

We wouldn’t want to replace the bad modernist habit of telling Asians they misunderstood their own tradition with an equally sweeping judgement that we have distorted Buddhism completely. Or would we? This looks to me like swapping colonial arrogance for self-flagellation in the hopes it purifies us of our sins.

Of course, we look purer if we can spot the stains of modern Western Buddhism—paradoxically, to denounce the commercialization of the dharma is a good selling point. But that’s another version of finger-pointing, of “I’ve got the real stuff”, of attitudes that rub against certain principles of dharma practice. Many critiques simply don’t need the location element: they can stand on their own. In fact, I think they stand better that way.

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I have just created a new section on this substack: the “Notebook”. It’s a way to let readers choose how many posts they receive without making that money-dependent. These will be short, additional posts with dharma reflections, small practice suggestions, or thoughts in progress.

To avoid contributing to inbox overload, the Notebook section is opt-in only. You can do that here—if you don’t have a substack account it will prompt you to create one, just make sure to put the same email address you used to subscribe to Berni’s dharma.

Against all marketing advice, posting frequency will be irregular there too, subject to my time and energies. Because if this substack turned into a pressure to create content and be productive, I’d be doing the opposite of walking my talk.

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Before I disappear into planning the Christmas log pooping party – google ‘caga tió’ and be amazed at my culture – allow me to spread the fundraising campaign of Espai Sati, the dharma organization I co-founded a few years back. As a young and small organization, entirely dependent on the voluntary work of its members, bent on offering its activities at the lowest possible price, and aiming to have funds for discounts & bursaries, generosity is infinitely appreciated.

This holiday season we are offering our Spanish translation of Ajahn Mahā Chatchai’s A Flower Called Mettā, a selection of suttas I translated from Pali into Spanish, and 3 chapters of a forthcoming Catalan version of Stephen Batchelor’s classic Buddhism without Beliefs. If you know of any dharma practitioner who’d enjoy this gift, please share this with them:

Happy end of 2025 and beginning of 2026!