The Need of Philosophical Taoism For The Modern World

If philosophical Taoism has been largely ignored, it is perhaps because Lao Tzu, the founder of Taoism, was not as fond of acquiring disciples as Confucius. Out of all three major religions in Chinese culture, only Confucianism and perhaps a modest degree of Buddhism have remained supreme down to this day. The reason partly, of course, lies in Lao Tzu not having any disciple, but what has made Confucianism supreme lies in the peculiar act of the burning of the books by the Qin Emperor. The outcome of the burning of the books was not quite what the Qin Emperor envisaged to be, rather than eliminated the category of the literati, it had risked inspiring the desire of revenge in them, an unfair neglect of philosophical Taoism, and a misguided enthusiasm for Confucianism. Along with the burning of the books, in the latter part of the twentieth century under the Maoist regime, there was the Cultural Revolution which sough to destroy the three religions altogether. Not until recently the Chinese have started to moderately scrutinise the Cultural Revolution and felt the need to revive Confucianism.

But are we to only draw wisdoms from the Analects but not from the Tao Te Ching and other Buddhist Scriptures? Does only Confucianism deserve our immediate attention? Is Confucianism the only product of an at least three thousand years of civilisation that is worthy of our honour? The merits of Confucianism may have perhaps been overlooked. Confucianism seems only to painfully inflict pre-modern ethical codes upon us, while presuming morality has an objective criterion, it enforces our mind to submit to tyranny rather than autonomy and therefore is falsely raised to a status of intellectual superiority. Philosophical Taoism, on the contrary, may find its place in the liberal school of thought. Rather than acknowledges itself as a gospel of how we should live, it wanders at the intervals between tyranny and autonomy, doing and non-doing, talks and silence.

In a world where it is commercially driven, most of the minutes of our days are devoted to production rather than consumption. Everything that counts as economically unproductive is severely condemned. Futile conversations become more praiseworthy than agreeable silence. Driven by financial necessity, men have become mad, arrogant, and dogmatic. Perhaps it is time to turn to philosophical Taoism and see what it can offer for our modern life.

All too often we are inclined to think industrialisation, by virtue of scientific technique, strives to reduce human labour. The reality, however, is always disappointing. New skills derived from scientific technique have always been monopolised by the minority. Rather than benefit the majority, our financial destiny are in the hands of the few to promote the ills of capitalism and ensure their status is at the very top of social hierarchy, filling our lives with worries and anxieties. As soon as money has become the prime mover of everything, it is not uncommon to run into workaholics on the streets exchanging business information with laptops and setting up meetings with clients on mobile phones even in the most unworkable period of the day. Almost all electronic devices suddenly seem to be designed to bring the office back home rather than for the sake of leisure.

It didn’t take long for such habit of mind to penetrate to the core of our life. Just when we decide to take off our shoes and lie in the grass to let the grass caress our feet, the herd condemn us for being idle. Just when we wish to devote some time to reading poetry, they carefully advise us to spend time reading self-help books about how we can be as successful as Bill Gates and Steve Jobs or techniques that are required to invest in stock markets. Just when we harbour a confused wish to do what we like and become what we want to be, the peers remind us of the scarcity of great minds and tell us, with an elderly and experienced tone, that we are better off pursuing a life in making profits. Let alone our dreams. But does happiness necessarily have to be confined to pecuniary terms? If Lao Tzu were still alive today, what would he suggest to remedy our anxieties?

In the Tao Te Ching, Lao Tzu shows us there exists a danger if we devote too much of our time to productivity:

“Banish wisdom, discard knowledge,
And the people will be benefited a hundredfold.
Banish human kindness, discard morality,
And the people will become dutiful and compassionate.
Banish skill, discard profit,
And thieves and robbers will disappear.
If when these three things are done they find life too plain and unadorned,
Then let them have accessories;
Give them Simplicity to look at, the Uncarved Block to hold,
Give them selflessness and fewness of desires.”

Lao Tzu believes that we were all born into a certain harmony that we should all naturally abide by the Way of Tao. To instil in us artificial desires is to violate the fundamental law of nature, to run counter to what Tao confers. If we need to banish skill and discard profit, it is because these things will plant the seeds for human greed and jealousy. Lao Tzu urges us to be humble, rather than comply to the modern gospel of work at full force, we should realise what we naturally need, warding off unnecessary dangers inspired by the dark side of human nature. It is not worthwhile to devote all our time to pursue what is profitable because men are emotionally vulnerable and liable to grow jealous and feel unease of those whom we take to be our equals who have superior achievements. We ought to, Lao Tzu suggests, strike a balance between self-preservation and our love of money.

Aside from the possible dangers triggered by the dark side of human nature, Lao Tzu also intends to show us how economically unproductive behaviours can be beneficial:

“We put thirty spokes together and call it a wheel; But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the wheel depends.
We turn clay to make a vessel; But it is on the space where there is nothing that the usefulness of the vessel depends.
We pierce doors and windows to make a house; And it is on these spaces where there is nothing that the usefulness of the house depends.
Therefore, just as we take advantage of what is, we should recognise the usefulness of what is not.”

Lao Tzu suggests something that is contrary to what the majority are committed. Rather than affirming the value of material objects with our imperfect senses, he invites us to consider the value of being vacuous, the usefulness of the space that we normally neglect because it is precisely the space that allows us to move objects around.

But what does that say about our modern society? There exists a tendency in the modern educational system to think the arts and humanities are worthless while business and finance are the gospels of promoting economic development. Universities, rather than being places for the liberation of mind, they have become more like training schools. Subjects are becoming more vocational rather than emphasizing the cultural elements. However useless the arts and humanities may seem, Lao Tzu compels us to look at what is not and revise certain notions of what we commonly suppose as useless, hence attach it to a more “just” and “correct” value. Take, for instance, philosophy. Knowing certain philosophical theories may not compensate for the missing garments in our wardrobe nor allow us to get a brand new Mercedes, but it enforces us to submit our thinking to the rigours of rational examination, instead our common tendency on intuition, emotion, and custom. It helps us to break free from the bondage of herd instinct and broaden our minds so we can comprehend the world differently. British philosopher Bertrand Russell is also in favour of the Taoist thought,

“I have enjoyed peaches and apricots more since I have known that they were first cultivated in China in the early days of Han Dynasty; that Chinese hostages held by the great King Kaniska introduced them to India, whence they spread to Persia, reaching the Roman Empire in the first century of our era; that the word "apricot" is derived from the same Latin source as the word "precocious", because the apricot ripens early; and that the A at the beginning was added by mistake, owing to a false etymology. All this makes the fruit taste much sweeter.”

What seems so useless on the surface may not be so after all.

If Lao Tzu is able to offer us the reflective delight of what is useless, why, then, can’t we say the same for unproductive acts such as sunbathing or enjoying the beautiful scenery of starry night or even doing nothing? Lao Tzu’s role lies in opening our eyes, in sensitising our awareness of what is around us, and in inculcating in us an appreciation of objects with previously neglected qualities. These unproductive acts produce in us a contemplative habit of mind. There is in this world too much readiness and too little reflections. The pleasure in thought not only allows us to enlarge our sympathy and diminish human folly, it also comforts us with a peace of mind among worries and misfortunes. It helps us to ward off taboos, bias, and prejudices which makes way for us to see ourselves in a proper perspective. Moreover, it provides us the appropriate aesthetic mindset to admire beauty. We are unable to derive the appropriate pleasure from our leisure if we attend ourselves to haste. In the absence of serenity, the roses will lose their hue, the fruit its flavour, the star its splendour, and the perfume its aroma. Fifteen minutes of concentration at least are needed to appreciate a sculpture, but even the most beautiful sculpture rarely detains anyone for even thirty seconds.

In the culturally extroverting United States, there hover various virtues associated with being talkative: good communication skills, optimistic, friendly, and outgoing. For those who may appear rather introverted, they are generally categorised as silent, lonely, and sometimes even melancholic. And it is often the case this society condemns the latter rather than the former. If introverts are undesirable, it is because the assumption is premised on the fact they lack good communication skills. When they are viewed politically, one may suggest they often opt more for individualism rather than collectivism. Introverts seem to aim at violating the fundamental law of human nature, rather than recognise the value of friendship, they are liable to grow contemptuous of what most anthropologists suggest. But why are they so quiet? Why can't they enjoy companionship?

Perhaps the Tao Te Ching has something to offer:

“The Way that can be told of is not an Unvarying Way;”

“Those who know do not speak;
Those who speak do not know.
Block the passages,
Shut the doors,
Let all sharpness be blunted,
All tangles untied,
All glare tempered.
All dust smoothed.
This is called the mysterious levelling.
He who has achieved it cannot either be drawn into friendship or repelled,
Cannot be benefited, cannot be harmed,
Cannot either be raised or humbled,
And for that very reason is highest of all creatures under heaven.”

Lao Tzu suggests Tao cannot be grasped by the ordinary senses nor describe in words. Rather than go through the process of learning, Tao is what we naturally obtain and desire. Silence, from a Taoist perspective, is not a mere excuse for inarticulacy. Instead of thinking language as something to transmit ideas, Lao Tzu condemns it as an artificial invention obstructing the Tao, something invented to make up for the lack of audible evidence, rendering us too reliant on language to attain truths. Silence does not even prevent or perhaps even enhances our understanding of Tao.

What, then, is wrong with language? Is it a strategy that Lao Tzu tries to cover up his conversational poverty? Our society presupposes good communication is all talk. It is virtuous to be outspoken and talk is often the catalyst to mark the start of an intimate relationship. Whenever we are feeling down or depressed, friends and even psychologists urge us to talk it out. When deciding on a matter of utter importance, our peers often like to engage us in day- long discussion or brainstorming that usually no solution can be offered except undue fatigue. Nevertheless, it is important for matters to be decided by discussion and debate. But we should never forget the stories of Socrates offered in Plato’s dialogues. While often inducing strangers to scrutinise commonly accepted notions near the gymnastics, he also often engages himself in silent meditation alone.

If Socrates finds value in silence, it is because “public opinion”, as Chamfort put it, “is the worst of all opinions.” The herd tend to rely their judgement on emotion rather than reason. It is foolish to decide on matters that are of nationally or even internationally importance just by a shrug of the shoulders. With every minute of our life is directed towards the virtue of hard work, we scarcely have time for slow thought out of which wisdom is distilled. Only through the aid of human thought, we may conduct human affairs more sanely. Lao Tzu’s wisdom echoes with the western saying, “The wise listen, the fool chatter.”

It is not hard to understand why people who have achieved the status of silence are “neither drawn to friendship or repelled.” In certain academic spheres, particularly in philosophy and social science, laymen seem to develop distaste for clarity and respect for unfathomable texts. No one ever wishes to wonder what "post-modernism" or "post-colonial constructivism" means. No one wishes to think that Hegel's "The Phenomenology of Spirit" is composed of intolerable nonsense. Rather than condemn it as contorted tangles of language, a sensitive reader may start to worry at length about his intelligence. The fact that a text which is impassable to lay reader may actually be regarded as profound and wise. Yet a text that articulates with immense clarity and fluidity that can be easily understood by an untrained mind may be condemned as invalid because it is more susceptible to criticism.

Lao Tzu’s thought follows a similar trajectory. There exists a peculiar yet paradoxical attraction from the majority for the silent. People who are prone to silence, like those unfathomable texts, defy our ease of understanding. On the face of it, they appear mysterious and offer well-grounded reason for our curiosity. If friendship aims at communication and understanding, however a pause of silence may on the surface suggest the contrary, it compels us to talk. Silence arouses our curiosity and urges us to pursue the matter further. In result, we may get people to talk by not talking, so we can easily go with the flow of conversation, rendering us master talkers.

Isn’t it true of what Lao Tzu says about friendship? We may provoke a sense of silence to get our friend to talk, while satisfying a modest degree of his curiosity, at the same time we may use it intelligently to once again defy his ease of understanding. Hence we are “neither drawn to friendship or repelled.” It also suggests this is an agreeable form of relationship because our curiosity for one another never fades away. It is precisely we entertain between the intervals of knowing and not knowing, closeness and distance, which friendship bears fruit. Masters of silence are therefore at heart talkative. Lao Tzu has successfully redefined what good communication is and delivered a lecture on the art of conversation.

While the virtue of hard work is praised, there is hardly any leisure and our leisure has become as strenuous as work. Our lives are dusty and harsh and filled with trivial self-assertions. Most minutes of our days are given to futile bustle. But the wisdom of Lao Tzu allows us to once again appreciate what is commonly ignored, promote pleasure in thought, and admire the beauty around us. On the other hand, it allows us to revise the notion of silence and, through reflection upon it, we may come to value silent immobility which is essential for meditation and contemplate the nature of human relationships by reconsidering what good communication is all about. Before philosophical Taoism is given its due place, the modern world is unlikely to be sane.

W

P.S. This is one of my homework assignments. Some parts of the essay may resemble what I wrote in previous blog entries.