The “Planet of Trees” Problem: How One Edit Justifies Them All

By Ajit Krishna Dasa

Argument for changing “planet of trees” to “planet of pitris”:

“Surely no one is claiming that ‘planet of trees’ was Śrīla Prabhupāda’s intended wording. It was clearly a transcription error, not his philosophical statement. The Sanskrit verse itself says pitṝn — meaning the forefathers — so the translation should read ‘planet of Pitṛs.’

Correcting this is not speculation or rewriting Śrīla Prabhupāda’s teachings; it’s simply fixing a typographical mistake introduced by a disciple who misheard or mistyped the word during transcription.

If we refuse to correct even such obvious human errors, then we’re not preserving Śrīla Prabhupāda’s message — we’re preserving someone else’s mistake. Surely Śrīla Prabhupāda would want his books to be accurate and consistent with the Sanskrit, not left with an obvious blunder that misrepresents his meaning.

So why shouldn’t we correct what is demonstrably wrong?”

The Logical Skeleton of the “Planet of Trees” Problem

Let’s define the argument formally and trace the logic step by step.

  1. The Act

    An editor proposes to change the phrase “planet of trees” in Śrīla Prabhupāda’s text.

Let’s denote:

A: the act of editing (in this case, changing “planet of trees”)
P: the principle or justification offered for editing

  1. The Principle (P)

    When asked “Why make this change?”, the editor must appeal to some underlying principle.
    Examples might include:

P₁: To make the text clearer.
P₂: To make it grammatically or factually correct.
P₃: To make it more acceptable to scholars.
P₄: To make it easier for modern readers to understand.

Each of these is a normative principle — a rule about how and why editing is justified.

But behind every such justification lies a network of unspoken assumptions. These assumptions are rarely admitted, but they silently shape the reasoning that allows the change. They are:

  1. Assumption of Superior Understanding: The editor assumes he understands the Sanskrit, the author’s intention, and the correct translation better than the edition Śrīla Prabhupāda personally approved and distributed.
  2. Assumption of Posthumous Authority: It is assumed that one has the right to alter the work of a departed ācārya, even though he explicitly warned against posthumous changes.
  3. Assumption of Editorial Infallibility: The editor presumes that his perception of what is “obviously wrong” is reliable, objective, and free from personal or cultural bias.
  4. Assumption of Legitimate Precedent: It is assumed that this one change will remain isolated — that it will not logically justify further changes made for similar reasons.
  5. Assumption of Empirical Verification: The Sanskrit is treated as an unambiguous, mechanical key to what Śrīla Prabhupāda must have meant, as though his English usage and spiritual purpose can be reduced to literal Sanskrit equivalence.
  6. Assumption of Authorized Reconstruction: The act of posthumous editing is seen not as alteration but as “restoration,” implying that human reconstruction can better represent revelation than the ācārya’s own approved work.
  7. Assumption of Non-Transcendental Editing: The editing and publishing done under Śrīla Prabhupāda’s supervision are assumed to be purely material processes, not sanctified by his approval or by the paramparā principle of transmission.
  8. Assumption of Harmless Intent: It is believed that because the motive is sincere or scholarly, altering the guru’s words cannot be spiritually harmful.
  9. Assumption of Human-Centric Epistemology: Truth is viewed as something improved by human refinement and correction rather than preserved by faithful hearing and transmission.
  10. Assumption of Continuity Through Change: It is presumed that one can modify the form of revelation while maintaining the same authority — that textual alteration does not alter metaphysical authenticity.

Each of these assumptions is philosophically weighty. Together they invert the traditional hierarchy of authority: revelation is no longer the standard to which the human intellect submits, but the raw material upon which the intellect exercises control.

  1. The Universalizability Test

    A principle, once invoked, cannot rationally be restricted to one case unless there is an additional principle that limits it.

So, if we accept P₁: “We may change the text to make it clearer,” then that principle must logically apply to all cases where the editor believes clarity could be improved.

This is the universalization of P₁.

It follows from the principle of consistency — that identical reasons must yield identical permissions in identical types of cases.

  1. The Problem of Subjectivity

    Now, terms like “clarity,” “correctness,” and “scholarly acceptance” are subjective when judged by material standards. There exists no empirical or linguistic rule by which such clarity can be objectively verified in spiritual literature.

The only true standard of clarity is the revealed principle that transcendental sound must be preserved exactly as spoken by the realized soul. Therefore, applying P₁ or P₂ based on academic or personal judgment replaces revealed authority with subjective interpretation.

That judgment is fallible, culturally conditioned, and limited by material perspective.

So: P₁ ⇒ subjective authority replaces divine authority.

Slippery Slope Formalized

We can now model the chain of reasoning:

1) Accept A₁: “Change planet of trees for clarity.”
2) This implies acceptance of P₁: “We may change anything that increases clarity.”
3) By universalizability, P₁ applies to any word, sentence, or concept.
4)The editor, being the judge of clarity, now possesses implicit interpretive authority.
5) The distinction between “editor” and “author” dissolves in principle.

Therefore: A₁ ⇒ authorization of all Aₙ justified by the same principle.

This is the essence of the slippery slope — not a mere rhetorical trope, but a logical entailment: once the normative justification for one action applies equally to more consequential actions, those actions are justified in principle unless an independent limiting condition is introduced.

  1. The Limiting Condition Problem

    To halt the slope, one must introduce a limiting condition — a new premise L that restricts P₁.
    For example: L: “We may only edit obviously mistaken phrases like “planet of trees”, but not others.”

However, L itself must be justified by a new principle Pᴸ.
If Pᴸ lacks independent justification, it is arbitrary.
And arbitrary limits collapse under rational scrutiny.

Thus, unless one can show a non-arbitrary, divinely sanctioned, epistemically objective boundary between “permissible correction” and “impermissible alteration,” the permission to change anything for clarity logically includes permission to change everything for clarity.

  1. The Transcendental Counterprinciple

    The only consistent way to avoid the slope is to affirm an opposite axiom:

P*: The author’s words are inviolable, as they carry transcendental authority.

Here, clarity is not improved by editing the text, but by purifying the reader’s consciousness. This inverts the premise entirely: instead of adjusting revelation to fit human comprehension, the human must adjust his comprehension to fit revelation.

  1. Conclusion

    The argument against even changing “planet of trees” is not fanaticism — it is philosophical consistency. Because once you accept a humanly defined justification for altering revealed speech, you’ve imported a subjective epistemology into a domain that claims divine origin. That is not editing — it’s epistemic rebellion disguised as scholarship.