For better or worse, the word surmise seems to be growing rare. I can’t recall when I last saw it in print, much less heard it in conversation. Like the landline phone and the handwritten letter, this old-fashioned word may soon be leaving our daily lives.
Far less endangered is the mental activity surmise describes. In ordinary human affairs, the act of surmising is not only habitual but also necessary for survival. Precisely defined, surmise means “to infer or conclude from inconclusive or uncertain evidence.” And if you have been up for several hours, it’s likely that you’ve already surmised a hundred times or more.
Looking out the window, let us imagine, you observed dark clouds in a pewter sky, and you surmised that rain was on the way. Feeling an unwonted ache or pain, you surmised its cause. Driving to work, you checked the messages on your cell phone, having surmised that it was safe to do so. And when you took a mid-morning break to chat with fellow workers, quite possibly you did little else than surmise, as you exchanged political opinions or indulged in local gossip.
All this is ordinary human activity. But as the history of the word surmise reveals, the act of surmising can also have a sinister dimension. As recently as the early twentieth century, surmise could mean to accuse, charge, allege, or impugn. And often the word connoted a false or ill-founded accusation. Those who engaged in such activity, consciously or otherwise, were known as surmisers. They were not to be trusted or believed.
A few weeks ago, in the days immediately following the Boston Marathon bombings, our present-day surmisers, armed with the latest technology, were out in force. CNN led the pack, announcing at 1:15 pm on Wednesday that a “dark-skinned” suspect had been identified and at 1:45 that an arrest had been made. Although neither was the case, Fox News, the Associated Press, and the Boston Globe quickly picked up the story, all of them reporting that a suspect was in custody. Soon after, the New York Post, relying on information posted on Reddit, published a front-page photo of two “Bag Men,” who turned out to be an innocent high-school student and his friend. At once foolish and pernicious, ludicrous and libelous, this frenetic activity gave new meaning to “wild surmise,” a phrase coined by the poet John Keats in quite another context.
Don’t believe everything you read. Don’t take anything at face value. Double-check your sources. Revived and remembered, these common-sense imperatives might help to stem the tide of false surmise. But a countervailing force may also be found in an ancient Buddhist practice.
Known as “bare attention,” this practice fosters the skill of being intimately present for our experience. More specifically, it trains the practitioner to dwell in the receptive phase of the cognitive process, prior to conceptual thought. As the Ven. Henepola Gunaratana explains, bare attention “registers experiences, but it does not compare them. It does not label them or categorize them. . . . It is not analysis which is based on reflection and memory. . . . It comes before thought in the perceptual process.” * By closely observing our minds at work, we can become aware, in present-time, of the points where sensory impressions turn into perceptions, perceptions into thoughts, thoughts into conceptions, and conceptions into moral judgments. In short, we can catch our minds in the act of surmising. And with practice, we can also learn to protract the phase of “bare attention,” allowing, in the words of Nyanaponika Thera, “things to speak for themselves, without interruption by final verdicts pronounced too hastily.” **
Those who might wish to explore “bare attention” can find a detailed explanation of the practice in Thera’s The Heart of Buddhist Meditation, a classic Theravadan text. Instruction may also be found online. In contrast to the simplicity of Zen meditation, “bare attention” is a complex mental process, and it is not for everyone. But in my own experience, this practice can complement and augment such Zen-based practices as following the breath and cultivating “objectless” awareness. And in the digital era, where information is both more voluminous and far less filtered than ever before, practicing “bare attention” can provide a potent antidote to instant opinions, mindless speculations, and premature conclusions. Practiced with diligence, it can tame the wild surmiser in oneself.
* Venerable Henepola Gunaratana, Mindfulness in Plain English (Wisdom 1991), 152
** Nyanaponika Thera, The Heart of Buddhist Meditation (Weiser 1988), 35.