What we found
The short version: everything detectable was checked, most of it is faithful, and the alterations that remain are few, patterned, and made by a translator who demonstrably knew better. Every clause of that sentence has a page behind it. This one connects them.
The denominator comes first
A site built on flagged examples owes its readers the denominator, and ours is measured, not asserted. An over-inclusive detector enumerated 11,423 candidate translated passages across the 24 usable texts of Suzuki's collected Chan-relevant corpus, and every one received a terminal verdict. Two independent blind audits then measured what the detector itself misses: the first exposed a blind spot for block-quoted prose sermons, so the detector was extended and the prose-heavy works re-swept; a second, non-overlapping audit put recall at 98.4%.
Of the enumerated candidates, about 3,100 are in scope with a checkable Chinese Zen source. Roughly 90% of that checkable set is faithful: 2,743 passages where Suzuki's English and the Chinese record simply agree. The alterations are concentrated, not pervasive: 316 ledger re-detections of the already-documented cases, plus 3 newly formalized divergences. Everything else is out of comparison scope with the reason recorded: Suzuki's own English exposition, Japanese-, Pure-Land-, and Sanskrit-based material, and front and back matter.
So “we checked everything” means something specific, and less than everything. It means that every detected passage received a verdict; that the detector's miss rate was audited rather than assumed; and that the holes are declared: two residual detector misses of a minor species, a few dozen passages whose Chinese source could not be identified (listed as such, not hidden), and the unobtained works named on the method page. It does not mean that no line anywhere escaped us. It means anyone can see exactly how far the sweep reached, and where it stopped.
Five families, one direction
Laid side by side, the documented divergences sort into a small set of families. Doctrinal import: 無心 “no-mind” becomes the Unconscious; 我, the bare posited “I,” becomes egoism; 清淨本然 “pure and originally so” becomes the Godhead, a late drift the fairness page sets beside his own faithful 1927 rendering; and the King James Bible enters an oxherding verse as the lilies of the field. The substance-self: 心 “mind” becomes the soul, in the very verse that denies one. Image-referent shift: 室 “a room” becomes a cage. Image flattening: 臺, the mirror's stand, is silently deleted, and 嘯, the long mountaintop whistle, becomes a hearty laugh. Sanitizing: 屎 becomes dirt, down to his own index. The families lean the same way: toward a Zen with a metaphysical substrate under it, its rougher and stranger edges smoothed.
The flagship carries the pattern at its simplest. In the old simile a room has six windows and a monkey inside, answering whichever window is called at. In Suzuki's English the room is “a cage.” Every line-anchored witness and every other translator has a room; confinement enters only in the English, and a one-character image acquires a prison the text does not contain. The case pages do the arguing, each with the same fixed apparatus: confrontation, consensus row, dictionary witnesses, literal reading, alteration, steelman. This page re-tries none of them.
Choice, not ignorance
The most consequential thing the exhaustive sweep surfaced is not a new charge. It is a set of controls: places where Suzuki renders the same disputed terms correctly, sometimes in the same book.
In The Zen Doctrine of No-Mind, the book whose central chapter installs “the Unconscious,” his own translation of Huangbo's One-Mind sermon renders 無心 as “no-mind-ness” and glosses it “having no mind (or thoughts) whatever”: the very line, 無心者無一切心也, that the dictionary's entry cites against the substrate reading. That control now sits on the case page itself, beside the reading it refutes. The same book's title renders 心 as “mind,” not “soul.” In What Is Zen? the Śūraṅgama formula 清淨本然 comes out faithfully, “‘reality’ in its so-ness is pure and undefiled,” while Studies in Zen makes the identical formula “the Absolute or the Godhead.” In Zen and Japanese Buddhism (1958) he renders 直指人心 as “Pointing directly at the Mind in every one of us,” gives 心如明鏡臺 as “The Mind is like a bright mirror,” and keeps the stand in 明鏡亦非臺, “The bright mirror has also no stand”: the noun his verse translations delete elsewhere. And in the Weikuan mondo, two lines after “egoism,” the identical 我 comes out plainly: “As long as there is ‘I and thou’.”
Same author, same terms: rendered right in one place, imported in another. Read fairly, that is the strongest exculpation the record offers; the divergences are not failures of comprehension, and no case on this site claims otherwise. Read precisely, it is also the sharper finding: what a translator demonstrably can render correctly, and elsewhere renders otherwise, is a choice. Both readings are the same fact, and that fact is why this site holds Suzuki to the standard it does. The standard is not ours. It is his own best work.
Comparison, not indictment
The fairness apparatus is not decoration; it is load-bearing, and the build enforces it. The fairness page documents renderings where Suzuki and the corpus simply agree, in the same layout as a case: the cypress tree in the courtyard, in unison with over 600 corpus occurrences; the hard lines of Blue Cliff 57; Linji's donkey-tethering stake, image and agent intact. Every case carries a mandatory steelman, the best defense of Suzuki's reading stated in earnest; a case without one does not build.
And the standard is symmetric. The dictionary this site treats as authority was audited for the same import family it flags in Suzuki: across 3,655 entries, “ego” appears zero times, “Godhead” zero, “psyche” zero, “unconscious” once (inside the refutation the no-mind case quotes), and “soul” eleven times, every one rendering 魂, the genuine soul-word, never 心. The same lint runs on this site's own prose at every build, this page included. The method page states the rule. The point throughout is a comparison that can be checked, not a verdict that must be trusted.
Reading Suzuki's Zen in English
Suzuki did more than anyone to give Zen an English voice, and the voice is mostly trustworthy: about nine in ten of the passages we could check are faithful, and some are beautiful. Nothing here retires him.
But for the better part of a century his renderings were the West's image of Zen, read by people with no way to check them, and where the English diverges it diverges in a direction: toward a substrate mind, a soul, a Godhead, a gentler and more furnished Zen than the record contains. A reader who knows this reads him better, not worse: the exposition with interest, the translations with a bookmark in the sources. That checking is now possible line by line: every witness on this site opens in the reader, and every case shows its evidence above its interpretation. Where Suzuki's English and the Zen record part ways, you no longer have to take anyone's word for it, including ours.