Tetralemma (catuṣkoṭi)

What is a tetralemma or catuṣkoṭi?

The catuṣkoṭi (tetralemma) is a way of thinking from Indian and Buddhist philosophy that helps us explore all possible ways to look at a question or statement. Instead of just saying something is either “true” or “false,” it opens up four possibilities:

1. It is true: The statement is correct.

2. It is false: The statement is wrong.

3. It is both true and false: The statement can be true in some ways and false in others.

4. It is neither true nor false: The statement doesn’t fit into either category.

It is a significant tool in informal logic, particularly in Buddhist thought, and challenges the binary logic of “true” or “false” by introducing additional possibilities.

Although the framework is especially associated with the Madhyamaka school of Buddhism, founded by Nāgārjuna, its earliest traces can be found in the Nasadiya Sukta of the Rigveda.

In particular, the text speculates on the origins of existence using a precursor to the formalized tetralemma to explore possibilities such as “it exists,” “it does not exist,” “it both exists and does not exist,” and “neither exists nor does not exist”.

It really shows how Indian thinkers were engaging with complex ontological questions long before the development of formal Western logic.

How to apply it in everyday life

Here are some ways how understanding this distinction can impact various aspects of our daily lives:

Decision-making

In daily life, decisions are often framed as binary choices (e.g., “Should I take this job or not?”). The tetralemma encourages exploring additional possibilities:

• Both options: Could aspects of both choices coexist? For example, working part-time while pursuing another opportunity.

• Neither option: Is there a third path entirely outside the initial options? Perhaps starting a new venture instead of choosing between two job offers.
This approach helps avoid the “either-or” fallacy and fosters creative solutions

Encountering paradoxes

Knowing the difference between cause and reason can improve the way we communicate. When someone behaves in a certain way, we might be quick to attribute it to a cause—like they were tired or stressed.

However, if we consider the reasons behind their actions, we might develop a deeper understanding of their motivations and intentions, leading to more empathetic and effective communication.

For instance, if a friend snaps at you, the cause might be their lack of sleep, but the reason might be their worry about a family member's health.

Challenging notions of identity and existence

Adapting from the initial argument posed in Nāgārjuna’s work, the Mūlamadhyamakakārikā (MMK), consider a flame that has been extinguished. If someone asks, “Where did the flame go? Does it still exist somewhere, or has it disappeared entirely?"

At first, this seems like a straightforward question, but Nāgārjuna would say the question itself is based on a misunderstanding. Why? Because it assumes that the flame was an independent thing that could either “exist” or “not exist” on its own. Nāgārjuna explains that the flame didn’t have a fixed, separate existence—it was always dependent on certain conditions, like the candle wax, oxygen, and heat. When those conditions changed (e.g., the wax ran out or the wind blew), the flame stopped. So asking “where it went” doesn’t make sense because the flame was never a permanent, standalone thing in the first place.

The catuṣkoṭi can analyze this question about the flame through four possibilities:

1. The flame exists: This doesn’t work because the flame is clearly gone.

2. The flame does not exist: This also doesn’t fully work because the flame wasn’t a separate thing—it was part of a process dependent on conditions.

3. The flame both exists and does not exist: This might seem contradictory, but it reflects how the flame existed in one sense (as part of a process) but doesn’t exist now as an independent object.

4. The flame neither exists nor does not exist: This points to how our usual categories of “existence” and “non-existence” don’t really apply to something like a flame, which is always interconnected with other factors.

This example invites us to reflect on how we think about ourselves and others by challenging the idea that we—or anything else—have a fixed, unchanging identity. Just like the flame, we are not independent or permanent “things.” Instead, we exist as part of a web of conditions and relationships that are always changing such as our upbringing, environment, relationships, and experiences. When those factors change, so do we.

It also suggests that identity is fluid and interconnected with everything else. From this, we can learn that:

• We don’t have to cling to rigid ideas about “who we are.” If you feel stuck in an identity (e.g., “I’m not good at this” or “I’m always this kind of person”), you can recognize that you’re always changing and have the potential to grow.

• We can let go of seeing others as fixed or unchangeable. This opens up space for forgiveness, understanding, and seeing people in a broader context.

In this way, this perspective helps us approach life with more openness, flexibility, and compassion—for ourselves and for others.

Key considerations and takeaways

Applying the tetralemma effectively requires a nuanced understanding and careful consideration.

Here are some tips and considerations to keep in mind:

When exploring philosophy, it’s important to be aware of how historical biases have shaped the way ideas from different cultures are understood and valued.

During colonial times, many scholars from Europe compared Indian philosophy, like the catuṣkoṭi, to Greek philosophy. But instead of treating them as equally valid systems of thought, they often described Indian ideas as “exotic,” less logical, or less advanced.

This was part of a larger Eurocentric way of thinking that treated Western ideas—like Aristotle’s logic—as the universal standard, while dismissing other world philosophies as strange or secondary.

Not only it leads to misunderstandings, but such attitudes also ignores the depth and orginiality of the traditions of thought. This is why when we practise philosophy today, it is important to approach all philosophies on their own terms.

In other words, don’t judge one culture’s ideas by another culture’s rules. Every tradition has its own strengths and should be respected for what it contributes to our understanding of the world.

Understanding context and purpose

The catuṣkoṭi is not just a logical framework but also a philosophical tool deeply rooted in Buddhist thought, particularly Nāgārjuna’s Madhyamaka philosophy. It was designed to challenge rigid conceptual categories and reveal the limitations of conventional reasoning.

Its ultimate goal is not merely to classify propositions but to point toward a deeper understanding of reality, particularly the concept of śūnyatā (emptiness), which emphasizes the interdependent and non-fixed nature of phenomena.

Therefore, ignoring its metaphysical context (e.g., śūnyatā) and treating as a purely formal logical system can lead to oversimplification or misinterpretation of its purpose.

Exhaustive and mutually exclusive possibilities

The four possibilities (true, false, both true and false, neither true nor false) are meant to be exhaustive—covering all logical options—and mutually exclusive, meaning no two can hold at the same time for any given proposition.

Avoid seeking definitive answers

The catuṣkoṭi is not meant to provide definitive answers but to open up space for inquiry and reflection. Rigidly applying it as if it always leads to one clear “truth” misses its purpose of questioning fixed views.

For example, Nāgārjuna often uses the catuṣkoṭi to show that none of the four possibilities may hold in certain cases, highlighting the inadequacy of conceptual frameworks themselves.