Many of the controversies surrounding the text begin with its very name and the way it entered Western awareness. The familiar title “Tibetan Book of the Dead” is a Western coinage, modeled on the Egyptian Book of the Dead, and does not reflect the original Tibetan title, which speaks of “liberation through hearing in the intermediate state.” This has encouraged readers to treat it as a single, definitive manual on death and the afterlife, rather than as one ritual text within a specific lineage. Early translations, especially those influenced by Western esoteric and theosophical ideas, often rendered key terms freely and interpretively, overlaying foreign concepts onto Tibetan Buddhist teachings. As a result, many scholars and practitioners argue that such translations distort the doctrinal content and give a misleading picture of Tibetan views on death and rebirth.

There is also debate about how representative and authoritative the text truly is within Tibetan Buddhism. It belongs to the Nyingma tradition and is part of a treasure cycle revealed by Karma Lingpa, so its status is not identical across all Tibetan schools. Some lineages revere it deeply, while others place less emphasis on it or favor different ritual and doctrinal approaches to death and the intermediate states. This has led to internal discussions among Tibetan scholars about which versions are most authentic and how literally its visionary descriptions should be understood. The question of authorship and historical origin—especially the traditional attribution to Padmasambhava—remains a point of contention in both academic and religious circles.

Another cluster of criticisms concerns the way the text has been received and used outside its native context. In many Western settings it has been popularized, simplified, and sometimes sensationalized, with dramatic imagery highlighted and the broader Buddhist framework largely set aside. It is frequently treated as a general spiritual or psychological manual, or absorbed into New Age currents, in ways that diverge from its original ritual function as a guide recited by trained practitioners for the dying or the deceased. Some Tibetan teachers and scholars see this as a form of cultural appropriation and commercialization, in which a complex religious text is detached from its ethical, initiatory, and communal setting and marketed as exotic wisdom.

Finally, there are practical and philosophical questions about how, and for whom, the text should be applied. The work is esoteric in nature and presupposes a certain level of preparation; this raises doubts about its effectiveness for those without training in the associated practices. Even within Tibetan circles, there are differing views on whether detailed guidance through post‑mortem states is truly beneficial for ordinary practitioners, or whether spiritual preparation during life is more crucial than focusing on specific bardo scenarios. These debates, taken together, show a text that stands at the crossroads of devotion and scholarship, tradition and adaptation, inviting careful discernment rather than uncritical acceptance or dismissal.