Laozi’s Philosophy: Textual and Conceptual Analyses

Abstract

This chapter provides a comprehensive and coherent analysis of the central concepts and theories in the Laozi’s thought, such as ziran (naturalness), wuwei (non-action), Dao, de, and the theory of transformational oppositions. Based on an analysis of these terms and theories, this chapter proposes the reconstruction of a possible system within the Laozi’s philosophy as a methodological experiment. The author asserts that the statement “Dao models itself after ziran,” puts ziran in the highest position of all values and principles. Laozi wants people to understand and be able to pursue ziran, the natural harmony in a civilized society, which is an ideal state of the world. The author emphasizes that the theoretical aspects of Laozi’s thought should not be understood as separate or isolated. They are associated in a roughly coherent system in which they support and interpenetrate each other.

These keywords were added by machine and not by the authors. This process is experimental and the keywords may be updated as the learning algorithm improves.

The Laozi or Daodejing is a fascinating, compelling, inspiring, and elusive work. Indeed, its themes and doctrines have been interpreted in radically different ways. Its ideas have been taken as treatments on metaphysics, ontology, ethics, social philosophy, political strategy, the arts of statesmanship and military strategy; it has been reckoned a source for the art of qigong (vital force exercise), the religion of immortality, and even a theory of feminism. Divergent interpretations of the Laozi have developed various, even opposed, strands of thought such as theism, atheism, and pantheism; idealism and materialism; rationality and mysticism; naturalism and humanism. Can we accept all these divergent and conflicting readings and impressions as equally valid approaches to the text? If not, how should we think about them? There is certainly no straightforward approach to judging between different standards of interpretation. After all, texts can be interpreted in as many ways as there are readers. But if we are interested in pursuing a faithful understanding of Laozi’s thought, we cannot assume that all interpretations are of the same accuracy and trustworthiness. It appears to me that the most reliable interpretation of the Laozi can only be achieved by approaching the text meticulously and comprehensively in its linguistic, social, and historical contexts.¹

1 An Experimental Approach

In the humanities, a faithful reading is always the primary approach and a prerequisite for academic study and interpretation; thus, it is actually a critical preparation for research and interpretation. Textual analytical knowledge and a circumspect attitude can build a foundation of close familiarity with the text and more accurate interpretation of Laozi’s philosophy, which in turn lays the groundwork for creative interpretation and philosophical construction. In this way, the difference and connection between newly created ideas and original textual meanings will be demonstrated clearly, unlike the traditional approach, which mixed an interpreter’s new ideas and textual explication. In this chapter, I will concentrate on close reading and contextual understanding, leaving creative interpretation and modern reconstruction to other works. Here I will consider the Laozi text as closely as possible and investigate its basic meaning, so that we may have a better foundation for modern comparison, reconstruction, and application of its ideas to today’s world. To take account of the various surviving versions of the Laozi, I consult and compare its bamboo slip, silk manuscript, and received versions, with the aim of staying as close as possible to the most ancient text to identify its most plausible meanings.²

While the Chap. 2 of this volume surveys the various approaches and interpretations in Laozi studies, this chapter introduces a more comprehensive and coherent analysis of three central concepts in Laozi’s thought. They are ziran (自然naturalness), wuwei (無為 non-action), and Dao.

When we wrestle with concepts from ancient Chinese thought in English, there is the issue of working through the Western philosophical terminology available to us. As long as philosophical discussion is concerned, no matter if it is Chinese, Indian, or African, we can hardly avoid using Western terms, though there is no philosophical vocabulary appropriate for all locations and periods. Faced with this issue, we are careful in our use of ready Western terminologies and theoretical frameworks in the discussion of Laozi’s philosophy, and when we need and have to use them, we try to be sensitive to the areas of discrepancy between them in their Western framework and in the context of Laozi’s thought. Thus, our policy is this: (1) we try not to apply ready Western concepts to Laozi’s text; (2) we will coin new phrases where possible to convey the unique meaning of a Laozian concept, for example, “civilized naturalness”³; and (3) we indicate the difference between Western terms and Laozi’s ideas when use of a Western term is unavoidable. For example, when we use metaphysics to discuss Laozi’s Dao, we do not mean to suggest that Dao is metaphysical in the platonic sense: namely, it does not suggest any dichotomy between the physical and metaphysical worlds, since the world is all of a piece in Laozi’s Daoism.

In this chapter, we will try to reveal a relative coherent system of Laozi’s thought, which consists of three key terms and theories in the Laozi, namely, ziran (natural order in civilized societies), wuwei (imperceptible yet effectual action), and Dao (the source and ground of the universe). They are associated in a roughly coherent body of theories in which they support and interpenetrate each other.

2 Ziran: The Core Value of Laozi’s Philosophy

Unlike most studies of Laozi’s philosophy, which usually focus on the concepts of Dao and wuwei, this chapter will first highlight ziran 自然, introducing it as the core or highest value in Laozi’s philosophy.⁴ The Laozi text asserts that “Dao models itself after ziran,” which puts ziran in the highest position of all things. Using this highest concept, Laozi wants people to understand and be able to pursue the ideal state of the world through his idea that Dao is the model for man, earth, and Heaven.

In the compound zi-ran, “zi” 自 denotes “self”, “ran” 然 denotes “so”; thus, ziran seems literally to indicate the state of “self-so” or “so-in-and-of-itself,” suggesting the spontaneous existence and development of things without artificial interruption or arbitrary control. However, the translation “self-so” or “so-in-and-of-itself” is possibly misleading, because in ziran, “zi” does not necessarily denote a person or agent who might cause or initiate something. “Ziran” in most situations indicates that something exists or happens without any known cause or agent.⁵ It is different from the English word “self,” which usually indicates subjectivity or agency; thus, the translation of “self-so” may mislead some into an individualist interpretation of ziran. Even though its literal meaning is clear, its implication and connotations are complicated and obscure, and we discovered many divergent and strange interpretations. Some of them will be discussed and clarified later. Because there is no simple word that accurately and fully captures ziran, we will temporarily use naturalness as a token for narrative convenience.

There are many levels of difficulty to getting at an understanding Laozi’s ziran. First, based on our investigation of extant texts and documents, Laozi must be credited with invention the term, but he did not provide a definition or explanation of its meanings. Second, scholars and commentators right through history have repeatedly reinterpreted Laozi’s ziran according to their own logic and viewpoint, a practice that prevents later readers from gaining an accurate understanding of Laozi’s meaning. This is especially the case since modern scholars seem inclined to follow later interpretations, especially that in Wang Bi’s commentary. We will deal with these two difficulties by textual analysis later. But generally, we should consciously try not to read later interpretations into the original text. We are, in a sense, engaging in conceptual archeology.

The third level of difficulty derives from the translation. The Chinese word ziran and the English word “nature” are often translated one for the other. Accordingly, modern scholars are inclined, consciously or unconsciously, to understand Laozi’s ziran through the meanings of the English “nature.” This is a serious problem that deserves to be reexamined and clarified.

2.1 Is Ziran Equal to Nature?

Raymond Williams has noted that for English “nature is perhaps the most complex word in the language” (Williams 1985: 219); “it is necessary to be especially aware of its difficulty” (ibid.: 224). The complexity of the English word “nature” dramatically aggravates the difficulty and divergences that crop up when it is employed to stand in for the Chinese ziran. Therefore, to clarify the meanings of ziran, we first have to be clear about the meanings of “nature.” From this judgment we can better decide if that is the best way to translate and interpret Laozi’s ziran.

Williams has distinguished three areas of meaning. Nature is:

• (i) the essential quality and character of something;

• (ii) the inherent force which directs either the world or human beings or both;

• (iii) the material world itself, taken as including or not including human beings. (Williams 1985: 219)⁶

He further asserts, “It is usually not difficult to distinguish (i) from (ii) and (iii); indeed it is often habitual and in effect not noticed in reading” (ibid.: 219). For example, the common phrase “human nature” could be used in all the three areas: (i) human nature as essential quality and character of human beings; (ii) human nature as directing inherent force of human beings; and human nature as “one of the variants of sense (iii), a fixed property of the material world, in this case ‘natural man’” (ibid.: 220). Another common phrase, “state of nature,” whose meaning is varied and “could be contrasted—sometimes pessimistically but more often optimistically and even programmatically—with an existing state of society” (ibid.: 223). Intriguingly, all these meanings of nature, human nature, and state of nature can be found, explicitly or implicitly, in modern interpretations of Laozi’s ziran.

Obviously, there is little chance that an understanding ziran derived mainly from the varied meanings of “nature” can be more accurate than a close reading and analysis of the text itself. What is worse, such improper interpretive practices are not confined to the world where English is the first language. It was also prevalent in Chinese intellectual circles around 1905 when Chinese accepted Japanese scholars’ transformation of ziran into a noun in parallel with “Nature” (the material world), even though the word ziran had originally been imported from China to Japan (Lin 2009).⁷ This translation represented a radical change, since ziran had been, for two millennia in China, a basically adjectival marker that described a character or feature of a state of things or movement, even it sometime grammatically functioned as a noun. Ziran had been used to translate only “natural” or “naturally” before twentieth century (ibid.). In classical Chinese ziran had never been used as a noun that denotes or connotes the material world. In pre-modern China, words like tian 天, tiandi 天地, or wanwu 萬物 denoted the material world In a way equivalent to the sense (iii) of nature. Similarly, ziran was never used to indicate senses (i) and (ii) of nature. For sense (i), Chinese had used the indigenous word xing 性 to denote the essential quality and characteristic of a thing or phenomenon since ancient times.

However, ever since ziran was use to translate “nature,” the variants and complex mean of “nature” have been mapped onto the Chinese word. Gradually, some Chinese scholars came to accept the varied senses of “nature” as native meanings for ziran. Consequently, they take it for granted that Laozi’s ziran can be fairly understood by reference to the complex meanings of “nature.” Hence we find that clearly modern meanings of the word “nature” have been carelessly read into Laozi’s ziran—not simply the physical world, the nature of myriad things, the biological nature of human beings, the state of uncivilized societies, doing nothing so that nature may take its course—but even the Hobbesian “state of nature.” A key purpose of this chapter is to do the linguistic archeology work necessary to discover the historical truth of Laozi’s terms and concepts buried beneath modern and Western languages and theories. Needless to say, our approach to this goal must be faithful analysis that is grounded in the text’s own historical and linguistic background, which is different from interpretations of modern-concerned orientation (Liu 2008–2009, 2009a).

2.2 Ziran: The Model of Dao

To understand Laozi’s ziran, we might first go to the last passage of Chapter 25, which says:

Man takes his models from Earth (ren fa di 人法地),

Earth takes its models from Heaven (di fa tian地法天),

Heaven takes its models from the Dao (tian fa dao 天法道), and the Dao takes its models from Ziran. (dao fa ziran 道法自然). (Lynn 1999)⁸

Obviously, the four sentences follow the “subject–predicate–object” structure, so that “man,” “earth,” “heaven,” “Dao,” separated into four sentences, act as subject, “takes (models)…” is the common verb, and “earth,” “heaven,” “Dao,” and ziran are the four objects of the verb fa (法), though ziran is not an entity, unlike earth, heaven, and Dao. This is the conventional straightforward reading, and it accords with syntactic analyses, admits no redundancy, and unfolds step by step from human to Dao without distorting the grammatical parallelisms and coherence. Therefore we believe this conventional understanding is correct and better than other strange readings.⁹ The meaning of the passage here is that human beings should attend to the world to recognize the principles of Heaven; Heaven in turn operates in accordance with the principles of Dao, and Dao operates according to the principles of ziran. Grammatically ziran is a noun, though its meaning here is “natural” or “a situation developing naturally.” Therefore, Richard Lynn’s translation of ziran as “the Natural” is better than other translations and acceptable.

However, some have translated ziran as Nature (Chan 1963) or claimed that ziran indicates the natural world and phenomena. One astonishing interpretation reads: “[Ziran] is various phenomena of the natural world: sun, moon, and stars; wind, rain, thunderstorms, and lightning; lunar and solar eclipses, mountain and earth cataclysms; and the births and deaths of all living things” (Yin 1998: 342). Above we mentioned that the use of ziran to denote the natural world started in the twentieth century, so this interpretation is obviously lacking historical and linguistic grounds. Besides, the text repeats the verb fa 法 (model after) four times to emphasize that human beings should ultimately model themselves after the principle of ziran. If ziran denotes the natural world and phenomena, then why and how people should model themselves after natural changes or even cataclysmic events? It doesn’t make sense. Although scholars may not agree with this ridiculous interpretation, they are still inclined, if unconsciously, to be influenced by the conceptualization of ziran as natural world as they try to understand and interpret Laozi’s thought. If people want to comprehend Laozi’s ziran faithfully, they must get past the modern association of ziran with the natural world. Thus, we occasionally use naturalness as a stand-in for ziran because this approach steps back from the idea of ziran as a kind of entity and instead forefronts its adjectival quality, if in nominative form. Still, this is not an accurate translation and could be misunderstood. For example, some might think the sentence “Dao takes its model from ziran” means Dao exerts no function and just lets everything follow its own nature or naturalness.

This understanding is problematic and requires further discussion. The critical question for understanding Laozi’s ziran is the scope of its concern. Does it concern single beings or the general situation of human beings, as well as the universe? Let’s analyze the text seriously. Laozi arranges the “four greats” in an ascending row, from man, earth, Heaven, through Dao, the source and ground of the universe. This clearly points to expanding human insight beyond people’s own existence to the whole of the universe, with special concern given to the ultimate condition of mankind. This evokes nothing about any specific being or single entity in the empirical world. So we should not understand Laozi’s ziran as pertaining to any single entity, although Wang Bi (226–249 CE) did suggest this individualist interpretation in his famous and popular commentary on the Laozi. Wang’s commentary reads: “Dao avoids acting contrary to Ziran and so realizes its own nature (xing 性). To take models from Ziran means that when it exists in a square, it takes squareness as its model, and when it exists in a circle, it takes circularity as its model: it does nothing that is contrary to Ziran” (Lynn 1999: 96). According to Wang, Laozi’s ziran concerns even individual beings, relating to each one’s own nature (xing 性). Thus, Wang’s ziran falls into each individual being’s character (squareness or roundness) and carries no sense of transcendence. Actually, Laozi wants human beings to go beyond their limitations by taking models from earth, heaven, and the ultimate, Dao, while Wang makes Dao, Heaven, and earth common singularities in the physical world. Wang was the first author who began to see Laozi’s ziran from the perspective of personal nature, in part reflecting the interests of his historical period, though he does not say that ziran is one’s nature. Personal nature was a central concern of the Neo-Daoism and Profound Learning (xuanxue 玄學) movements of the third century. Wang thus failed to understand Laozi’s philosophy in a faithful and accurate way, but he succeeded in creating a new and influential philosophy.

Based on Chapter 25, as well as other chapters, we could recognize that Laozi’s ziran is about neither the natural world nor about human nature and individual inclination. Dao is the ultimate source and ground of Heaven, earth, and people; thus, Laozi’s claim that ziran is the object after which Dao models itself promotes ziran to the very highest status, as both a positive value and a central principle for human beings. Thus, Laozi’s ziran suggests an idealist state of human societies and of the universe, without conflicts, oppression, or chaos. In short, Dao not only has universal force and function, it also promotes and embodies the highest values for human societies. As the model for Dao itself, ziran here is advanced as the central value at the highest, most holistic stratum.¹⁰

2.3 Ziran: Between Sages and People

In Chapter 25, Laozi contends that humans should take models from earth, heaven, Dao, and finally ziran. However, it is not the common people but sages who should first practice and embody the principle of ziran, the core value and highest principle of Laozi’s philosophy. Still, sages’ existence and function have direct relation to the common people. Chapter 17 presents these features of the sage. Fortunately, we have not only the received version of this text, but also the two most recently unearthed versions, namely, the bamboo and the silk manuscripts recovered from tombs in the 1970s and 1990s, respectively. Logically, these recovered versions should be nearer the oldest or original version. After analysis, the antique versions indeed proved superior in terms of their content and thought. The bamboo version reads:

The best of all rulers is but a shadowy presence to subjects,

Next comes the ruler they love and praise;

Next comes one they fear;

Next comes one whom they insult … … …

• (1) Hesitant, [I (voice of the sage)] do not utter words lightly

  (Youhu qi guiyan ye 猶乎其貴言也),

• (2) when [I] have accomplished my task and done my work

  (chengshi suigong 成事遂功),

• (3) Then the common people all say that I [(the sage) have realized] the principle of ziran. (er baixing yue wo ziran ye 而百姓曰我自然也).

Here the best ruler does not force people to do anything and makes no display of his own kindness or capability—the people only know of his existence and have no need to pay attention to him, let alone express gratitude and eulogy. This is the “empty throne” ruler, the Daoist ideal. The next best ruler acts in ways that excite the admiration and affection of the people; this is the sagely ruler according to conventional or Confucian ideal. The next best ruler instills fear in his subjects; this is what is commonly referred to as a benighted ruler. Even worse is the ruler who inflicts hardships upon his subjects and earns himself nothing but insults and abuse. This is what is referred to as a tyrannical ruler. The sage, the Daoist ideal model of leadership, is unhurried and at ease, a person of few words. He has accomplished tasks to his satisfaction, and yet the people do not realize that he has done a thing, but admire him for his practicing the principle of ziran or naturalness.¹¹Obviously, ziran has nothing to do with natural world and primitive societies, it is derives from and used for a civilized society. Again, here ziran focuses on general state of the society or groups of people, instead of issues concerning single beings.

There is a problem of interpretation with regard to this chapter. Most scholars have been of the opinion that ziran here does not indicate that the ruler did nothing, but rather that his actions were accomplished imperceptibly without the people being aware of them, or that his actions were accepted as something that had developed of its own accord. This raises an important issue: whether or not the value of ziran can allow for the effect of external force, for example, from a sage. According to traditional commentaries, the application of external force counts as natural as long as people are not directly aware of it. If one accepts this interpretation, then ziran would not preclude the exertion of external force or acquiescence to the influence of such force, it just precludes the use of external force in a coercive manner. Thus, to practice the principle ziran suggests a principle that the leadership should be efficacious yet attract no attention or notice.

Another problem in interpreting this passage is discerning just who is speaking. My reading, which is further supported by the bamboo and silk versions, is different from popular commentaries. There is no subject in lines (1) and (2), but I assume the subject is “I”, the author and the representative speaker for the sage. This pattern is also seen in Chapter 43: “Thus I know the advantages of wuwei (non-action). The teaching that is without words, the advantages of wuwei, few in the world attain these.” Here “I” practice teaching without words, similar to line (1): “[I] do not utter words lightly.” Chapter 2 also reads: “[The] sage abides in the business of non-action and practices the teaching that is without words.” Thus we can assume that “I” is used for the voice of the sage. This is common and more examples could be found in chapters 20, 57, 67, and 70. My reading of line (3) “Then the common people all say I have realized the principle of ziran” is similar to “The whole world says that I am great” (silk version, Ch. 67).¹² In this sentence, the subject “I” cannot be changed by ‘people in the world’ (Liu X. 2006b: 207–10). According to this reading, ziran is a concept to promote sagely principles in the treatment of people and the world. Chapter 17 discusses the relationship of the sage and the community, covering the significance of ziran or naturalness at the middle level, namely, the community stratum. Chapter 23 mentions that “To be sparing with words is in accordance with ziran,” which also belongs to this stratum. Ziran in chapters 17 and 23 concerns the sagely principle of leadership and advances more sophisticated social management; therefore, ziran has nothing to do with primitive societies or the dark side of culture as some scholars have criticized.

Now we move on to the foundational and individual stratum of the principle of ziran or naturalness. Chapter 64 develops the concept of ziran from the perspective of the relationship between the sage and the myriad things. The received version is:

Therefore the sage desires not to desire,

And does not value goods that are hard to come by;

He studies what is not studied,

And makes good the mistakes of the multitude.

He just assists the myriad things’ ziran and dares not to act.

(Yi fu wanwu zhi ziran er bu gan wei 以輔萬物之自然,而不敢為)

The key point is lies in the last sentence: the sage assists the myriad creatures to realize their natural prosperousness, but dares not to act generally in the manner of the common people. However, the relation between “assist” and “not to act” is unclear, for we may understand that assisting is also a kind of acting, so there appears to be a kind of contradiction here. Another translation reads: “Thus he supports all things in their natural state but does not take any action” (Chan 1963). Here does not take any action may trump the sages’ act of assistance or support. At very least the relation between the two phrases is confusing. Fortunately, this relation is presented clearly and forcefully in the bamboo versions A and C.¹³ Bamboo A might be earlier, based on the handwriting style, but here the sentence is more complete, and its meaning is more readily comprehensible:

And so the sage is able to assist the myriad things’s ziran,

but is unable to act [in the common manner]

(Shigu shengren neng fu wanwu zhi ziran er funeng wei

是故聖人能輔萬物之自然, 而弗能為).¹⁴

This earliest version forefronts the contrast between “able” and “unable,” which in turn illuminates the relation between assisting and acting. We can finally make out that Laozi does not mean “assisting the myriad things’ ziran” to be the usual sort of “action” we might expect of mundane people. Instead it demonstrates that Laozi does not value the common actions and behavior that comes from regular knowledge and practice, but promotes a special kind of action and behavior that proceeds according to the principle of ziran. In other words, the sage is able to assist natural prosperity of the myriad creatures and things, but unable to take action in regular ways.

Here, three critical words deserve our attention. First, fu 輔, which can be translated as to assist, help, or support, etc. It is better understood on a spectrum between two extremes. One extreme is restraint, manipulation, interruption, interference, exploitation, control, and oppression; the other is pampering, spoiling, indulgence, permissiveness, and over-protection. Thus, fu or assistance is the careful and prudent art of sagely leadership; its purpose and objective are completely aimed at benefiting the myriad things, no aspect of which shows off the sage's own importance and intelligence or accrues personal benefits. We will come back to this point when we discuss Laozi’s concept of xuande 玄德 (profound and mysterious virtue).

Another concept is wanwu 萬物, the myriad things. This term seems archaic and has been commonly replaced by Nature or the natural world, but it is rather meaningful for modern societies. Wanwu is not an abstract single like “mankind,” nor a collective like “students.” It features (1) the inclusion of all human beings without exclusion and discrimination, (2) the equality of human beings and all other creatures and things, and (3) a simultaneous indication of both the whole and the sole. That whole is composed of all individual beings and the sole is always part of the whole; thus it is different from the concepts of individualism and collectivism. This concept may inspire new ideas about the whole and the sole among human beings and in the relation between humans and other beings.

The most important concept here, of course, is ziran. But the old question comes back again: does ziran in this passage concern only the individual nature (xing 性). Because the myriad things the sage helps can be taken both as a collective and as individual entities, so the sage’s assistance must fall to each individual thing within the collective or else this assertion is a boast and a falsehood. When Laozi makes ziran the highest value and principle, it must implicate respect, concern, and loving care for all living things in a peaceful natural order. Not only does the sage’s role include nurture and concern with overall development, it means allowing each blade of grass, tree, and person to enjoy conditions that support their natural development. In modern world, it may include each family, household, village, town, and territory to enjoy the environment and space each needs to develop normally. This is the foundation and condition of the overall natural order and a socially harmonious situation alike. Thus, the ziran that the sages assist cannot be understood merely as individual nature (xing 性), and the passage is better interpreted as sages providing the conditions for the natural prosperity of the myriad things.

2.4 Summary of Ziran

To sum up, here are the key points:

• 1. Laozi’s ziran is the highest principle and core value of his philosophy; it is advanced and embodied by Dao, the source and ground of the universe. Laozi’s other key concepts, such as Dao of Heaven, xuande (profound and mysterious virtue), wuwei, femininity, and softness, are all associated with it and purport to help realize it.

• 2. Ziran provides the functional model for Dao, Heaven, earth, and mankind; therefore the scope of its concern is the general and ultimate condition, state, and order of the universe and societies. It is not merely about individual beings, though individuals are included as members of the myriad things.

• 3. Based on etymological archeology, Laozi’s ziran has nothing to do with the natural world, human nature, primitive societies, and various notions about the state of nature.

• 4. Thus, we can say that ziran suggests the idealistic natural order of civilized societies and the world. So for narrative convenience we might use civilized naturalness or a natural civilized state as English stand-ins for ziran.

• 5. Ziran as coined by Laozi originally had an ambiguous meaning, rather different from the usage of later Daoists, such as Zhuangzi, Huainanzi, Wang Bi, and Guo Xiang, never mind modern Chinese renditions of ziran or the English word “nature.” Thus, to understand Laozi’s ziran, we must work to avoid reading later and even modern interpretations of ziran into Laozi’s text.

3 Wuwei: The Principled Method

Wuwei (無為) and ziran are often breezed over and taken to be similar terms in Daoism, but this is not a conclusion based on a serious reading of the Laozi text. By careful textual analysis, we can establish that ziran is the core value of Laozi’s philosophy, while wuwei (無為) is a general method by which to realize the value. Wuwei is often translated as “non-action,” which is not perfectly precise, but we may take it as a convenient token for the sake of discussion, so long as we keep in mind that its true meaning goes well beyond the literal. Wuwei has also been rendered as “acting naturally” and “non-purposive action,” as well as “effortless action” (Slingerland 2003), each of which reflects certain elements of the term’s range of connotations. Additional interpretations include “never over-doing,” “no conscious effort,” “no set purpose,” “non-dual action,” and “utilitarian principle that serves the social purpose of winning the world” (Zhu 2002: 53). Unfortunately, no terms or concepts in modern languages coincide with the meanings of wuwei in the Laozi.

The form of the term wuwei is negative. What is the object the term negates? Three items have been proposed: (1) any act, (2) intentions or desires, and (3)forceful action. Based on this classification, J. Liu has developed a comprehensive theory of wuwei: “Laozi’s notion of wuwei incorporates all three functions: (1) when things are running well, do nothing to interfere; (2) when the sage has to do something, let him do it with no personal, selfish desire; (3) in all his acts, the sage should conform to Dao, the natural pattern of things, and refrain from introducing human intervention.” (Liu J. 2006a: 143–45) This is both a reasonable and a comprehensive explanation, and it helps us to further investigate the meanings of the term and related theories.

Actually, Laozi’s philosophy is not a treatise or system of concepts, but a collection of terms, ideas, proverbs, loose passages, poetic sayings, and the like, with a general view of the universe, the world, societies, and the myriad things, as well as their conditions and circumstances. It is neither a systematic monograph, nor a disordered mixture of maxims and truisms. So we should not analyze its concepts or terms with the expectation of modern philosophical order and regularity. We have to ferret out the specific characteristics of its terms and patterns of expression.

3.1 Dual Meanings of Wuwei-like Terms

When we read the text closely and seriously, we find that Laozi repeatedly claims great advantages for wuwei, as well as other negatively stated terms such as “no-business” (wushi 無事), “not struggling” (buzheng 不爭), “not doing” (buwei 不為), “not using force” (buwu 不武), “not daring” (bugan 不敢), “no-anger” (bunu 不怒), “no-desires” (wuyu 無欲, buyu 不欲), “no-possessions” (buyou 不有), “no-dependence” (bushi 不恃), “no-authority” (buzai 不宰), “no-knowledge” (wuzhi 無知), “no-selfishness” (wusi 無私), “no-body” (wushen 無身), and the like.¹⁵ These are merely a handful of the dozens of wuwei-like terms and phrases, which in effect form a large family of similar terms. Therefore, our analyses of wuwei should simultaneously consider all members of this big term-family.

Before we consider Laozi’s idea of wuwei, two points should be clarified. First, who can be an agent of wuwei? Second, is the sage a ruler like a king or prince? Some scholars take wuwei as a general principle of behavior for the common people and consider sages equivalent to rulers.¹⁶ But these readings are not careful enough. If we pay close attention to and investigate these questions, we can arrive at the finding that in fact, in the Laozi the sage is never a ruler as in the real world, instead, he is a idealistic model for rulers. Furthermore, in Laozi’s thought, only the sage is the agent of the principled method of wuwei, though the sage may certainly be seen as a model for the common people who should follow and practice the principled method.

The agent of wuwei is clearly the sage, who stands in distinction from regular kings or prices, or any ruler in history. Textual evidence makes this clear. On examining the twelve references to wuwei in ten chapters, we find that the sage is explicitly specified as its agent in five of those chapters. For example: “The sage says, ‘I conduct non-action and the people transform themselves,’”(Ch. 57); “Thus the sage abides in the business of non-action and practices the teaching that is without words” (Ch. 2).¹⁷ In four chapters, we can easily infer that the agent of non-action is also a sage; for example, Chapter 43 says: “That is why I know the benefit of taking non-action, the teaching that is without words….” Obviously, here “I” must refer to same agent specified in Chapter 2, since the wording is otherwise the same; so we know that the “I” who knows the advantage of non-action is also a sage.¹⁸ The only exception, where the agent is not a sage, occurs in Chapter 37: “Dao consistently conducts non-action, but nothing is left undone. Should lords and princes be able to hold fast to it, the myriad creatures will be transformed of their own accord.”¹⁹ Here, Dao is the formal and anthropomorphic agent of non-action. Because the sage is an embodiment of Dao in the human world, we can conclude that Dao-as-agent is in accordance with the sage as agent of non-action. Rulers, such as lords and princes, or kings and barons, should take Dao as their operational model. Therefore, we can comfortably assert that the sage is the essential agent of wuwei. This does not suggest that common people should not or cannot learn and practice wuwei, but that is not Laozi’s interest. If we want to discuss Laozi’s wuwei instead of the general philosophical theme of wuwei, we should not forget that the agent of wuwei is the sage, the model of Daoist leadership, instead of a ruler of a state in the world.

Why do we have to argue that the sage is the agent of wuwei or non-action? There are two points. First, it accentuates that the Laozi is not a book on the practical arts of government (junren nanmian zhi shu 君人南面之術); this strain of thinking was only later introduced in Han period Daoism (first century BCE?), also known as the ‘Huang-Lao school’ (黃老之學). Second, wuwei is the ideal practice the sage uses to treat and take care of people, societies, and the world. It is geared to realize a holistic social order and is not a common craft or method for people in everyday life, though the folk can learn its principles from the sage and assume this approach. Again, wuwei is promoted to realize ziran, the order of a naturally harmonious environment. It is neither an utopian plan nor a matter of practical schemes and techniques, let alone conspiracy or trickery as some scholars have criticized.

If we consider wuwei a concept in Laozi’s philosophy, we must realize that it is rather different from philosophical concepts in the modern sense. It is not easy to analyze and establish clearly simple meanings because this ancient text was not a work of conceptual analysis. If we read seriously and comprehensively, however, we discover that wuwei is actually a dual-meaning term: its surface meaning is wu 無wei 為, which seems to denote literally “not any action” as an isolated term; but its actual meaning in its rich contexts promotes an extraordinary Daoist way of action and behavior in leadership and management. This significant meaning, disguised in the surface negative construction, is essential to the unfolding of the whole text and is even more noteworthy philosophically.

First we should clarify the purpose of wuwei. Does wuwei really mean merely doing nothing? It certainly does not. With close reading, we can readily see that Laozi does not promote “doing nothing.” Wuwei instead is a negation of not all action, but only actions based in “common knowledge and practice,” such as control, coercion, competition, exploitation, oppression, strife, and impulsiveness, namely, all actions that run counter to the principle of Dao and civilized naturalness. We touched on this issue earlier when we discussed the statement, “The sage is able to assist myriad things’ natural prosperity, but is unable to act.” Obviously, though seeming to negate all actions, Laozi in fact promotes another style of action that common people may never know. Numerous sentences and phrases indicate that Laozi aims to promote the effectual act and behavior in an irregular way; for example, “to retire when the task is accomplished” (gongsui shentui 功遂身退) (Ch. 9); “it accomplishes its task yet lays no claim to merit” (gongcheng er buchu 功成而不處) (Ch. 2); “the sage embraces the One and is a model for the world” (shengren boyi wei tianxia shi 聖人抱一為天下式) (Ch. 22); and “win the world by engaging in no activity” (yi wushi qu tianxia 以無事取天下) (Ch. 57), to name just a few. The words in italics indicate actions, but they are different from regular action that wuwei negates. One side is the result of successful action, such as “the task is accomplished,” “is a model for the world,” or “win the world”; the other side is an exceptional attitude or approach: “not claim to merit,” “embrace the One,” and “engaging in no activity,” which are things common people cannot do. These two sides constitute Laozi’s idea of principled action and behavior, and they also result in “profound and mysterious virtue” (xuande 玄德), which we will discuss later. The numerous examples of similar sentences are too many to set out here. For brevity’s sake, we can say that Laozi in no way promotes doing nothing or merely withdrawing from a world full of conflicts. His ideas, including wuwei, are intended for achieving incomparable results with minimum side-effects by way of exception sorts of action.

3.2 Intending the Positive by Posing the Negative

Again, by negating people’s customary values and practice, Laozi aims to reach and realize higher and better goals and results, therefore. All his negative terms have double functions: they directly negate things, acts, and attitudes of the common sort while at the same time effect great results and outcomes. The negating aspect is represented by wuwei; and the positive aspect is perfectly represented by the phrase wubuwei 無不為 (nothing left undone). Thus we have Laozi’s famous proverb “To do nothing yet nothing is left undone” (wuwei er wubuwei 無為而無不為) (Ch. 48).²⁰ Here wubuwei is obviously higher and more desirable then wuwei itself. Thus, Laozi’s wuwei is not merely a negative term. It suggests a transcending negation or common actions for higher goals and better results. Unfortunately, this more significant side is often neglected by readers and researchers.

Wuwei suggests the cancellation of regular actions in order to realize ideal results, even an ideal state of society and the universe. For example, “The sage makes no attempt to be great (buwei da 不為大). It is for this reason that he is able to perfect greatness (guneng cheng da 故能成大)” (Ch. 34, silk edition, and Ch. 63). Not attempting to be great is the way to achieve true greatness; the negative side is the condition by which to accomplish the higher and better outcome. Similarly, in Chapter 48, following the statement “do nothing yet nothing is left undone,” we read: “To gain the world (qu tianxia 取天下) one proceeds by having no-business (wushi 無事); as soon as one has business (youshi 有事), he will fall short of gaining the world.” The same idea appears again in Chapter 57. And in Chapter 3, the last sentence reads: “If one goes with non-action (wei wuwei 為無為), nothing will be not in order (wu bu zhi 無不治).” Through all these concerns with mundane business, we see the pattern of a negative approach achieving positive results, which is actually in accord with the metaphysical model of Dao. Thus Chapter 73 contends: “Dao of Heaven suggests that [Dao engages in] no fighting but is good at victory, [it has] no words but is good at response, and [makes] no call but things come of their own accord” (silk version). All these passages demonstrate that the seeming negative and passive patterns of action and attitude in Laozi’s philosophy in fact aim for achieving perfect accomplishment.

The most important positive function of wuwei lies in the realization of ziran or natural order in civilized societies, whereby myriad things develop and prosper spontaneously and are grateful to no one. Chapter 57 states:

• 1. Follow what is correct and regular in ordering your state,

• 2. Follow what is strange and perverse in deploying your troops,

• 3. Follow no business (wushi 無事) and gain the world (qu tianxia 取天下).

• 4. How do I know that things are this way?

• 5. Through this:

• 6. The more taboos and prohibitions there are in the world, the poorer the people.

• 7. The more sharp implements the people have, the more benighted the state.

• 8. The more clever and skillful the people, the more strange and perverse things arise.

• 9. The clearer the laws and edicts, the more numerous thieves and robbers.

• 10. And so sages say:

• 11. I do nothing (wuwei 無為) and the people transform themselves (zihua 自化),

• 12. I prefer stillness (haojing 好靜) and the people correct and regulate themselves (zizheng 自正),

• 13. I engage in no business (wushi 無事) and the people prosper by themselves (zifu 自富),

• 14. I have no desires (wuyu 無欲) and the people become simple themselves (zipu 自樸).²¹

This chapter provides a good illustration of the multiple aspects of Laozi’s wuwei. The sage practices the principled method wuwei, while people enjoy their natural development in a harmonious environment. Lines 1–3 emphasize that the negative action wushi 無事 (no business) can achieve the positive result of “gaining the world”; lines 6–9 demonstrate the harmful results of regular values and actions, namely, a poor, benighted and perverse society with more thieves. All items considered valuable by the common people and rulers, such as things clever, clear, sharp, skillful, prohibitions, actually oppose wuwei and give rise to actions that destroy the natural order of society. Then the author comes to the conclusion, lines 11–14, to reveal the great consequence of the principled method of wuwei, which also involves stillness (haojing 好靜), no business (wushi 無事), and no desires (wuyu 無欲). The results are indicated by four pairs of parallel words that indicate the natural transformation of the people spontaneously, i.e., zihua 自化, zizheng 自正, zifu 自富, and zipu 自樸. Other similar terms found in the Laozi are self-equilibrium (zijun 自均), self-obedience (zibin 自賓), and self-stabilization (ziding 自定). All these constitute a ziran-like term family. All of these desirable effects, seemingly achieved by people themselves or naturally, are the very result the Daoist sage expects and enjoys. This has a kind of resonance with Chapter 17, which claims that “the leader is best when people barely know he exists” (Bynner 1972), and a perfect illustration of the claim in Chapter 64 that “the sage is able to assist myriad things’ natural prosperity, but is unable to act.” That the sage practices the principle of non-action, no-business, and no-desire, while people of themselves become correct, prosperous, and simple is a quintessential example of Laozi’s proverb “To do nothing yet nothing is left undone.”

In sum, a simplifying self-transformation of people is the purpose of ziran, as is natural prosperity among them and the myriad things, without any need for control or command, and even less any need to feel gratitude to the sage. The sage is the agent of wuwei, and people are its beneficiaries. This result, a natural order in the world, is the very purpose of the sage who pursues ziran by means of the method wuwei. In these natural, harmonious circumstances, the sage realizes his highest ideal and thus is also one of the beneficiaries.

In addition to claiming great achievements via wuwei, Laozi also emphasizes wuwei’s passive advantage, by which failure is avoided. A passage in Chapter 64 contends:

Those who act on it ruin it;

Those who hold on to it lose it.

Therefore the sage does not act,

And as result, he doesn’t ruin things,

He does not hold on to things,

And as a result, he doesn’t lose things. (Henricks 1991)

This is the clearest statement of the benefits of wuwei, though stated from a passive or negative perspective. Similarly, chapters 22 and 66 argue: “Because they (sages) do not contend, no one in the world can compete with them” (Ivanhoe 2002: 22, 69). And Chapter 8 echoes: “Only by avoiding contention can one avoid fault” (ibid.: 8). Thus, wuwei aims not only at an idealistic goal, but proceeds from realistic and prudent consideration.

All the discussion above concerns mainly external action and behavior. This external wuwei is just a natural extension of the sage’s internal wuwei, which can be represented by the term “no-desire” (wuyu 無欲) (chs. 1, 3, 34, 37, 57). As with wuwei, no-desire does not mean the negation of all desires, but only the ordinary desires of common rulers and people. In the Laozi, no-desire appears five times, in chapters 1, 3, 34, 37, and 57. The sage is a figure of no-desires, and his most characteristic feature is his profound and mysterious virtue (xuande 玄德). Chapter 51 introduces this feature:

Dao is esteemed and virtue is honored without anyone’s order.

They always come naturally (ziran).

Therefore Dao produces them (myriad things) and virtue fosters them….

(Dao) produces them but does not take possession of them (buyou 不有)

It acts, but not rely on its merit (bushi 不恃),

It leads them but does not rule them (buzai 不宰),

This is called profound and mysterious virtue (xuande 玄德). (Chan 1963)

Here the profound and mysterious virtue belongs to Dao, and it features no-possession, not relying on merit, and not ruling. A similar statement appears in Chapter 2, but the same virtue is attributed to the sage. This proves that the author believed that profound and mysterious virtue is shared by both Dao and the sage. Thus this virtue is at once a feature of Dao, and a prescription for human beings. The sage is an exemplar of this virtue, an intermediary between Dao and mankind, and a model for the people. In addition to no-possession, not relying on merit, and not ruling, Laozi also advances no-body (wushen 無身) (ch. 13), no-selfishness (wusi 無私) (ch. 7), and no-mind (wuxin 無心) (ch. 49), other examples of wuwei-like terms. These internal forms of wuwei are the foundation of and conditions for externalized wuwei.

3.3 Summary ofWuwei

Finally, let us summarize our points about wuwei in the Laozi text.

• 1. Wuwei is the most prominent in a family of negative terms that have dual meanings, that is, literal and intentional meanings. The literal meaning negates common forms of action and behavior, while the intentional meaning points to exceptional results.

• 2. Wuwei suggests measures instead of a purpose. Generally speaking, wuwei-like terms aim at higher and greater accomplishments; specifically, wuwei’s ultimate achievement is ziran or civilized naturalness.

• 3. The sage is the agent of wuwei, whose goal is achieving ziran or natural civilized order in society and the universe; this extraordinary end cannot attain by regular ways. Therefore the wuwei approach is an inevitable part of Laozi’s philosophy.

• 4. The precondition to practicing wuwei is its agent’s internal wuwei, namely the exclusion of personal desires for such as merit, fame, victory, etc.; otherwise, no one can practice the principle of wuwei, or the external wuwei.

• 5. The minimum significance of wuwei is as a means to avoid failure or avert harm. This is the negative side of its benefits.

• 6. Thus, we may propose that Laozi’s principle of wuwei refers to an imperceptible form of action that still effects extraordinary results. ²²

4 Dao: Source and Ground of the Universe

In studies of the Laozi, there is agreement that Dao is the key critical term or concept.²³ Dao is commonly described as invisible, inaudible, subtle, formless, infinite, vague, mysterious, oneness, and so on. We are bound to fail, however, to find agreement in academic discussions that try to define and interpret Dao in simple terms and concepts. There is no single word or term, even in modern Chinese, let alone English, that can adequately gloss Dao.

4.1 Inspiration from Divergent Interpretations

Hu Shih 胡適 (1891–1962) might have been the first to try to interpret Dao in modern Western terms. Hu thought that Dao of heaven (tiandao 天道) is tantamount to the Law of Nature, and Dao is the origin of the world (Hu 1926: 56, 64). This kind of thinking is the root of cosmological interpretations of Dao.²⁴ Hu was followed by Fung Youlan 馮友蘭 (1895–1990), who pointed out that before Laozi, the meaning of the Dao “was always restricted to human affairs, whereas when we come to the Laozi, we find the word Dao being given a metaphysical meaning. That is to say, the assumption is made that for the universe to have come into being, there must exist an all-embracing first principle, which is called Dao” (Fung 1952: 177). Here Fung proposed that Dao is an ontological rather than cosmological concept, claiming that Dao “is Non-being, and is that by which all things come to be. Therefore, before the being of Being, there must be Non-being, from which Being comes into being. What is said here belongs to ontology, not to cosmology. It has nothing to do with time and actuality. For in time and actuality, there is no Being; there are only beings” (Fung 1948: 96). Hu and Fung should be remembered for setting out the direction of modern interpretations of Dao in Western terminology. Following on their work, countless interpretations and controversies about Dao have mushroomed in China, most of them employing translated Western philosophical terms, such as cosmology, ontology, matter, ideas, principle, reality, substance, metaphysics, laws of nature, materialism, idealism, and so on. None of these terms can encompass the complicated meanings of Dao, thus divergent understandings and interpretations will never end, which may stimulate our further speculation and examination of the true meanings of Dao. Again, our effort must lie with either to approximating the meaning of the Laozi’s Dao or creating a more philosophically satisfactory theory of Dao. We can see the mixture of these two orientations in the following interpretations, but this chapter’s emphasis remains reaching an understanding based on the faithful reading of Laozi’s text.

Interpretation of the Laozi developed considerable sophistication when the preeminent scholars Chen Chung-hwan (陳忠寰 [陳康]), Tang Chun-I (唐君毅), Yen Lingfeng (嚴靈峰), and Chen Guying (陳鼓應) laid out a spectrum of possible meanings for Dao that ranged from metaphysics to matters of human life. Of these, Chen Chung-hwan’s interpretation raised much discussion and serves as a good foundation for our discussion here. Chen identifies three static and three dynamic senses of Laozi’s Dao. We will list the six senses of his interpretations here; the first three are static senses of Dao (lines 1–3), and the last three are the dynamic senses (lines 4–6).

• 1. The ultimate source from which the myriad things come,

• 2. The storehouse of the myriad things,

• 3. The ultimate model of things, non-human, and human beings.

• 4. The agent or the efficient cause of phenomena,

• 5. The principle under which the myriad things are produced and sustained,

• 6. Something active and its activity is reversion. (Chen 1964: 150–53)

Dao is, Chen claims, a unique and universal binding principle (ibid.). This generalization and the six senses are based on faithful textual analysis and evidence. Chen is a specialist in Western philosophy, especially Greek philosophy, but he does not use ready and popular Western terms to define or describe Dao. He has discerned the differences, subtle and obvious, between Laozi’s Dao and Western terminology.

If we want to more simply state what Dao is, we may take the Chen’s sense (1) as the ultimate source of the universe, focusing on its generating or producing function; and senses (2) through (4) as the ground of the universe or myriad things, including its functions as storehouse, model, and cause of phenomena. These demonstrate that Dao’s functions penetrate the whole world, including all manner of things. The fifth sense involves two aspects: principles of production and sustainment, of which, the former might be attributed to the “source” function, and the latter to the “ground” function. Sense (6) can be understood as the features of Dao’s operation and movement not included as function. So the answer the question of what Dao is may be boiled down to this general statement: Dao is the source and ground of the universe. Certainly, this is not a definition and omits many features of Dao, but it is simple and catches the essential functions of Laozi’s Dao.

In addition, Chen raises an important question that deserves our discussion here. When we read “the Dao once declined” in the Chapter 18, we may wonder, how can the “constant Dao” decline? How can the Dao in decline still be universally binding? Chen answers, “There is no self-contradiction here, for the Dao is so in relation to two different spheres, that of human actions and that of non-human actions.” Thus the Dao, the universally binding principle in the sphere of non-human actions, is that to which everything conforms and from which nothing is able to deviate, but the Dao as the principle of human actions is different. Here it has a normative character, it is something to which human actions ought to conform. Dao is, Chen concludes, both axiomatic principle (sollensprinzip) and ontic principle (seinsprinzip) (Chen 1964: 154, 157). Chen believes “there is no self-contradiction” when he claims that Dao is both normative and ontic because Dao’s function covers both spheres of “ought to be” and “is.” This seems to be a functionally dual interpretation, which has caused significant discussion.

Unlike the above-mentioned scholars whose interpretations focus specifically on the Laozi, one representative philosopher of the contemporary New Confucian movement, Mou Tsungsan 牟宗三 (1909–1995), presents a new theory. He seems to solve Chen’s dualist problem by claiming that Dao is not a concept of “metaphysics in the line of being” but “metaphysics in the line of vision.” Hence Mou’s interpretation or definition of Dao in his own philosophical system refocuses on its “practical ontology,” viewing the ontological world and issues through “practical mind-vision” (shijian tizheng 實踐體証). Thus Dao is by no means the objective origin of the universe; on the contrary, it is a subjective vision (zhuguan jingjie 主觀境界), a kind of empty mind of practical subjectivity (Mou 1985: 160–62). This view comes not from a close reading of the Laozi, but rather belongs to a great construction that subsumes Daoism and Buddhism into a new Confucian metaphysical system. Mou’s interpretation of Laozi’s Dao is part of his own philosophical construction of a new Confucianism instead of a faithful understanding of Laozi’s text in its own right.

One of Mou’s students, Yuan Pao-hsin 袁保新, not satisfied with either Chen’s or Mou’s interpretations, presents a new theory that asserts Dao is the metaphysical foundation of the realm of values. Yuan believes that this avoids Mou’s subjectivized definition of Dao and resolves the gap between the ontological and axiomatic spheres in Chen’s interpretation (Yuan 1991). Whether or not we agree with Chen or Yuan, the issue remains: why may human actions deviate from the principle or course of Dao? Are we satisfied with Chen’s answer?

In a more ambitious endeavor Charles Fu (1933–1996) presented an interpretation of Laozi’s metaphysics of Dao by employing a complex method that combines linguistic and philosophical analyses, and by comparing Laozi with Spinoza, Heidegger, and Buddhism. Fu assumes that the Laozi “creates a naturalist metaphysics of Dao sub specie aeternitatis” (Fu 1973: 368). He further argues:

As in the case of Spinoza, Laozi’s metaphysical attention is essentially focused on Nature as such or (the totality of) things-as-they-are, without positing or speculating upon what possibly exists behind or beyond Nature. Unlike Spinoza, however, Laozi’s metaphysics of Dao is not merely non-dualistic, it is also non-conceptual: It is not structured in any kind of conceptual or propositional framework such as has characterized the Western philosophical tradition since Parmenides and Plato. For Dao is not an entity, substance, God, abstract notion, Hegelian Weltgeist, or anything hypostatized or conceptualized. Dao is, if you like, no more than a metaphysical symbol Laozi uses to denote, without any distortion, Nature itself in terms of the spontaneous self-so-ness (ziran) of the world and man (Fu 1973: 369).

Fu is absolute right that Laozi’s thought is not a Western “conceptual or propositional framework.” And he is inspiring in his assertion that Laozi’s Dao is a metaphysical symbol. However, according to our textual reading, it is difficult to accept his claim that the Dao symbol indicates Nature itself (see the section above on ziran or civilized naturalness). Fu’s philosophical explication of Laozi’s conception of Dao explores six dimensions:

• 1. Dao as reality

• 2. Dao as origin

• 3. Dao as principle

• 4. Dao as function

• 5. Dao as virtue

• 6. Dao as technique

Numbers (2) to (6) can be subsumed as “manifestations to us” (ibid.: 367). “Reality” and “manifestation” are two perspectives on or aspects of Dao, which is a symbol reflecting Laozi’s metaphysical way of understanding the totality of things-as-they-are (ibid.: 373–74). “These six dimensions are not ‘categories’ or ‘attributes’ in the Western (conceptual) sense, but are inseparable aspects of Dao reconstructed from the Laozi in order to show the best possible way of understanding Laozi’s metaphysical thinking” (Fu 1973: 367).

Fu’s deep thinking and broad associations between Laozi and Western thought have contributed many thought-provoking insights that deserve our admiration. While I appreciate and accept many of his ideas and approach, I think his interpretation is overly influenced by Spinoza, and in the end is more a modern and creative construction than a historical and textual investigation. However, since his purpose is modern reconstruction or creative interpretation, instead of close textual interpretation, this may be discounted. Little wonder that he would later publish an essay officially advocating creative hermeneutics (Fu 1976). Given his goals and approach, we may say he contributed a representative model of creative hermeneutical work for our examination and discussion.

There have been many brief interpretations of Dao, which we will not discuss in detail, but they can be helpful in our thinking about how to understand Laozi’s Dao. For example, Dao is a mysterious “ineffable reality” (Schwartz 1985: 194), “the source of all things,” (Graham 1987: 219), and a “metaphysical monistic absolute—the Chinese equivalent of Parmeniedean being” (Hansen 1992: 13). Ivanhoe’s summary presents a brief yet comprehensive understanding: “The dao is the source, sustenance, and ideal pattern for all things in the world. It is hidden and difficult to grasp but not metaphysically transcendent. In the apt metaphor of the text, it is the ‘root’ of all things” (Ivanhoe 2002: xxii). All these characterizations of Dao are useful for a more comprehensive understanding and better wording for our interpretation.

4.2 A Faithful Reading and Interpretation

After briefly reviewing these various modern understandings and interpretations of Dao, we find countless divergent theories. This raises many questions: Is Dao metaphysical in the traditional sense? Is it cosmological or ontological? Transcendent or immanent? Substance or principle? Matter or idea? Objective or normative? Mysterious or natural? Entity or symbol? Reality or vision? Humanistic or naturalist? Religious or philosophical? Among all these different and opposing positions, each side has its supporters. This fact suggests that none of our modern (mostly Western) philosophical concepts is a good match for Laozi’s Dao, though each one may be apt or suitable to account for specific aspects and to certain degrees. To borrow A. C. Graham’s observation, the trouble with our terms “is not that they do not fit at all but that they always fit imperfectly; they can help us towards Dao, but only if each formulation in its inadequacy is balanced by the opposite which diverges in the other direction”(Graham 1987: 219).

To try to understand Dao as precisely as possible, we have to return to the text itself repeatedly, reading closely and meticulously not only word by word and sentence by sentence, but also paying attention to a possible whole picture, that is, the relative consistency of meaning across the text. The expression “relative consistency” assumes that the Laozi contains, in certain degree, systematic and consistent theories. It is consistent and coherent, if in a weak or slack sense, rather than in accordance with the strict criteria of modern logic. Thus I disagree with the claim that “there is no topic that the Laozi systematically addresses” (Moeller 2006: 3), which may come from the expectation that the Laozi as a treatise must proceed in line with modern logic and argumentation. After the fashion of ancient Chinese exposition, the text does indeed exhibit persistent interest in certain themes.

The first theme of interest concerns the origin of the universe. Chapter 42 reads:

Dao generated the One (sheng yi,生一), the One generated the two, the two generated the three, and the three generated the myriad things.²⁵

This is quite like a process of universal temporal evolution. The meaning of “generate” or “produce” (sheng 生) is simple if we read it straightforwardly, but this easy passage has produced conflicting readings and arguments. This probably started with Wang Bi’s (226–249 CE) commentary. Its exegesis on this passage says:

Although the myriad things exist in myriad forms, they all revert to the One (qi gui yi ye 其歸一也). Why do they all ultimately become One (heyou zhiyi 何由致一)? It is due to non-being (wu 無). Because One comes from non-being, can One be still called non-being? Because we already call it “One,” how can there not be a word for it? Because we have this word and because we have the One, how can there not be two? Because we have the One and have these two, this consequently gives birth to three… (Lynn 1999: 135)

Wang’s expressions guiyi 歸一 (revert to the One, reduce to or return to the One) and zhiyi (致一, become One) are apparently not about the origin of the universe, irrelevant with Laozi’s shengyi 生一. According to Wang, Laozi’s claim that Dao generated the One, two, and three does not necessarily describe a physical process of universal evolution. Wang’s explanation is more like an intellectual inference and language game influenced by the Logic school (mingjia 名家) in the late Warring States period. Wang’s exegesis is closer to ontological theory than cosmological hypothesis. Thus Tang Yongtong 湯用彤 (1893–1964) has suggested that Laozi’s philosophy is cosmological and it was Wang Bi who first formulated Chinese ontological theories, taking wu 無 or non-being as ontic (Tang 1983: 195, 214).

Tang’s argument has been championed, ignored, and challenged. Much depends on how one reads the word sheng 生. Mou Zongsan proceeds from Wang Bi’s idea and proclaims that the word sheng in the Laozi refers merely to a gesture, not actually production, and so he reduces the meaning of Dao to a subjective vision. Similarly, after reviewing the cosmological understanding, Fu claims:

Philosophically speaking… the ontological interpretation under the form of eternity, is far more acceptable. And the passage about “Dao generates One” should be re-rendered philosophically as “Dao (metaphysically) comes before One…Three (metaphysically) comes before all things.” Taking the ontological version of Laozi’s cosmological thinking, I would maintain that Dao is the ontological ground of all things in the non-conceptual, symbolic sense; and One, Two, and Three can be regarded simply as the ontological symbols pointing to the truth that what is non-differentiated is that upon which what is differentiated is metaphysically dependent. (Fu 1973: 378)

Both Fu and Mou try to explain away the cosmological meaning of Chapter 42, but their aim is philosophical construction; again, this is different from our job here, which is to pursue primary textual reading and close contextual interpretation.

In the most straightforward reading, sheng 生 means to generate, produce or bring about, though not necessarily as mother gives a birth to a baby. As for the One, two, and three, these have been assigned various identities, such as ultimate reality, yin and yang, the harmony of yin and yang, etc. However, these interpretations are not necessary; in any case, they cannot be tested, though they may represent best guesses. Wing-tsit Chan has pointed out:

It is often understood that the One is the original material force or the Great Ultimate, the two are yin and yang, the three are their blending with the original material force, and the ten-thousand things are things carrying yin and embracing yang. However, there is no need to be specific. The important point is the natural evolution from the simple to the complex without any act of creation. This theory is common to practically all Chinese philosophical schools. (Chan 1973: 161)²⁶

Chan’s interpretation of “natural evolution” (different from biological evolution theory) is simple, plain, close to the text itself, and so is more acceptable and better than any attempts to specify the One, two, and three. The reason is evident. Laozi does not try to identify what is One, two, and three because that identification lies beyond his attention and focus. The essential aim of this passage is to present a hypothesis about how the myriad things happen to evolve from nothing to something, from the sole to the multiple, and from the simple to the complicated. This is a kind of abstract formula that accounts for the origin and evolution of the universe. We do not need to read external terms and theories into it if our job is to understand the Laozi in itself rather than create our own new theory. If you suppose the world comes from fire, then the questions would be, Why? How to prove it? And what came before it? If we understand Dao, One, two, and three as symbols without any specific content, the formula becomes simple, clear, and logical, without philosophical or scientific difficulties. This understanding also makes it easier to accommodate other theories and new discoveries, even the Big Bang theory, that have been continuously developing as scientific and theoretical inquiry has proceeded.

A second consistent interest is the question of whether or not Dao is wu 無 (nothing, non-being). Laozi never answers this question explicitly, but Chapter 40 presents an implicit answer in its discussion of wu 無 and you 有 (being, there is). Different translations of this passage represent various understandings about Dao and wu. Chan’s translation is conceptual: “All things in the world come from being (you 有), and being comes from non-being (wu 無)” (Chan 1963: 173). D.C. Lau has: “The myriad creatures in the world are born from Something (you), and Something from Nothing (wu)” (Lau 2001: 61). Ivanhoe tries to avoid using a technical term: “The world and all its creatures arise from what is there (you); What is there arises from what is not there (wu).” (Ivanhoe 2002: 43) The ten-thousand things (wanwu 萬物) come from you, and you in turn comes from wu, thus you and wu represent two phases in a sequence, not a pair at the same level. Obviously, wu is the ultimate origin. Since according to chapter 42 Dao produces ten-thousand things, it is easy to infer from chapters 40 and 42 that Dao is equal to wu. But Laozi does not present this conclusion; that step was left to Wang Bi, who lived roughly seven centuries later. While Laozi does not say Dao as the ultimate is wu, Wang takes Dao to be wu and makes wu the foundation of all beings. Therefore, wu in Wang’s philosophy can be rendered as non-being, while in Laozi’s text, it is better understood as simply “nothingness” or “what is not there.” However, this conclusion is based only on chapters 40 and 42.

Wu or nothingness fits the meaning of Dao as the source of the universe; however, when Laozi discusses Dao’s features or characteristics, Dao is not simply nothingness. Instead, it features both aspects: It has the character of you and the character of wu, which are expressed as “nameless” (wuming 無名) and “named” (youming 有名), respectively, in Chapter 1. Nameless equals wu (non-being), denoting the mysterious aspects of Dao that lie beyond human observation and comprehension, while named equals to you (being), which suggests and confirms Dao’s existence and functions so that humans can imagine and describe it. Chapter 1 of the silk manuscript version can be rendered as “Nameless (wuming 無名), Dao is the beginning of myriad things (wanwu); Named (youming 有名), it is the mother of myriad things (wan-wu 萬物).” Unlike the received versions, this couplet repeats myriad things in association to both the nameless and named, which suggests that you (being) and wu (non-being) are equally features of Dao.²⁷ In this context, Dao’s implicit you and wu are equal opposites in a pair, as distinct from their relationship in the cosmological process, in which you (beings) emerges from wu (nothingness). Dao’s features, you and wu, should not be confused with you and wu in the physical world and human life. When Chapter 2 states: “‘What there is (you 有)’ and ‘what there is not (wu 無)’ generate each other,” it by no means applies to Dao, or to the general relationship of you and wu.

Thus, we find wu in three different contexts. The first is the source of the universe, or the state before anything has appeared; this wu is just “nothingness”; later Wang Bi adjusts this to a more conceptual and abstract “Non-Being” as the reality of the universe. The second aspect of wu, together with you, constitutes a pair of features of Dao. These two concepts belong to the metaphysical level and should not be confused with the notions in physical realm. Again, the word “metaphysical” is not to be taken in the Platonic sense; on the contrary, Dao is imminent in all the myriad things. The third aspect of wu is a notion or phenomena opposite to you in the empirical world. At this level, wu and you transform from and into each other. Thus, wu is indeed a critical concept in Laozi’s philosophy, but these three senses of wu should not be confused.

All told we find 101 references to wu in Wang’s version of the Laozi, but most of these are in the form of negative adjectives and adverbs, and not used as a technical philosophical concept. Only in three cases is wu used as a philosophical term: once in Chapter 40 where it is described as the ultimate source (beings comes from nothingness); another is in Chapter 2, about the mutual independence of wu and you in physical world (being and non-being generate each other); and the third is in Chapter 11 where Laozi describes the advantages and utility wu presents for human life (Only by relying on emptiness (wu), do we have use of the room).

Dao is not only the source, but also the sustaining power and normative model of all beings. These latter functions are usually associated with and embodied by de 德, another term difficult to render, though it is usually translated as “virtue” or “power.” De essentially denotes Dao’s function, feature, and principle as these are embodied in individual beings. Chapter 51 of the silk manuscript versions states: “Dao generates (myriad things), and de rears them. Things take shape, and vessels are formed. This is why the myriad things all revere Dao and honor de.” More important is xuande 玄德, profound or mysterious virtue, which we discussed above as a special feature of the sage.

4.3 Summary of Dao

Dao is an indefinite and ambiguous term with a core meaning. This feature seems a disadvantage, especially to modern philosophers who are used to defining concepts and propositions clearly. But in Laozi’s case, in the context of cosmological and ontological issues that have eluded resolution by the measurements of science and mathematics, this might well be reckoned an advantage and a strength. We should pay attention to Laozi’s naming Dao. The bamboo-slip version of Chapter 25 reads: “There was some shape (zhuang 狀) undifferentiated and yet complete, which arose before Heaven and Earth. Still and indistinct, it stands alone and unchanging.”²⁸ This is speculation on the primordial origins of universe, but a more significant claim follows: “It can be regarded as the mother of the universe. Not yet knowing its name, I have styled it Dao; forced to give it a proper name, I would call it Great.” This reluctant attitude and ambiguous statement must derive from foresight and discretion. Laozi seems to know that he himself and even mankind have no grounds to suppose any specific things about the origin and basis of the universe. The concrete things human beings know, such as fire, water, wind, and earth, could not have produced the whole universe. This sounds logical and in accord with scientific principles. What Laozi is sure about is that there must be a beginning stage and state from which the universe evolved, and it could be the ground that maintains the universe, including the myriad things. He could not, however, know exactly what it might be. For him, Dao was simply a compromise, a symbol for that stage and state, as well as the ground of the universe. If Laozi is forced to name it, he will say its name is Great. Obviously, “great” is not a proper name, but an exclamation. Laozi’s attitude is logical and rational, even acceptable, from modern philosophical and scientific standpoint, because it is compatible with various theories about the origins of the universe. Thus, we may not have to attempt a precise and specific definition for it.

Let us conclude with a brief summary of what we know about Laozi’s concept of Dao.

• 1. The concept of Dao was invented by Laozi for answering the question, what is the source and ground of the universe? What is the root of universal originality and consistency? (just like Chen Chung-hwan’s binding principle.)

• 2. Dao as the origin of the universe indicates nothingness, from where all beings evolve and develop; however, Dao as the ground of the universe features a combination of both you (being) and wu (non-being).

• 3. The concept of Dao is just a style and symbol of a supposed universal source and ground, which Laozi and mankind cannot know or even name.

• 4. Dao as the ground of the universe penetrates the myriad things and maintains their existence and development. This is a key feature of metaphysics in Chinese thought wherein entity and principle are mutually engaged.

• 5. Thus, human beings should take their model from Dao to lead a better life; Dao in turn models itself on ziran: civilized order and civil conditions are the natural state of society.

• 6. Dao’s operation embodies and supports the reversion of the myriad things in the empirical world.²⁹

5 Conclusion

We have briefly discussed the core meanings of three key terms and theories in the Laozi, namely, ziran (natural order in civilized societies), wuwei (imperceptible yet effectual action, a transcending negation), and Dao (the source and ground of the universe). These three aspects of Laozi’s thought should not be understood as separate or isolated. They are associated in a roughly coherent system in which they support and interpenetrate each other. Dao provides metaphysical support for the highest value ziran, and wuwei provides a principled method by which to realize that value. Ziran and wuwei also embody the features and character of Dao.

A more comprehensive picture of the system of Laozi’s philosophy must also take into account the theory of reversion or transformational oppositions, and de (德), especially xuande (玄德), the profound and mysterious virtue. The brief analyses presented above are sufficient to demonstrate that the Laozi deserves more serious academic investigation and discussion from various approaches, textual, objective, comparative, and creative, and for different purposes, historical, philosophical, contemporary, and practical (Liu 2008–2009, 2009a). Even so, a faithful and meticulous reading of the primary text is the necessary foundation to a clear and reliable understanding of the Laozi’s thought.³⁰