I sat down next to the young monks in red robes, their heads freshly shaven, as we gathered in a temple in central Bhutan. The temple was adorned with vibrant ornaments and intricate Buddhist paintings. What once seemed to me strange and almost intimidating now began to feel deeply alive, stimulating my senses with its beauty and mystery.
The students unrolled their Bhutanese longitudinal scripts—traditional manuscripts made from long strips of paper inscribed with sacred texts—while their teacher instructed them on how to recite the Diamond Sutra. This text is one of the most influential sutras in the Mahayana tradition, especially significant in East Asia and particularly central to Chan (or Zen) Buddhism. A guide sitting beside me translated the teacher’s words: “You must synchronize your drum with the third syllable of each verse.” The students nodded patiently, their focus unwavering.
Around 200 students were in the midst of a three-year foundational course to begin their Buddhist practice, The head monk later explained this to me amidst the student’s echoes of traditional Bhutanese horns. Many of these young monks would eventually continue their studies at larger monasteries across Bhutan, where they would delve deeper into their practice.
This experience was one of my favorite moments from my ten-day journey through Bhutan. As a follower of Buddhism myself, visiting this monastery opened up a world so foreign, yet so rich and full of potential to me. I’ve always had the intention of secluding myself for a few months for an immersive monastic experience, and I knew this journey was a small glimpse of that path.
I asked the monk what it would take to study Dzogchen in Bhutan. Dzogchen, one of the branches of Tibetan Buddhism, has always resonated with me for its focus on spontaneous and effortless awareness. The monk paused first skeptically, and after a few seconds of silemce, said, “Dzogchen is one of our highest and most direct paths of spiritual practice. It is available only after at least six years of monastic study.”
He also warned me about monks who offer fast-track teachings tailored to foreigners, calling them unserious and cautioning that these diluted versions lack the depth of authentic teachings. “The right path,” he said, “is to spend at least two years in seclusion, meditating in a cave, before you are ready to study with the true teachers.”
Something stirred within me at that moment. I had previously read the works of western teachers like Michael Singer, Alan Watts, and Adyashanti. Studying in a monastery in the east seemed like the natural next step to deepen my practice. Yet, I knew that my life was not compatible with the monk’s recommendation. The students I saw were fully committed, but I couldn’t help but wonder—what about young urban Bhutanese who’d like to learn about their ancestors traditions? Surely, some of them would feel this tension as well.
And surely, there is a lot to learn. Bhutan is considered the last bastion of Tibetan Buddhism. The country has done a lot to preserve its tradition and heritage. Bhutan’s approach to tourism—requiring all visitors to have a guide and imposing a daily visa fee—has helped protect its traditions. Not that the guides are not there to control you; in fact, you can travel largely independently as long as your guide knows your whereabouts.
However, Bhutan is also changing, and rapidly so. Just two generations ago, Bhutan was a subsistence farming society with an oral culture. Today, it is transitioning into a largely urban, consumer-driven society with pervasive social media and audio-visual culture. Nearly two-thirds of Bhutanese now use social media, a steep change from the country’s ban on television and internet up until 1999. Astonishingly, Bhutan also boasts the highest per capita use of ChatGPT in the world — 16% of its population uses it. As Karma Phuntsho puts it, Bhutan is filled with young, energetic, and impressionable people, making the country highly susceptible to external influences.
So how will this millennia-old tradition fare in the face of modernization and digitalization? On one hand, studying the traditional path takes time. It not just about the requirement of sitting for two years in a cave. The practice includes complex rituals involving mandalas, mantras, visualizations, and hand gestures—activities that require years of dedicated learning. When performed correctly, these rituals engage the subconscious mind and harness its ability to create and dissolve forms at will, leading to a deeper psychological transformation than mere intellectual study could achieve.
But the attention span of the younger generation is dwindling. It’s hard enough to read books when social media is more engaging. And devotion relies not only on mental discipline but also on social signaling. In a world of increasing optionality, a Bhutanese adolescent might not choose the monastic life unless their friends do the same. That is a tall order—and perhaps too many preconditions to be accessible to the urban youth.
As Chholay Dorji notes, many Bhutanese increasingly see traditional Buddhism as purely ritualistic. It risks being viewed as little more than a spectacle, rather than a practical spiritual path accessible to those who seek enlightenment.
This challenge is not unique to Bhutan. Religion and spirituality face mounting challenges in the face of modernization across the world. Christianity, for instance, has had its own struggle with modernity — including initially on an institutional level. Traditions of all shapes struggle to keep pace with how technology shapes the impressionable minds of younger generations.
Will the Buddhist monks of Bhutan adapt their teachings to the winds of change? Only time will tell. In my humble opinion, opening up a more accessible, less devotion-heavy monastic path might help Buddhism adjust to modernity, even if some elements are lost in the process. This adaptation could help preserve the link between generations, and open its rich and wonderful world to aspiring students like me, making the teachings more approachable and relevant for our times.
