State of Nature Arguments

You can find them in various Classical Chinese philosophical texts, e.g., Mozi (the Shangtong triad), Mencius (3A5), Xunzi (Chapter 19, 20, 23), and even in Hanfeizi (Chapter 49). But let’s get clear on what sort of animal or animals we are talking about.

Traditionally, “state of nature” accounts are associated with ideas put forward by such thinkers as Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, and so on, each of whom proposed stories about what the lives of people must have been like before the genesis of civil society. By so doing, their aim is to illuminate the nature of civil society and justify its ways to us. The standard story, associated especially with Hobbes and Locke, talks about how life was nasty, short and brutish, a state of war of all against all in the state of nature, or at the very least, very inconvenient. And so civil society was formed–and here, the state of nature part of the story intersects with another important concept also associated with the same thinkers–through a social contract. But technically, the two ideas “state of nature” and “social contract” can be disaggregated.

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Analyzing Xunzi, Chapter 23 Part 3 (Readings, p. 305) (Updated)

[An update added 08102015] [An update to the earlier update added 09102015]

On Readings, p. 305, the objector is made to ask why, since (according to Xunzi), Sageliness is achieved through accumulation, not everyone can accumulate in this way and so acquire Sageliness? We can formulate the objection as follows:

(1) Everyone has the same nature.

(2) Everyone could become a (superlatively) virtuous agent. (From (1))

(3) Some people are virtuous agent, other people are not (some are vicious agents).

The objector is now asking: if (2) follows from (1)—as explained in the previous post—how is it that (3)? Why does everyone not become virtuous agents, let alone superlatively virtuous agents?

Xunzi gave a rather involved reply that required him to make several distinctions. The first thing he said was:

They could do it, but they cannot be made to do it. Thus, the petty man could (kěyǐ 可以) become a gentleman, but is not willing (bùkěn 不肯) to become a gentleman. The gentleman could become a petty man, but is not willing to become a petty man. It has never been that the petty man and gentleman are incapable of becoming each other. However, the reason they do not become each other is that while they could do so, they cannot be made to do so.

Two slightly different points seem to be made here. First,

(4) Some people are willing to do the things that would have allowed them to become a virtuous agent, others are unwilling.

Two quick comments: First, for simplicity’s sake, I’m taking “cannot be made to” as being equivalent to “is unwilling to”. Second, Xunzi has already spelt out what those things the doing of which would have allowed people to become virtuous agents previously (Readings, p. 305 top; see also the last part of the previous post). Anyway, the point now is that with (4), there isn’t a tension between (1)/(2) and (3) after all, since even though two persons have the same nature—and so both can become virtuous—one might be willing while the other unwilling, to do things that would have allowed either to become a virtuous agent.

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Analyzing Xunzi, Chapter 23 Part 2 (Readings, pp. 304-305)

On p. 303 of Readings, Xunzi considers the Confucian slogan (cf. Mencius 4B32, 6B2) “Anyone on the streets could become a Yu”, i.e., everyone can become a sage, a superlatively virtuous agent. At one level, the slogan does not pose a problem for Xunzi—he has already insisted that everyone has the same nature, therefore, if anyone could become virtuous, all could. But spelling this out properly is tricky since Xunzi needs his account not to imply that virtue is part of nature and that’s why all can become virtuous agents. He begins by way of something definitional:

(1) A (superlatively) virtuous agent is what he is because he exemplifies the various dimensions of virtue (“benevolence, righteousness, lawfulness, and correctness”).

We will also need to keep in mind other assumptions that are unstated in the text here, but needed for his argument to work:

(2) (Superlatively) virtuous agents exist.

(3) Everyone have the same nature.

Since actuality implies possibility, Xunzi draws two conclusions from the above:

(4) The various dimensions of virtue have patterns that are knowable and practicable. (From (1), (2))

(5) Even the man on the street as the material for knowing, and the equipment for practicing, the various dimensions of virtue.* (From (1)-(4)).

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Analyzing Xunzi, Chapter 23 Part 1 (Readings, pp. 303-304)

On p. 303 of Readings, Xunzi considers the following objection: “Ritual and the standards of righteousness and the accumulation of deliberate effort are people’s nature, and that is why the sage is able to produce them.” It’s probably not right to think of Mencius as the main target in this section (considering that Mencius is not named, and Xunzi was not shy in naming Mencius as the opponent in other sections of the chapter). Rather, the opponent may be thought of as someone who thinks that there is good nature, and there is bad nature.

But let me first rephrase the objection as follows:

(1) A person comes to be a virtuous agent by his (accumulated) deliberate effort.

(2) The best explanation for how (1) is possible is that virtue is already part of his nature.

(3) Virtue is part of at least some people’s nature. (From (1), (2))

Xunzi’s reply is an argument by analogy, attacking (2):

(4) Clay comes to be tiles by the potter’s deliberate effort (shaping); wood comes to be utensils by the craftsman’s deliberate effort (carving)

(5) Neither the material (clay, wood), nor the final form (tiles, utensils), of the products are part of the potter or craftsman’s nature.

(6) The best explanation of (4) can’t be that either the material (clay, wood), or the final form (tiles, utensils), of the products are part of the potter or craftsman’s nature. (From (4) and (5))

(7) The best explanation for how (1) is possible is not that virtue is already part of our nature. (From (6) by analogy, showing that (2) is false)

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Process vs. Performance

I started on writing something about this in relation to the distinction that Lee Yearley drew in his paper “Zhuangzi’s Understanding of Skillfulness and the Ultimate Spiritual State”, but it went on for too long. What you have below can be considered “part 1”. I’ll close with a question and see if you guys can puzzle stuff out yourselves.

On p. 168 of his essay Lee Yearley invokes a distinction between two kinds of action that he says is derived from the Aristotelian tradition. This is the distinction between kinēsis (κινήσις), “process”, and energia (ἐνέργια), “performance” (“activity” in Irwin and Fine trans.). For now, I’m not overly worried about whether Yearley is accurate about Aristotle—it’s a slightly controversial thing in the scholarship. (For those who are interested, the locus is in Metaphysics IX.6; see Charles T. Hagen, “The ἘΝΕΡΓΕΙΑ-ΚΙΝΗΣΙΣ Distinction and Aristotle’s Conception of ΠΡΑΞΙΣ”, Journal of the History of Philosophy 22:3 (July 1984): 263-280 for a survey and analysis). Rather, I just want to work through the distinction as Yearly presents it and consider some of the ambiguities.

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Recap: Ineffability of dào

Philosophical Daoism is sometimes said to imply a position wherein dào is ineffable (from the Latin ineffābilis)—that it is not expressible or describable in words. What this means is actually ambiguous. And this is leaving aside the complex philosophical issues to do with the very concept of ineffability itself. I’ll focus on the possibilities that I mentioned in class.

First, the position may be that dào—taken to mean that which is responsible for the overall, underlying pattern of the universe (see the Glossary in Readings), or maybe more grandiosely, ultimate reality—is ineffable. It is impossible to give a proper representation of it using words. That this is a possible way in which the term is used in, say, the Daodejing, is not controversial (see e.g., Chapter 25; the same chapter expresses a reservation with calling it “dào”). But while this reading surely captures something of Philosophical Daoism, it doesn’t quite do sufficient justice to the passages about dào in the more usual sense as referring to the proper way for individuals to live their lives and communities to organize their affairs, which, as I have urged as a larger interpretive assumption about the early Chinese philosophical debates, was supposed to be the main issue of contention (see A. C. Graham, Disputers of the Tao, 25).

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Those Pipes in Zhuangzi, Chapter 2

A student asked how my account of the opening part of Zhuangzi, Chapter 2 is derived from the text. In particular, how did the pipes of the people, earth and Heaven lead to an account of the mind?

Basically, the interpretative hypothesis is that the various pipes (Readings 214) refer to the different mental faculties, and the various sounds they make the different sorts of emotions, thought, desires, etc., all the stuff that can happen in the mind. Two things that suggest the hypothesis—the fact that the discussion was supposed to be about the mind (i.e., xīn 心; “can the mind really be turned into dead ashes” top 214), and later, at the other end, the line “Happiness, anger, despair, joy, planning, sighing, bending, freezing, elegance, ease, candor, posturing. They are music out of emptiness, mist condensing into mushrooms… etc.” (Readings 215-216)

Alternatively, most of p. 214 is really about the different sounds that are thrown up by nature as the wind blows across various geological features (pipes of Earth), and other perturbations of nature (pipes of Heaven). But from the bottom of p. 214 until the top of p. 216, the focus switches to the mind. The implicit suggestion is that the things that happen in the mind are just like what came before with the pipes of Earth and pipes of Heaven—a cacophony of spontaneous happenings.

Either way, the descriptions on pp. 214-215 sets the stage for the argument on p. 216—there is no true master behind all the things that happen in the mind, etc.

If You and I Started Arguing

Since some students have questions to ask, below are some notes on the argument. First, the passage quoted:

Once [or “suppose”] you and I have started arguing [biàn 辯], if you win [shèng 勝] and I lose, then are you really right [shì 是] and am I really wrong [fēi 非]? If I win and you lose, then am I really right and are you really wrong? Is one of us right and the other one wrong? Or are both of us right and both of us wrong?

If you and I can’t understand one another, then other people will certainly be even more in the dark. Whom shall we get to set us right [zhèng 正]? Shall we get someone who agrees [tóng 同] with you to set us right? But if they already agree with you how can they set us right? Shall we get someone who agrees with me to set us right? But if they already agree with me, how can they set us right? Shall we get someone who disagrees with both of us to set us right? But if they already disagree with both of us, how can they set us right? Shall we get someone who agrees with both of us to set us right? But if they already agree with both of us, how can they set us right? If you and I and they all can’t understand each other, should we wait for someone else? (Readings 223)

The Neo-Mohist background:

The close proximity of “win (over)” (shèng 勝) and disputation (biàn 辯) is intriguing. It recalls the Neo-Mohist Canon (A75) where disputation is defined as “contending over opposites”, adding “to win in a disputation is to fit the case (dàng 當). The explanations of the canon invoked the principle of non-contradiction—a proper disputation will contend over something that “cannot both fit”—at least one must fail to fit. Elsewhere in the Canon, the principle of excluded middle is invoked where it is stated that to talk about a disputation that without a winner is to fail to fit—in other words, it can’t be that neither wins (B34). The upshot is that, given Neo-Mohist logic, a proper disputation will involve mutually exclusive and jointly exhaustive alternatives—exactly one alternative will fit and thus win, and the other will fail to fit and thus not win. The arguments in the Zhuangzi passage (the way it goes through all of the logical alternatives given non-contradiction and excluded middle) make a lot of sense when we can assume this background. (See also: “Loy – Additional Notes on Mohist Logic (2015).pdf” in IVLE.)

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Some Questions on the Mozi

Tanya asks:

Regarding the [the slide titled] Chinese argument [in “06 Mozi (2)”], I’m not sure I see the difference between (2) and (4) – (1) We know Yao to be a sage because he did the right things and (3) Yao was a sage because he did the right things. I can’t see how ‘we know’ makes it a different statement (for 1&3 or for 2&4).

At the most general level, “P” is not the same as “We know that P”—while the latter will entail the former (you can’t know something unless it is so), the former does not entail the latter (even if it is so, we might not know it). Now let’s consider the statements you mentioned. Looking back at the slides, I see that my examples could have been better phrased:

(1) We know Yao to be a sage because (we know) he did the right things

(2) We know that these are the right thing to do because (we know) they were what Yao did

(3) Yao was a sage because he did the right things (i.e., being someone who did the right thing makes Yao a sage)

(4) These are the right things to do because Yao did them (i.e., being a sage makes the things he does the right things)

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Some Questions on the Analects

Marcus asks

Does virtue always equal to benevolence?

You mean the Chinese term rén 仁 in the Analects? In many passages, it refers to a specific virtue that can be distinguished from other virtues (e.g., 14.28), often translated “benevolence”. In a few passages, it refers more to the sum of all the virtues, or just “Virtue” or “Goodness” (and so translated in some editions) (e.g., 14.4). But note that in the above, “virtue” is in English, meaning roughly ethically desirable attributes, and “Virtue” would be roughly sum of all the ethically desirable attributes. There is a term  德 in the Analects that is translated “(moral) virtue” by Lau. For this, see the glossary entry in Readings, 389.

Is straightness/uprightness linked in any way to benevolence or morality? E.g. a ren/yi person?

It’s a more general term compared with terms like rén 仁 and  義, which can be counted as specialized ethical terminology. It is literally “straight”, though the sort of straight that is normally contrasted with being crooked (zhí 直 vs.  曲; see 2.19) rather than the sort of straight that is contrasted with being slanted (zhèng 正 vs. xié 斜). Can be used metaphorically to talk about someone being (morally/ethically) upright, proper, (perhaps) principled.

Does the word ‘rite’ refer both to the rites (practises) and ritual propriety?

The same Chinese term  禮 is used to refer to both. Context will determine (usually not that difficult to tell though). On the flip side, “rites”, “ritual”, “ritual propriety” are all meant to translate the same underlying Chinese character.

In 6.29: The Master said, ‘Supreme indeed is the Mean as a moral virtue. It has been rare among the common people for quite a long time.’ What does ‘Mean’ refer to?

It’s rather unfortunate that despite the nature of the claim in 6.29, that’s the only place in the Analects where zhōngyōng 中庸 is mentioned in the text. (It also doesn’t appear in the Mencius.) Later Confucians will make a big fuss about the term and craft a whole treatise (and traditional of thinking) based on it, but it would be speculative to equate that stuff with whatever is going on in 6.29 if the idea can really be dated back to Confucius himself. The other possibility is that the passage itself is late, inserted into the corpus by the later members of the tradition who were big about zhōngyōng.

The term zhōng meaning “middle, balance, equilibrium”. The term yōng is harder. It can mean “mediocre”. But here, it quite likely means something like “use, application”. But possibly also “constant” (think of something that can be used or applied all the time). So if we abstract 6.29 from the later discussion, a not overly thick reading will take the Master to be highlighting the high value of not going to extremes but settling for a mean that balances out or harmonizes opposing considerations, even equating it with Virtue (). (Put another way, Virtue consists in a mean between both excess and deficiency; consider 11.16) Ideas in this ballpark are suggested by passages such as 1.12, 6.18, 13.21, 17.8. In 20.1, Sage Yao instructs his successor Shu to “hold to the middle (zhōng)”.