The Useless Tree

Mozi on the House Republicans

Yesterday, as I was watching the political debacle in DC unfold on my Twitter feed, I was simultaneously proof-reading a piece for the upcoming Berkshire Dictionary of Chinese Biography. I have written an entry for Mozi, the great pre-Qin philosopher who inspired a significant school of thought, Mohism.  I should say right up front that I am not a Mohist. Their politics are overly authoritarian for my tastes; but I am fascinated by Mozi: how he developed a utilitarian and empiricist philosophy - quite an alternative to Confucianism - but also how he fell into utter irrelevance after the Qin dynasty.  Maybe they should make a movie about him...

In any event, there was John Boehner, going down to crushing defeat as the Republican caucus in the House fractured into factional in-fighting.  The center did not hold because there was no center, just small groups of self-interested political actors driven by narrow ideological concerns.  "Herding cats" hardly captures the chaos.  And then my eyes shifted to this passage from Mozi:

Master Mo Zi spoke, saying: “Ancient times, when people first came into being, were times when there were as yet no laws or government, so it was said that people had differing principles. This meant that, if there was one person, there was one principle; if there were two people, there were two principles; and if there were ten people, there were ten principles. The more people there were, the more things there were that were spoken of as principles. This was a case of people affirming their own principles and condemning those of other people. The consequence of this was mutual condemnation. In this way, within a household, father and sons, and older and younger brothers were resentful and hostile, separated and dispersed, and unable to reach agreement and accord with each other. Throughout the world, people all used water and fire, and poisons and potions to injure and harm one another. As a result, those with strength to spare did not use it to help each other in their work, surplus goods rotted and decayed and were not used for mutual distribution, and good doctrines were hidden and obscured and not used for mutual teaching. So the world was in a state of disorder comparable to that amongst the birds and beasts. (Johnston, 91)

Pretty much captures the extraordinary ineptitude of the contemporary Republican party: "The more people there were, the more things there were that were spoken of as principles. This was a case of people affirming their own principles and condemning those of other people." Perhaps we should subject these people to the kinds of punishment Mozi also recommended:

Those who were unworthy [were] curbed and demoted, impoverishing them and debasing them by making them followers and servants. (Johnston, 63)

Does Ted Cruz do windows?  He should....

Chen Guangcheng, Mozi, and Daoism

This just in from a Reuters profile of Chen Guangcheng:

From Chinese history, Chen said he admired 5th-century BC philosopher Mo Tzu, and Taoism founder Lao Tzu, the works of which had also been read aloud to him.

I must say it's great to see a reference to Mozi (Mo Tzu), an odd man out in the cannons of Chinese thought.  He, and his followers, were extraodinarily influential in pre-Qin times, but they fall out of the picture for centuries until being "rediscovered" in the Qing. 

And it makes perfect sense that Chen, a man seeking consistent application of the law to all Chinese equally, would be inspired by Mozi.  Perhaps the most famous concept associated with Mozi is jianai - 兼爱.   For a long time the most common translation, coming from Burton Watson, had been "universal love."  This always struck me as a bit too hippy-ish.  Ivanhoe and Van Norden render it: "impartial caring," which strikes me as better.  While Fraser goes with "inclusive care," also good. 

What is common to all of these translations is a divergence from Confucianism, which, generally, tells us that our obligations to our family and closest relations are of greater importance than our obligations to others outside of those more immediate social networks.  That is not to say that Confucianism does not recognize obligations to strangers; it does.  Rather, it formulates an ethical hierarchy of sorts, positing the fulfillment of family duties as more important than fulfillment of duties outside the family. 

Mozi rejects such ethical particularism.  Here is a sample:

Our teacher Mozi says, “If people regarded other people’s sates in the same way that they regard their own, who then would incite their own state to attack that of another?  For one would do for others as one would do for oneself.  If people regarded other people’s cities in the same way that they regard their own, who then would incite their own city to attack that of another?  For one would do for others as one would do for oneself.  If people regarded other people’s families in the same way that they regard their own, who then would incite their own family to attack that of another?  For one would do for others as one would do for oneself.  And so if states and cities do not attack one another and families do not wreak havoc upon and steal from one another, would this be a harm to the world or a benefit?  Of course one must say it is a benefit to the world.”   (Ivanhoe and Van Norden translation, 68-69)

Classical golden rule thinking: do unto others as you would have them do unto you. Of course, Confucius also articulated the golden rule, though in the negative: don't do to others what you would not want done to yourself.  The general sense, positive or negative, is the same.  The key difference, however, is that Confucius qualifies the universality of ethical reciprocity by his focus on family-first morality. 

Mozi is is more universal, more inclusive.  He rejects the idea that family obligations should always trump ourmore general obligation to maintain equal concern and treatment for all, an idea that comes close to modern, liberal notions of equality. 

But Mozi is not a liberal. Far from it.  He advocated for a centralized, monocratic administrative system run by a strong leader who rigorously enforced political unity. Ultimately, Mozi's politics is about the suppression of politics in the name of authoritarian stability.   I suspect these are not quite the aspects of Mozi's thinking that Chen value.  But who knows?  Chen has not experienced the dynamic, chaotic give-and-take of democratic politics.  His stay in the US will certainly be instructive in this regard.

So, I guessing Chen like Mozi for his inclusive/impartial care doctrine.

As to Daoism, it is easy to see how Chen would be drawn to Zhuangzi and the Daodejing.  Both texts value individuals at the margins of society: the weak, the poor, the disabled.  They also put forth powerful critiques of the powerful and the rich.  As here in  Daodejing 75:

The people are starving, and it's only because you leaders feast on taxes that they're starving.

The people are impossible to rule, and it's only because you leaders are masters of extenuation that they're impossible to rule.

The people take death lightly, and it's only because you leaders crave lavish pleasures that they take death lightly,

they who act without concern for life: it's a wisdom far beyond treasuring life.

Sounds very much like something Chen would say himself...

Mozi and the denial of politics

Wow... it's been two weeks since my last post.  The blog silence is due to summer torpor (rather hot here...) and some other writing distractions (projects past due but now done - hooray!)   One of those diversions is an encyclopedia entry, for Berkshire Publishing, on the ancient thinker, Mozi.

They asked me to do this at the end of last year and I sent it in last week, one day before it was formally due.  It is for a biographical encyclopedia and by the time they asked me to contribute other of the iconic classical figures - Confucius, "Laozi," Mencius - were already assigned.  I liked the idea of doing Mozi, since I know him and his work less well - this was an opportunity to dig more deeply into his thought.  And that was made all the more possible with Ian Johnston's magisterial new translation of Mozi.  

In any event, one idea that came to mind when thinking Mohist thoughts was the conception of the political.  Mozi begins his political theory (which is very well summarized by Chris Fraser, here) with a state of nature argument: before humanly created structures and processes of government, people tended to pursue diverse and contradictory notions of the good that yielded a violent disorder.  Here is an excerpt from Johnston's translation:

Master Mo Zi spoke, saying: “Ancient times, when people first came into being, were times when there were as yet no laws or government, so it was said that people had differing principles.  This meant that, if there was one person, there was one principle; if there were two people, there were two principles; and if there were ten people, there were ten principles.  The more people there were , the more things there were that were spoken of as principles.  This was a case of people affirming their own principles and condemning those of other people.  The consequence of this was mutual condemnation.  In this way, within a household, father and sons, and older and younger brothers were resentful and hostile, separated and dispersed, and unable to reach agreement and accord with each other.  Throughout the world, people all used water and fire, and poisons and potions to injure and harm one another.  As a result, those with strength to spare did not use it to help each other in their work, surplus goods rotted and decayed and were not used for mutual distribution, and good doctrines were hidden and obscured and not used for mutual teaching.  So the world was in a state of disorder comparable to that amongst the birds and beasts. (91)

This is not just an image of a miserable past but also a vision of a possible future.  Rather like Hobbes, Mozi uses the fear of a violent state of nature as justification for a highly centralized, hierarchic, sovereign political structure headed by a wise ruler - a Son of Heaven - who will enforce doctrinal uniformity through judicious use of material incentives and punishments.  Diversity of opinion and/or interest are, for Mozi, the underlying cause of political disorder and, therefore, must repressed.  Thus, terms like "totalitarian" and "authoritarian" are often used to describe Mohist politics.

Sounds familiar, doesn't it?  When we look for the historical roots of contemporary PRC authoritarianism, we often make rather facile assertions about "Confucianism" - facile because they commonly are based on a rather narrow understanding of classical Confucian thought and typically ignore the political effects of the twentieth century.  We further assume that since Mohism was eclipsed in the post-Qin period, it has nothing to say about imperial or contemporary Chinese experience.  But it may be the case, as Fraser suggests, that Mozi's authoritarian tendencies were absorbed by Xunzi and Han Feizi and in that way became a part of the unquestioned assumptions of Chinese statecraft.  Politically, Mao may have been as much of a Mohist as a Legalist - indeed, to the extent that Legalists care little for ideological uniformity (for them, as long as a person obeys the law, their political beliefs hardly matter), Mao may have been more of a Mohist.

But I digress....

The thought that came to mind about Mohist politics is that it is not really a politics, but a denial of politics.  Ultimately, politics is about difference, about managing conflicting interests and ideas.  While unity of thought and purpose might sound like a nice idea, at least insofar as avoiding more violent and inefficient conflict, it is largely fictitious.  Unanimity is, at best, momentary and fleeting.  Difference is durable and unavoidable.  Consensus never lasts.  Thus, a political theory that simply asserts that a wise ruler should impose unity is not really a political theory because it avoids the key political question of how difference is managed.  In the case of Mozi, it is even worse.  He tells us nothing about how the "wise leader" will be selected, nor how, beyound a vague invocation of the "will of heaven" a wise-leader-gone-bad will be removed from power.  The political thinking here seem to be: we'll find a good guy and he'll impose unity and order....  

In the meantime, class divisions, social and cultural differences, regional and geograpchic tensions, all the fragmentations and oppositions that define politics everywhere are simply assumed away.  A denial of politics, which results in the rationalization of the powers that be.... 

Mozi and Foreign Policy

A piece in the China Daily today invokes the great anti-Confucian, Mozi, as an inspiration for contemporary PRC foreign policy. Here's a short summary of some Mohist principles from the article:

Mozi said defensive strategies are more conducive than offensive for a country's survival. He was strongly against unjust wars, which, he said, would only provoke fierce resistance and trigger moral condemnation from all quarters. The price of aggression would include not only material loss, but also the loss of prestige and reputation. This means the cost of offensive strategy far outweighs the gains.

Ironically, the article invokes these ideas in reference to the recent tensions in the South China Sea.  While it is nice to see a PRC analyst saying that China does not seek hegemony, it must be remembered that the PRC claims, effectively, the entirety of the South China Sea, a position that antagonizes several other countries in the region. 

That claim, in its explicit challenge to long-standing territorial claims of other states, is violation the the Mohist principles mentioned in the CD article.  It is inherently offensive.

But I want to turn this in another direction: toward Taiwan.

If the PRC is really serious about embracing the Mohist aversion to offensive warfare, then consistency would demand that it renounce the use of force in its dealings with Taiwan.  Such a renunciation is not forthcoming, as fas as I know.

Mozi is fundamentally against killing as an instrument of foreign policy:

If someone kills one man, he is condemned as unrighteous and must pay for his crime with his own life.  According to this reasoning, if someone kills ten men, then he is ten times as unrighteous and should pay for his crime with ten lives, or if he kills a hundred men he is a hundred times as unrighteous and should pay for his crime with a hundred lives.

Now all gentlemen in the world know enough to condemn such crimes and brand them as unrighteous.  And yet when it comes to the even greater unrigtheousness of offensive warfare against other states, they do not know enough to condemn it.  On the contrary, they praise it and call it righteous.  Truly they do not know what righteousness is.... (51)

This would apply to the de facto independent state of Taiwan, which a mainland government has ruled for only about 3.5 years out of the last 116.  The prospect of large-scale human losses in any attack on the island should, according to Mohist principles, rule out as "unrighteous" any such plan. 

Moreover, the expansion of PRC military capabilities, a good portion of which is aimed at Taiwan, also runs afoul of Mozi.  Here's a passage from part 3 of his chapter "Against Offensive Warfare" (Watson, 54-55):

When a state which delights in aggressive warfare raises an army, it must have several hundred high officers, several thousand regular officers, and a hundred thousand soldiers, before it can set out.  The time required fore the expedition will be several years at the longest, several months at the least.  During that time the leaders will have no time to attend to affairs of government, the officials no time to manage their departments of state, the farmers no time to sow or reap, the women no time to spin or weave.  So in this case the state will lose its fighting men and the common people will be forced to abandon their occupations....

In other words, beyond the immorality of coercive violence, militarization distorts the polity, economy and society in ways that undermine the common good.  There's really nothing good that come of it.

Too bad this message is lost in Beijing and Washington and many other capitals around the world.   And too bad the CD article is wrong: Mohism does not serve as a serious source of foreign policy principles for China.

The Philosophic Basis for Philanthropy in China

Billionaires Bill Gates and Warren Buffet are encouraging wealthy Chinese businessmen to take up philothropic giving.  The WaPo picks up the story and speculates on why there has not been mucn in the way of charitble donation in China.  Invariably, Confucianism is invoked:

Chen [Guangbioa] said he felt anger and shame after hearing from the Gates Foundation that many invitees called to make sure they would not have to donate. That same night, he said, he woke up at 1 a.m. and penned a 1,070-word letter on his company's website announcing his plan to leave his entire fortune - estimated at $440 million - to causes such as education and environmental protection groups.

The decision, he acknowledged, breaks with the Chinese tradition of leaving wealth for your descendants and also with Confucian values of first taking care of your family, and then your country. But he says his wife and children have been supportive.

It is true that Confucianism emphasizes familial obligations.  We must attend to our duties to parents and children and relatives, and, if there are conflicting social obligations, family duties should take precedence.  But this, in and of itself (i.e. free from un-Confucian utilitarian or Legalist influences), need not preclude or discourage philanthropy.  We should make sure that our family members have a sufficent, perhaps even comfortable, existence.  But beyond that sufficiency, we should be generous to others, even strangers.  Especially in the case of the very wealthy, there is nothing in Confucianism that would suggest children and family members should be bequeathed all of a persons estate.  Consider these two passages from The Analects:

When Adept Hua was sent to Ch'i on a mission, his mother was running short of supplies, so Jan Ch'iu asked that she be given grain.

"Give her a basketful," replied the Master.

Jan Ch'iu asked for more.

"Alright, give her a bushel," replied the Master.

Jane gave her twenty-five bushels, whereupon the Master said: "Hua set off for Ch'i riding a sleek horse and wearing light furs.  I have heard that the noble-minded give to help the needy, not to subsidize the wealthy."  6.3 (6.4 in some versions)

Confucius is concerned because Hua is well off, and should be able to provide for his mother.  But clearly Confucius is upholding the idea that the "noble-mineded give to help the needy, not to subsidize the wealthy" - 君子周急不繼富.

In the very next passage of The Analects this same idea is reinforced:

When he was appointed regent, Yuan Szu was offered nine hundred measures of grain, but he refused.  The Master said: "Why refuse? Aren't there people in your neighborhoods and villages who need that grain?" 6.4 (or 6.5)

Yuan does not need the food for himself or his family.  But Confucuis says he should take the surplus and distribute it to those in need - 以與爾鄰里鄉黨乎.

In this same spirit much could be said of Mencius's stance that the wealthy should share their food and comforts not only with their families but with people, and that would include poor and destitute people, more generally.

But let's take a quick turn toward Daoism.  The Daodejing tells us:

The Way of heaven is like a drawn bow pulling down the high and raising up the low;

it takes away where there's abundance and restores where there's want.

The Way of heaven takes away where there's abundance and restores where there's want, but the Way of humankind isn't like that: it takes away where there's want and gives where there's abundance.

Only a master of Way can give abundance to all beneath heaven.  Such a sage acts without presumption and never dwells on success:

great worth has no need to be seen. 77

The Way of humankind is greedy and selfish - taking away where there's want and giving where there's abundance - the rich get richer and the poor get poorer.  I think it is important to keep in mind that this is not an irremedial, fundamental human nature - Daoism does not assume a consistent, unchanging human nature.  Rather, we should take it as an observation: selfishness and greed are manifest in some, perhaps even many, human interactions.  But there is also the possibility of more generous behavior.  The "Sage," a person who opens him- or herself to Way, or here the Way of heaven, and follows in its unfolding, can come to counteract the Way of humankind.  People who live with Way can "give abundance to all beneath heaven."  That is the ideal.  Generosity - taking away where there is abundance and giving where there's want - is possible and preferable.

We could go on.  If we add in Mohism (with its notion of "inclusive care"), to Confucianism and Daoism, we will find a multifaceted and firm philosophical foundation for philanthropy in China.  Thus, whatever the reasons for the hesitations of some Chinese millionaires and billionaires to give to the needy, we should not blame Confucianism or Chinese philosophy...

Mo Zi on Condemning Offensive Warfare

I am leafing through the magnificent new complete translation of Mozi by Ian Johnston.  It will take a long time to absorb and appreciate fully this great work.  But here is a passage that caught my eye:

Now suppose there was someone who, when he saw a little bit of black, called it black, but when he saw a lot of black, called it white.  We would certainly take this person to be someone who did not know the difference between white and black.  [Likewise], suppose there was someone who, when he tasted a little bitterness, called it bitter, but when he tasted a lot, called it sweet.  We would certainly take this person to be someone who did not know the difference between sweet and bitter.  Now when something small is a crime, people know and condemn it.  When something great is a crime, like attacking states, then they don't know and condemn [it], but go along with it and praise it, calling it righteous.  Can this be spoken of as knowing the difference between what is righteous and what is not righteous?  This is how we know that the gentlemen of the world are confused about the distinction between what is righteous and what is not righteous. (169)

Mozi Query

So, I read Mo Zi with a student over the past week and a half.  She wrote a nice little paper, outlining the key Mohist critiques of Confucianism - i.e the critique of partiality, the critique of elaborate funerals, the critique of music.  All of this was quite straightforward.  And she also noticed how, in the chapter entitled "Against Confucius," Mozi seems to lose his bearings.  Instead of recapitulating and developing the critiques of Confucianism he has made - and made effectively - earlier in the text, he falls into a rather childish name-calling.  This may be the most illustrative passage:

They [Confucians] are greedy for food and drink and too lazy to work, but though they find themselves threatened by hunger and cold, they refuse to change their ways.  They behave like beggars, stuff away food like hamsters, stare like he-goats, and walk around like castrated pigs. (132)

What's next?  The veritable "you're mother's a...." curse?

What is most striking about this turn to ad hominem, is how different it is from the logical, analytical argumentative style of the rest of the text.

So here is a question for all those Mohist scholars out there: How do we understand Mozi's bitterness?  Is it class-based in that Mozi was purportedly an up-from-the-fields artisan who had to work hard for everything he had, while Confucians often came from the lower levels of aristocratic families?  Or is it more simply political: Mozi knows that the Confucians are a key rival for the ear of those in power so he has to go the extra mile to discredit them (even if doing so weakens the credibility of the earlier critiques)?  Or what?

And while we're at it, why, in that same "Against Confucians" chapter, does Mozi also throw in an easily refutable charge: that Confucians are fatalists?  That seems a charge easily countered, starting with Analects 15.29: "The Master said: 'People can make the Way great and vast.  But the Way isn't what makes people great and vast.'"  That doesn't sound all that fatalist to me....

Why does Mozi go so wrong in the "Against Confucians" chapter?

Heavenly Balance

Roland translates a Chinese blog post, "Is the CCTV fire an act of God?" (I would quibble here, preferring a translation: "Is the CCTV fire an act of Heaven" - original Chinese here).  The post speaks to the horrible fire that engulfed one of the buildings at the CCTV site in Beijing on Monday (and thank goodness the building was empty at the time, or the human toll would have been much worse...).  The blogger raises several issues, including the worries of some Chinese people that the fire is an inauspicious beginning to the new year as well as some subtle criticism of the PRC's political system:

...There are many possible explanations about any emergency disaster, each with its own reasons.  For example, different people have different explanations about the CCTV fire.  Some people say that it was negligence in safety management, some say that the fengshui of the place was bad, and some say that CCTV has aroused too much anger.  These explanations are each reasonable in their own way, but ultimately I believe that this fire was an act of of the Heavens.  Why do I think that this was not a man made error in which safety rules were broken and the advice from the Public Security Bureau was ignored?  Why do I say that this is an act of the Heavens?

When a person, or a group, or a political party, or a people arrives at a stage that nobody can warn or stop them, the only thing left is for the Heavens to punish them.  That would be an act of the Heavens.  CCTV is such a group.  For certain artificial reasons, the position of this group was elevated above others because it can help the survival of a certain political party.  As a result, CCTV can have or do anything that it wants.  Nobody can restrain it.  Many people know this for a fact, including former CCTV employees who know what goes on inside.

The idea of punishment from Heaven is an old one in Chinese philosophy.  Mo Zi (I am in a Mohist state of mind this week) is especially focused on this idea.  This is from the internet encyclopedia of philosophy's entry on Mo Zi:

Within the core chapters, the Mohists consistently portray Heaven as if it possesses personal characteristics and exists separately from human beings, though intervening in their affairs. In particular, they present Heaven if it is an entity having will and desire, and concerned about the welfare of the people of the world, even a providential agent that rewards the just and punishes the wicked through its control of natural phenomena or by means of its superhuman intermediaries, the spirits (guishen). Finally, Heaven and the spirits are also portrayed as the objects of reverence, sacrificial offerings and supplication ("Heaven's Will" B).

This notion of Heaven is not the same as the Christian idea of Heaven: there need not be a singular God figure who is the ruler or orchestrator of Heaven.  Rather, Heaven can be a rather more diffuse sense of fate and destiny, though in the Mohist view a more specific will of Heaven (something more concrete or particular than the "Mandate of Heaven"?) is certainly in play. 

The blogger, then, is giving modern expression to an ancient Chinese sensibility of Heaven as a regulator or legitimizing director of the human world.  And he (or she?) goes further by incorporating a yin-yang notion of balance, something that I associate most closely with the I Ching but which is infused throughout just about all pre-Qin thinking:

A sign from the Heavens or an act of the Heavens conveys a message.  The message may not be understood unless one is respectful and humble.  Although I don't fully understand it, I have figured out that one of the aspects is "balance."  This is the minimum demand by the Heavens for humans: balance.  This may sound profound, but it is actually very easy to explain.

The existence of everything is premised upon a certain balance that exists from the smallest atoms to the microbes to the solar system to the galaxy to the universe.  In humans, the balance is for the yin-yang, the bones, the muscles, the brains and the limbs.  In a society, the balance is for equality of wealth and political fairness.  In economics, the balance is between income and expenses and also asset structures.  There is no need to say more about the balance in nature.

CCTV, and the CCP that stands behind it, has gone too far in amassing and controlling power.  The political system is out of balance, and the fire is a act of Heaven that is pointing to that imbalance.  Interestingly, my friend Allan all but anticipated something like this in a post from February 7th, "Ominous Signs from Heaven?". 

It seems that Heaven is trying to tell us something.  It may be something more than China and CCTV and the CCP.  It might be a message to all of us, everywhere, to think about how we might be out of balance with one another and with the environment that surrounds us.  I think it may be time to consult the I Ching...

Inclusive Care

Reading Mozi for a class and thought I should post this paragraph, as it is a sentiment always worth pondering:

But how can partiality be replaced by universality?  If men were to regard the states of others as they regard their own, then who would raise up his state to attack the state of another?  It would be like attacking his own.  If men were to regard the cities of others as they regard their own, then who would raise up his city to attack the city of another?  It would be like attacking his own.  If men were to regard the families of others as they regard their own, then would raise his family to overthrow that of another?  It would be like overthrowing his own.  Now when states and cities do not attack and make war on each other and families and individuals do not overthrow or injure one another, is this a harm or a benefit to the world?  Surely it is a benefit. (40)

Universality, or the universalization of ethical norms, was a central project of Mozi's thought.  He pushed against Confucians, would particularized obligations by giving priority to family.  But however great the difference between the Mohists and the Confucians, the sense of ethical reciprocity, so clearly expressed in the paragraph above, is something they shared.   While he may hesitate at the Mohist notion of "universal love" (although I prefer the translation offered by the Stanford Encyclopedia people: "inclusive care"), Confucius shared Mozi's impulse to think about the perspective of the other, as in Analects 15.24:

Adept Kung asked: "Is there any one word that could guide a person throughout life?"  The Master replied: "How about 'shu:' never impose on others what you would not choose for yourself."