The situation for Indian Psychology (IP) is more complex. IP is rooted in a radically different understanding of reality than the one which gave rise to mainstream psychology. This makes it difficult for us, proud citizens of the new global civilization, to understand IP, as not only our entire formal education, but increasingly even our upbringing and our work and home environments are steeped in the “modern”, physicalist worldview. Whether it is because of the lingering dominance of Euro-American influence, or because we are in the darkest hours of the kaliyuga, almost all of us, and perhaps especially the well-educated leaders of the scientific community, tend to see the world as primarily material. Morgan et al.’s still widely used Introduction to Psychology (1993, p. 38) admonishes us “not [to] forget that we are a species of animal”, and we obey: at least as scientists, we see ourselves first and foremost as biology-driven animals. We take consciousness as a product of the workings of the brain, and in spite of all humanistic, transpersonal and post-modern efforts, we still look at religion, morals and love as “the trouble” (Watson, 1929). Obviously, the authors of the Rig Veda and the early Upanishads did not share our way of looking at the world. They looked at the world as a manifestation of consciousness (brahman, sachchidananda) and asserted that an individual’s Self is one with the Self of the universe. It is hard to exaggerate how deeply Infinity permeated their understanding of reality, and thus, how difficult it is for us, who live in a much more fragmented surface consciousness, to really understand what they meant with their assertions. Rather significantly, the Indian tradition did not include psychology in the list of sciences (like metallurgy and economics), which could be understood from within the ordinary, dualistic knowledge, avidya. They held that the Self could only be known through vidya, the intrinsically true, non-dual knowledge they had found beyond the ordinary mind. In other words, the essential core of IP is rooted in non-dual knowledge, and so, to get a realistic grasp of IP, one needs to have access to this type of knowing. From within the ordinary mind, one can at most manipulate the assertions of IP in the speculative manner of philosophy, but to understand them in the detailed, concrete manner of science, to turn them into know-how that can be developed further, one has to master the non-dual knowledge of vidya. This is not easy, and while everyone can gain from asanas and mindfulness, to study the inner depths of IP requires a sustained inner effort, tapasya. So, IP is not for everyone. In itself this does not go against it. Physics and mathematics cannot be understood by everyone either. But it may preclude quick and widespread adoption within the scientific community.

There are several factors that complicate the situation for IP on a more pragmatic, tactical level. The first is perhaps that IP deals with issues that in our present world order are generally taken as part of religion: issues like the existence of non-physical “worlds”, life after death, reincarnation, the soul, our relation to the Divine, and so on. That IP tries to deal with these issues with all the intellectual rectitude and rigour of science does not diminish that fact that for most people these issues are a matter of religious belief, and with that of deeply held emotional attachments. Another obstacle is created by the name “Indian Psychology”. It is a name that needs explanation every time it is used (Prof. Ramakrishna Rao devotes no less than seven paragraphs to it!) and it continues to court controversy due to its associations with various forms of Indian nationalism. For an approach to science with claims of universality, this is a problematic encumbrance.

As for the use of “mutual reinforcement”, I agree that both IP and the other members of the psychology community would gain from more interaction, but I would not like to limit it to PP. I’d rather expand it towards other disciplines: the social sciences, humanities, medicine, physics, and of course philosophy. How useful the interaction is depends, however, on how it is done. Prof. Ramakrishna Rao advocates two movements: theory to go from IP to PP; methodology from PP to IP.

Logically speaking, the consciousness-based foundation of IP should be capable of providing a more coherent and fruitful framework for psychology than the material basis of mainstream psychology. IP may also be able to provide specific, well-integrated theories that could inform many areas of psychology, but such cross-cultural “transfers” have to be undertaken with extreme care and a thoroughness that I’m not sure IP is ready for. Offering what is true according to a scripture or personality, however great, without sufficient respect for existing studies, which have been found true and effective within their own context, is bound to provoke well-deserved antagonism. And if the effort lacks sufficient depth and rigour, one risks the type of conceptual confusion that has blighted transpersonal psychology and some of Ken Wilber’s work (Ferrer 2002).

The other way around, inviting PP’s methodological prowess to reinforce IP is perhaps even more problematic. The research methods PP uses have already been applied to yoga and meditation on quite a large scale (see Murphy & Donovan, 1997; Sedlmeier et al. 2012), but studies of this type can only tell whether yoga and meditation work. They cannot help to find out how they work, and they cannot help to develop them further (Walsh & Shapiro, 2006). To study the inner processes at work in yoga and meditation, one needs research methods that are fit for purpose, and to find those, one has to dive deep into the Indian tradition itself. Just as to study physics, one has to use equipment that has been made with the specialised knowledge and know-how that arises from physics itself, so to study yoga, one has to use methods that arise out of the yoga and meditation traditions. To develop those methods is, again, not easy; it demands endless patience, dedication and persistence, and the whole process will take time, but in my humble opinion it is the only effective way forward for IP (Cornelissen, 2006).

To end, I’d like to make a short remark on “success”. If Humanistic Psychology is less heard of now than 40 years ago, does that really mean that it has not been successful? Could it not be that once the message has been delivered, the messenger can be forgotten? Could it not be that the most impressive sign of PP’s success would not be its persistence as a separate school, but an increased attention within the mainstream for issues like happiness, well-being, skilful living and flow? For me, the final sign of success for IP would not be that its name would be on everybody’s lips, but that the essence of its worldview, its research methodologies, its master theories, and its methods for increasing individual and collective happiness and harmony would find a wider adaptation within the mainstream.