Ajivika thought of life as a tightly wound clock, each soul’s journey governed entirely by niyati, or fate. No amount of meditation or ritual could nudge destiny’s gears. Buddhists and Jains, on the other hand, built their paths around moral agency. For them, every intention, every action, planted seeds of karma that blossomed in future lives. Ajivikas shrugged off karma as irrelevant—everything was preordained, like a novel already written before the first word was penned.

Where the Buddha taught the Middle Way—avoiding both extreme self-indulgence and harsh self-mortification—Ajivika ascetics embraced rigorous austerities to the hilt, believing that such discipline merely aligned the body with the script fate had laid out. Jain monks chased purification of karma particles through non-violence and strict vegetarianism; Ajivikas treated dietary laws as equally scripted, not moral choices. A Jain might pause to save an insect; an Ajivika would accept the insect’s fate as fixed, much like their own.

Ethical conduct, in Buddhist and Jain eyes, was a dynamic field—choices mattered, intentions shaped outcomes. Ajivikas viewed ethics more as spectators in the grand play of the universe. While early Buddhism championed compassion as the antidote to suffering, and Jainism upheld celibacy and non-possession as gateways to liberation, Ajivika followers found solace in surrender: everything was as it must be.

This hard determinism feels oddly at home in 21st-century debates around AI and free will. Much like some modern tech enthusiasts arguing that algorithms dictate human behavior, Ajivikas placed ultimate trust in cosmic programming. Yet today’s scientific strides in quantum mechanics offer a counterpoint, suggesting the universe might not be as scripted as once thought. Thinking back to those ancient teachers, it’s fascinating how debates about destiny, choice, and accountability continue to stir hearts and minds across millennia.