In the first sermon, Buddha introduced the framework that leads to Nirvana and it is commonly known as the 8 Noble Path. This was taught under the Fourth Noble Truth. I call it a framework because it is very brief—possibly because the Buddha was addressing the five ascetics, who might have already been familiar with basic moral principles.

Consequently, people often ask: “What is considered Right Action?” Buddha did elaborate on this at a later date. Clearly, even 3,000 years ago, newcomers had the same question.

“And what, monks, is right action? Abstaining from taking life, abstaining from stealing, abstaining from unchastity: This, monks, is called right action.”
(Magga-vibhanga Sutta: An Analysis of the Path)

Rather than giving a long moral list, the Buddha offered three essential prohibitions. These are because such actions generate bad karma, which leads to unfortunate rebirths. The reasoning behind why these specific actions have such consequences has been discussed in other posts, so I won’t go into detail here. But know this: abstaining from these three actions brings profound benefits—both in this life and the next.

To deepen our understanding, we should remember that each aspect of the Eightfold Path is not mutually exclusive. Instead, it’s a holistic approach—each factor supports and enhances the others. So, when our actions are guided by Right Intent, they naturally become Right Actions.

Therefore, any action not driven by craving, ill-will, or the intent to harm can be considered “alright.” And of course, we should avoid killing, stealing, and sexual misconduct.

Often, we’re faced with moral dilemmas because life presents many gray areas. For instance, people ask:
“Shouldn’t we kill a man who is about to murder everyone on a plane?”

A well-known Mahayana Buddhist story comes to mind. It tells of a Bodhisattva—often identified as Captain Great Compassionate—who confronts a robber aboard a ship. The robber plans to murder all the passengers and steal their belongings. Realizing the immense suffering this would cause to both the victims and the robber (due to the karmic consequences), the Bodhisattva chooses to kill the robber. This act, though violent, is viewed as a skillful means (upaya), motivated by compassion and wisdom.

However, it’s worth noting that this story appears in Buddhist literature centuries after the Buddha’s Parinirvana.

I recall discussing this story with friends after hearing it in a lecture. Unsurprisingly, when I steered the conversation toward issues like Buddhist oppression and Dharma suppression, a few responded with near-fanatical intensity. This reaction made me cautious. In my view, such later teachings can be dangerous if not approached critically.

In religious settings, many of us tend to absorb teachings without much questioning. I’ve heard this story told at least twice, and no one ever asked the teacher: “Was killing really the only option in this scenario?” It’s a hundred people against one robber—surely, they could overpower him? If we need to justify the killing, perhaps the story needs to be made more complex to sell that point. But as it stands, it seems to promote the justification of killing a potential criminal—the robber hadn’t harmed anyone yet; the Bodhisattva killed him to prevent a crime.

From this perspective, it’s easy to see how the focus subtly shifts:
When is killing justifiable?
When is it considered Right Action?

But once our minds start working in that direction, we are simply training ourselves to find reasons to justify killing. And that, to me, is a form of fanaticism. It’s dangerous. And it’s not aligned with the Buddhist path.

Let’s turn back to what truly matters—Right Intent. When we prioritize non-harming as our central intent, our questions change. Instead of asking, “Is it okay to kill this person to prevent a tragedy?”, we ask, “How can we prevent the tragedy without resorting to killing?”

That, I believe, is a far more holistic—and truly Buddhist—approach.

May all beings be well and happy.