Meditating Beyond the Benevolent Dictator
Coming Soon…
“I'm not a Pāḷi scholar, but I am an amateur Pāḷi reader… a lover of the suttas,” says Jonathan Crowley, a former longtime practitioner and assistant teacher in the Goenka Vipassana tradition. In this, the 7th in a series of conversations with Jonathan, he again reflects on his relationship with a system that shaped his life for decades, this time focusing on more discreet elements of Goenka’s teaching and the issue of fundamentalism.
While he reiterates how deeply the practice helped him, and how profoundly the retreats shaped his understanding of himself and of the Dhamma, he came to realize that this version of the path was limited and limiting. He talks about why so many practitioners flourish for a time and then, like he eventually did, reach a barrier they had not anticipated, and come to a spiritual plateau.
Reviewing how he first got involved with the tradition, which he described in earlier interviews, Jonathan how much he appreciated the silence, structure, and the possibility of transformation that the organization offered. For many years he practiced sincerely, sat long retreats, served continuously, and eventually accepted the role of assistant teacher. During that period, he believed he was participating in something complete and sufficient—what Goenka characterized as a pristine technique capable of carrying a diligent student all the way to liberation. The framework seemed internally consistent; the emotional rewards of early practice were real; and the environment strongly encouraged the belief that no other teachings or other types of development were necessary. Yet he now sees how this mixture of benefit and certainty allowed him to accept the limits of the system… all without ever realizing they were limits.
One of the first dissonances appeared when he began reading Pāḷi more directly. This did not happen early in his training, because the culture at Goenka centers discourages students from exploring outside sources, believing that too much intellectual inquiry would distract from experiential practice. Only after he stepped back from the organization did he begin to see how central elements of the Dhamma—vedanā, saṅkhāra, jhāna—were interpreted narrowly or incompletely within the tradition. His present reflections emphasize how these differences mattered. Vedanā, for instance, is defined by Goenka almost exclusively as physical bodily sensation, even though in the Pāḷi Canon, the term is clearly defined as the affective tone of experience, and part of the Mind. Saṅkhāra was treated as a reactive knot in the mind, rather than the broad field of conditioned formations, as described in the suttas and Commentaries. And most significantly, the deep absorption states known as jhāna—explicitly described by the Buddha as the foundation for insight—are omitted entirely in the ten day and even longer courses.
Jonathan remembers how this omission shaped the expectations of long-course students. They were encouraged to believe that deep practice would unfold naturally if they kept returning to the sensations on the body with equanimity, and that this alone would eventually stabilize the mind enough to reveal the stages of insight. But without strong samādhi, he found that, for him, the clarity needed to move into these deeper strata of experience never arose.
Simply put, Jonathan observes that the technique essentially asked students to progress through terrain that, in his understanding of the Canon, requires capacities the Goenka methodology does not adequately cultivate. He states plainly, “There are aspects of the practice that inhibit future development on the Path.” Comparing his experience now practicing under a different teacher with the plateau he experienced after decades in Goenka’s system, he reflects on how different forms of instruction can more effectively set students up for success. He notes that many former Goenka students have reported similar struggles with concentration, stability, and subtlety after hitting a wall under Goenka and moving on to other traditions.
This doctrinal narrowing links directly to another major conversation theme: the culture of fundamentalism that has developed in the tradition. Jonathan stresses that fundamentalism is not just one extreme position, but rather a spectrum of behaviors and beliefs, and in his experience, the Goenka community contains people across that spectrum. But certain structural features, he explains, encourage a kind of cognitive closure: absolute reverence for a single teacher, discouragement of outside perspectives, the belief in the tradition’s “pristine purity” that requires uniformity, and the subtle messaging that questioning the framework is itself a sign of confusion or indicative of a lack of development. These cultural elements, he notes, shape the psychology of practitioners over time. They foster black-and-white thinking, a resistance to change, and a gradual loss of confidence in personal discernment. He describes how he and others internalized the idea that critical thinking was not only unnecessary but spiritually dangerous.
Jonathan connects this dynamic with a deeper psychological element he can now identify in ways that were invisible to him when he was in the middle of it: bypassing. Many practitioners, including himself, entered intensive meditation with unresolved trauma or difficult emotional histories. The practice offered relief, discipline, and a sense of purpose. But because the tradition claims that meditation and the cultivation of equanimity will act as a kind of panacea to cure all worldly ills, he downplayed the legitimacy of therapy and emotional processing, and deeper wounds remained unaddressed. Jonathan recognizes that the culture subtly reinforced this avoidance. In hindsight, he sees how this orientation attracts people who gravitate towards certainty-based systems to avoid messier forms of self-understanding. When he says, “Fundamentalism shelters unexamined trauma and gives students a sense of surety that replaces real growth,” he does not mean to cast aspersions, but simply describes a psychological refuge he once inhabited himself.
The third thread that Jonathan examines is the organizational logic behind the tradition’s strict boundaries. He highlights an oft-heard word in the Goenka tradition: confusion. From the organization’s point of view, “confusion” arises when students expose themselves to multiple frameworks, thereby diluting the technique and undermining progress. This is the reason given for why the system discourages discussions, forbids sutta study groups, restricts what can be read at centers, and even “punishes” students for engaging with outside material by restricting long course access, marginalization, and being blocked (or removed) from leadership positions. The belief is that insight comes from sustained, exclusive immersion in bodily sensations and equanimity, and that mixing perspectives creates internal conflict that slows or stops progress. Jonathan sees that this fear of confusion is rooted not in malice, but in a worldview that assumes a single technique is both complete and delicate. But the effect is the same regardless of intention: students lose the freedom to think, explore, and integrate.
Jonathan describes how this dynamic intensifies when a student begins sitting long courses. The application itself asks for a commitment to Goenka as the sole teacher. Once a student completes a 30-day course, the organization begins to view them as a potential representative—manager, trustee, committee member. That new identity comes with subtle pressure to embody and defend the purity narrative. The more a student participates, the more their sense of belonging depends on conforming, and the more costly it becomes to question. Jonathan sees this clearly now as he describes how long-course culture shapes agency. The student’s path, once private and exploratory, becomes increasingly externalized: the number of courses, hours of service, and organizational roles become unconscious measures of spiritual worth. Meanwhile, the opportunities to speak openly about obstacles shrink. Silence, originally a technique for deepening meditation, becomes a social requirement, and equanimity, originally a mental state, becomes a behavioral expectation that discourages emotional honesty.
This progressive narrowing means that when doubts appear, the student faces an existential rupture: questioning the technique means questioning the community, the identity, and the sense of purpose built around it. Jonathan remembers how difficult it was for him to take the first steps away, knowing the loss of role and belonging that would follow. Many practitioners he has observed face the same conflict. They do not lack sincerity; they simply do not have permission to articulate what they are experiencing.
For Jonathan, reform is theoretically possible but structurally difficult. He speaks about colleagues within the tradition who hope to broaden the culture from within, to allow for dialog, therapy, doctrinal study, and more nuanced understanding. He respects their efforts and hopes they succeed. But he also knows that the very norms they are trying to change—silence, purity, exclusivity, and reverence for a single teacher—are the same norms that prevent change. He believes that real reform would require acknowledging fundamentalism openly, reintroducing investigative elements of the path, and allowing teachers to give real discourses rather than simply pushing “play” for Goenka’s recorded audio talks. These changes would challenge the tradition’s core identity, but he feels they are necessary if the practice is to support practitioners beyond the initial stages.
In returning to his own experience, Jonathan speaks with warmth about what he gained from the tradition. He recognizes the transformation the practice brought into his life, the discipline it cultivated, and the commitment it inspired. But he also acknowledges that continued genuine growth requires stepping outside boundaries he once considered unbreakable. He understands now that silence is valuable in its place but becomes harmful when used to suppress inquiry. Equanimity is essential on the cushion but becomes distortive when used to avoid emotion. Devotion is meaningful but becomes limiting when it eclipses the wider field of the Buddha’s teachings.
He hopes that his reflections can offer a kind of permission to others—not permission to leave, but permission to think. As he says near the end of the discussion, “I hope these conversations give permission for others to explore a broader experience of the Dhamma… This conversation is never over.”
In case you missed it, here are the previous episodes:
Part 1: Jonathan opens by tracing the beginnings of his spiritual life, rooted in his early encounters with Vipassana meditation in the Goenka tradition. Disillusioned with conventional schooling and pulled toward a simpler way of living, he describes how his first retreat shook him to the core — stripping away old assumptions, reshaping his sense of identity, and giving him a radically new way to see himself and the world.
Part 2: He then moves into his years living and serving at a meditation center. Jonathan talks about the strange mix of challenge and fulfillment that comes with dismantling one’s own identity while trying to support the growth of others. Through intensive practice, he found insights that felt like peeling back layer after layer of the self — a process both destabilizing and deeply meaningful, all framed through Goenka’s particular interpretation of the Dhamma.
Part 3: From there, Jonathan turns to his shift from practitioner to teacher. He reflects on the weight of responsibility that comes with guiding students through intense and often life-altering experiences. The role forced him to examine the complexities of authority, devotion, and identity inside the tradition — and how teaching can transform a person as much as meditation itself.
Part 4: Jonathan then recounts how time spent in Myanmar exposed him to a much wider Buddhist landscape. Immersing himself in other lineages and cultural expressions of practice complicated the tidy worldview he’d formed under Goenka’s system. Those encounters broadened and deepened his understanding of the Dhamma, revealing both the richness and the limits of the framework he’d inherited.
Part 5: Finally, he addresses the organizational culture surrounding Goenka’s movement. Jonathan speaks candidly about its anti-intellectual streak, its resistance to criticism, and its tendency to use “ultimate concepts” — such as the idea of a perfectly pure Dhamma — to shut down open discussion. In his view, these dynamics stifle reflection and make honest dialogue difficult, even among committed practitioners.
Part 6: Jonathan explains the circumstances that led him and his wife, Carolyn, to leave the Goenka organization. The turning point came in 2020, when the tradition’s silence around racial injustice highlighted deeper patterns of avoidance, hierarchy, and resistance to honest dialogue. A letter they sent to senior teachers received almost no response, revealing how closed the system had become. Jonathan describes the grief of stepping away from a community that had shaped his entire adult life, but also the clarity that emerged as his own practice began evolving beyond the tradition’s rigid boundaries. His departure reflects both disillusionment and gratitude — a recognition that integrity sometimes requires moving on, even from something that once felt like home.