Alan Watts’s On the Taboo Against Knowing Who You Are often gets tagged as brilliant and breezy—but it doesn’t skate by without a few raised eyebrows. The first critique centers on cultural appropriation. Pulling from Vedanta, Zen and Taoism like an all-you-can-eat buffet, the text can feel light on context. A handful of scholars and traditional practitioners point out that Watts sometimes smooths over centuries of nuanced debate, turning intricate doctrines into sound bites.

Then there’s the matter of scholarly rigor. Watts wasn’t a credentialed Indologist, and that showman’s flair—while entertaining—occasionally trips over slippery definitions. Terms such as “Atman” or “Maya” get tossed around with poetic license, leaving some readers wondering what precisely remains of their original meaning. Academic critics see this as glossing rather than genuine synthesis.

Another flashpoint? Practicality versus paradox. The book delights in paradox—self is no-self, the knower and the known are identical—but offers little in the way of step-by-step guidance. Today’s mindfulness apps face similar pushback: lots of sparkly insight, fewer tools for the day-to-day grind. A quick scroll through social media reveals spiritual influencers echoing Watts’s style, yet modern audiences often crave clearer roadmaps.

Finally, there’s the risk of nihilism. By insisting “you” are an illusion, some readers tumble into a sense of meaninglessness. When life’s fast pace—TikTok trends, meme culture, even AI-generated meditations—demands quick fixes, deep philosophical puzzles can feel like being asked to read Tolstoy in a tweet.

Despite these controversies, many still find Watts’s weaving of East and West irresistible. The book may not please every pedant or purist, but its invitation to peek behind the curtain of self remains as provocative today as it was fifty years ago.