Zhuangzi (Chuang-tzu 莊子 “Master Zhuang” late4th century BC) is the pivotal figure in Classical PhilosophicalDaoism. TheZhuangzi is a compilation of his andothers’ writings at the pinnacle of the philosophically subtleClassical period in China (5th–3rd century BC). The period wasmarked by humanist and naturalist reflections on normativity shaped bythe metaphor of adào (道)—a social or anaturalpath. Traditional orthodoxy understood Zhuangzi as ananti-rational, credulous follower of a mystical Laozi. Thattraditional view dominated mainstream readings of the text. Recentarchaeological discoveries have largely laid that ancient orthodoxy torest.
Six centuries later, elements of Zhuangzi’s naturalism, alongwith themes found in the text attributed to Laozi helped shape ChanBuddhism (Japanese Zen)—a distinctively Chinese, naturalistblend of Daoism and Buddhism with its emphasis on focused engagementin our everyday ways of life.
This wide range of views of Zhuangzi stem from the style of the text.Zhuangzi’s prose style is its own distinctive literary treasure.The central feature is the parable, typified as a discussion betweenimaginary or real interlocutors. Typically short, pithy, and amusing,his tales are both accessible and philosophically seductive—theyboth entertain and make you think. A respite from the dry moralizingof Confucians, the text was always a favorite of the Chineseintellectual, literati class. TheZhuangzi also attractsmodern Western readers with its thoroughgoing naturalism,philosophical subtlety, and sophisticated humor, all set in astrikingly different conceptual scheme and its distant, exoticcontext.
Philosophically, Zhuangzi strikes us as more the Hume of his traditionthan a system builder like Plato, Aristotle, or Kant. He drewskeptical and relativist implications from his naturalist approach tonormative guidance. His treatment of naturaldàosfocused on the norms governing correct use of language. His ethicalrelativism grew out of his indexical understanding of the norms ofword use.
This indexical linguistic approach focused on the key evaluative termsused in choosing among natural paths of behavior(dàos), 是非shì-fēithis-not that. These normative terms also guide language use,the choices of words, and the objects words pick out as topics.Zhuangzi’s foils were credulous and dogmatic Confucianhumanists, particularly the innate intuitionist absolutism of a typefamiliar from theMencius. He also took his linguisticinsights to undermine Mozi’s pragmatic utilitarian alternativeto Confucianism. He engaged seriously with later Mohist, realist,linguistic theories, both acknowledging their challenge to primitivequietism (the anti-language view familiar inThe Laozi) andyet remaining skeptical of the realist conclusion. His most frequentco-discussant in the text was Hui Shi, a rival linguisticrelativist.
The following topics highlight some central interpretivecontroversies. The bulk of the article proposes a philosophicalinterpretation that both fits theZhuangzi into the classicalphilosophical dialogue and explains his modern relevance.
Zhuangzi flourished through the latter half of the fourth century BC,roughly contemporary with Mencius and with the “linguisticturn” in the classical period that included the later Mohistsand the figures historians later labeled as the School of Names(名家ming-jia). Zhuangzi demonstrates mastery ofthis Classical Chinese terminology of pragmatics and semantics andmakes his own theoretical contributions to ancient Chinese theory oflanguage. The traditionally recognized figures in this school includedGongsun Longzi along with Hui Shi—Zhuangzi’s close friend,perhaps mentor, his interlocutor, and occasionally his foil. Zhuangziis followed in this mature phase of Classical linguistic thought bysome chapters in the later Confucian text,The Xunzi. ThoughThe Xunzi elsewhere targets Zhuangzi for criticism, hissections incorporating and developing this linguistic turn embellishthe linguistic theory shared between the later Mohists andZhuangzi.
Most of what we infer about Zhuangzi’s life, we draw fromevidence within theZhuangzi, although the Han biographersdid speculate about his place of origin (the state of Meng), hispersonal name (Zhou), and the official posts he held (minor posts inQiyuan, his home state) and period he lived (during the reign ofPrince Wei over Chu—which ended about 327 BC). Scholars havefound it hard to confirm any details of his life from outside thistext and from his being discussed by later thinkers. The text itselfcontains scattered stories about Zhuangzi, but given its frequent useof fantasy, even these we must season with the salt of textualskepticism. We attribute a large chunk of the extant text of theZhuangzi to “students of Zhuangzi” but we havelittle hint of who his students were or if he even had students in anyformal sense.
Guo Xiang (d. 312 CE), a scholar working around 600 years later afterthe fall of the Han, edited and reduced what he saw as a haphazardlyaccumulated cluster of apocryphal and possibly authentic texts. Heconcluded that many were added after the time Zhuangzi lived. Guoreports compressing that prior collection of writings from fifty-twochapters to thirty-three. This is the extant text on which ourknowledge is based. Guo divided the chapters he had chosen into threesections: the “Inner Chapters” (1–7), the“Outer Chapters” (8–22) and the “MiscellaneousChapters” (23–33). He attributed only the first section tothe period dating from Zhuangzi’s lifetime—hence possiblyoriginating from Zhuangzi’s teachings. The second grouping mayhave included writings of a “School of Zhuangzi”. Modernscholarship assigns various sources of other influences found in boththe second “outer” and final “miscellaneous”chapters. A.C. Graham, drawing on work of the Chinese theorist, KuanFeng (Graham 1979), and followed with some variation by Liu Xiaogan(Liu 1994) and Harold Roth (Roth 1991, 2003), divides these influencesinto roughly four variously named groups:
However widely assumed, Zhuangzi’s direct responsibility for anyof the “inner” chapters remains a hypothesis, subject toskeptical doubts (Klein 2010). Guo’s original assessment thatZhuangzi did not author any of the remaining sections remainsconventional scholarly wisdom. When we attribute something toZhuangzi, we are attributing itto the text and, whererelevant, to the “Inner Chapters”, particularly Ch. 2.
Combining the different elements into a single volume reflects afamiliar Classical pattern of embellishing the teachings of azi (master), adapting the additions to the namesake’swriting style and expanding on his themes and insights in distinctiveways. The four schools contributing to the extant text shared anemphasis on natural—as opposed tosocial-cultural—dàos. Yangism or egoism rejectedsocial or moraldàos on the apparent assumption thatnatural guidingdàos recommend self-preservingbehavior. Its paradigm is the anti-social hermit. Yangists treatmotivation by self-interest as normatively prior to conventionaldàos. They preserved their natural purity from socialcorruption by rejecting society’s conventional mores.
Primitivism similarly rejected social and conventionaldàos (mores), but has its own conception of natural,pre-social, typically intuitive, ways of life that supports rustic,agricultural, small village existence. It inspires populist andanarchist political tendencies. Syncretism does not reject socialdàosper se but does reject any particulardào as biased and narrow in contrast to a more,“rounded”, idealized, or comprehensivedào. This is often expressed in an ideal observer form(the sage, perfect human, or nature:sky (天tian)dào). These views tend toward epistemicsupernaturalism—claims to cognitive access to sometranscendently correctdào not available to ordinarypeople. Both syncretism and primitivism also tend to deny that theirtranscendentdàos can be explained in languageform.
The discussions in the “Inner Chapters”, particularly inthe second chapter, by contrast, treat both language andsocial-conventionaldàos as naturaldàos of natural creatures. This undermines Primitivistand Yangist contrast of natural vs. conventional, nurtureddàos. Humans are naturally social animals and enactnatural causal processes when they walk or talk—or write andexchange money for vegetables. Human social practices leave marks innature, (like a trail or a text) which become physically accessible tolaterwalkers as history (stored in memory, legend, writings,or footprints etc.). These tracks or traces guide others by supplyingthem with opportunities to use their know-how.
The pivotal second chapter draws relativist and skeptical conclusionsfrom its normative naturalism. It rejects the traditionalism ofConfucianism and the implicit Gaia-hypothesis in Mozi’s attemptto recruittiān (天 sky:nature) as an authorityrecommending utilitarian socialdaos. Nature provides us withmany ways to behave, but does not judge or care which choices we makeamong those naturally possible.Shì-fēi(是非 this (way)/not-that) judgments are made by livingcreatures in nature, not bytiān itself. We can findguiding structures,dàos,in naturebut not a favored or dictateddàoofnature.
Like the “Miscellaneous Chapters”, the “InnerChapters” Zhuangists accept that socialdàos arecontinuous with natural ones, but they do not endorse any imagined oralleged, comprehensive judgments from the cosmos, from all-naturalpoints of view. The cosmic judgment from nowhere is a non-judgment.Zhuangists are not committed to Laozi’s exclusive distinction ofnatural (tiān) vs. social (人ren“human”) dàos. They are skeptical of claims to havespecial access to context-free, guiding know-how by alleged orself-styled “sages”, “ideal observers”, orperfect exemplars of epistemic virtues. Ziporyn (2012) interpretivelytreats allusions to transcendently perfect guidance or know-how as“ironic”. Moeller (2022), Moeller and D’Ambrosio(2017), D’Ambrosio (2020a) see poking fun at such pretense asthe point of Zhuangzi’s formulating these passages. Zhuangistsboth accept language and accept our natural capacity and inclinationto toy with it, alter it, and mould it to our use in varioussituations of practical choice.
Zhuangzi’s exemplars are butchers, musicians, cicada catchers,wheelmakers—exemplars of mundane and focused behavior guidance.Each is an exemplar of one of the many ways of life(dàos). They execute their particular specialties in ahighly cultivated, precise, and smooth manner with ease and a sense offlow. The imagined eclectic synthesis of all the numerous ways of lifeinto some total-comprehensivedào is no more thande facto restatement of their co-existence in a singlenatural world as optional ways of life. The cosmos makes no judgmentthat they should exist—though it combines them into a cosmicdào that is the history of everything. That the cosmoshas this outcome does not mean it makes a human-like choice whichhumans could or should execute. We are ill advised to strive for suchskill ateverything.
The eclectics were the last community working with the text, adding toit and carrying it into later periods. The Laozi had become enmeshedwith a ruler cult worship of The Yellow Emperor. Laozi became the farmore influential figure during the Confucian orthodoxy of the Han(206–220 BC).
The wide range of views of Zhuangzi stem from the style of the textand the ways it has figured in China’s intellectual history aswell as the ways it was caught up in the interaction between China andthe modern, scientific West.
Zhuangzi’s style is the philosophical parable, typically a briefdiscussion or exchange between two points of view. There is slightplurality of humans among the discussants joined by natural andimaginary creatures. Its fictional characters are usually cleverlynamed; some are Confucian icons (Confucius or his alleged teacher, LaoDan). Some discussants are animals (real and fictional fish, birds,snakes), a talking skull, the wind, musicians, debaters, tigers,trainers, butchers, butterflies, burglars, and the myriad other“pipes of nature”. Expressive brevity and subtlety ofdetail enhance the impact of the often complex and elusive point ofthe parables—they seldom explicitly formulate the moral or pointexplicitly. Most commonly, the author(s) end discussions in a doubtingtone, a double rhetorical question, or some pithy enigmatic partingshot. They may make their point by having the two parties walking awayshaking their heads, agreeing only to disagree; both appreciating thatthey barely understand one another, and yet feeling that something hasbeen learned from the exchange.
Translation into Western languages invites biases that are hard toavoid. The main effect is loss of the conceptual cohesion of theoriginal, but the parables still engage our Western philosophicalcuriosity. We get the exhilaration of immersion in an independentphilosophical tradition of comparable antiquity and richness. Readersin and out of China invariably suspect that theZhuangzi’s appealing style is infused withphilosophical genius, even as they disagree about its philosophicalupshot. Indeed, much of theZhuangzi’s philosophicalappeal may stem from its deliberate open-ended texture, theinterpretive malleability of its dialogues which invites, even perhapsrequires, us to join the author(s) in their philosophicalreflection.
This appeal stems only partly from the quality and sophistication ofhis episodes, each illuminating a patch of philosophical territoryending with a question for further pondering—like Nietzsche orthe Later Wittgenstein. Each exchange presents or illustrates shardsof insight with open-textured conclusions—all laced withZhuangzi’s obvious joy in exploring deep divergence in point ofview—particularly on linguistic matters. Each is a natural, butdifficult to access, alternative way of life. The frequent enigmaticconclusions “the answer isX” leaves interpretersarguing centuries later, Fermat-like, howX can be ananswer—or whatX is (e.g., “free and easywandering”, “walking two paths”, “gobletwords”, “clarity”, and so forth). Each seems to fiteasily into a range of puzzles familiar to thinkers in both Chineseand Western traditions. One suspects that we find the correctinterpretation by finding our way, like Wittgenstein’s fly, outof some philosophical bottle. Solving the philosophical conundrumgives one the correct interpretation of Zhuangzi.
The religious view of Zhuangzi starts a century after Zhuangzi lived(4th century BC). (SeeReligious Daoism.) Philosophical schools were closed, books burned and thought repressedduring the superstitious Qin dynasty (221–206 BC) which followedthe classical period. This initiated China’s philosophical“Dark Age”. The more orthodox Confucian Han Dynasty (206BC to 220) followed. Over two decades (109–91 BC) the Hanemperor’s hereditary Grand Historians, Sima Tan and Sima Qian (afather and son team), wrote an official history from the mythicalYellow Emperor (c. 3rd Millennium BC) to the Han. The Simas’intellectual history fabricated four “schools” (家jiā families) to cluster groups of Classical thinkerswho focused on certain concepts. The concepts weredào(paths),fǎ (法 performance:standards [a.k.a.“Legalist”]),míng (名 names) andYin-Yang. Counting the various schools of Confucianism and Mohism astwo, this classification reduced the “hundred schools” ofthe period to six.
As the name suggests, the “schools” (家jiā family, home) began as something more like“in-house”zi (master)-apprentice arrangementswhere thejiào (教 teachings) were crafts,skills, and arts. Learning was mastering a method to be exercisedwell in a context. A central skill for Confucius, the firstzi (master), was reading, writing, and speaking effectivelyin social-political roles. Confucius’s students launched thepractice of teaching and learning from the “master’sbook”. Mohist schools followed, with students constructingseveral versions of Master-Mo’s teachings and the practice ofreading, copying, editing, and even updating a master’s textbecame the mechanism for the Classical evolution of thought—thespread and competition ofteachings(jiào).
Drawing on this insight, Graham (1989) demurred from the traditionalLaozi-as-master, Zhuangzi-as-student reading. Writing that“[Zhuangzi] never knew he was a [Daoist]”, Graham averredthat “Inner Chapters” Zhuangzi had neither met Laozi norknew of theDaode Jing text. He speculated that thetraditional affiliation stems from the “Outer Chapters”.There, Zhuangzi’s students created clever dialogues between amythical Lao Dan (a.k.a. Laozi), teacher of Confucius. As teacher, hewho could “speak down” to Confucius. The overlap of tropesand thematics suggests some communication between those students ofZhuangzi and the anonymous compilers of the still evolvingClassicof Dào and Dé (德“virtuosity”).
A cult of Huang-Lao, worshipping the Yellow Emperor and Laozi as jointdivinities of the rulingfǎjiā(“Legalist”) cult, had grown up to dominate the Qinempire. The father and son Han historians were also students ofHuang-Lao masters. At the fall of the Han the narrative of Zhuangzi asa follower/elaborator of a semi-divine Laozi was well entrenched, butthe Zhuangzi was neglected by those enamored by thesuperstitions of Imperial Confucianism. TheHuainanzi (Liu An179–122 BC) was the chief evidence of continuing interest inZhuangzi’s philosophy.
The post-Han resurgence, known as Neo-Daoism, began with the editingof the received edition of, first, theLaozi (Wang Bi226–249) tying his text closely to the popular divination textwith Confucian commentaries, theYi Jing orBook ofChanges. A generation later, a scholar of the same school of“Dark Learning”, Guo Xiang (d. 312 CE) produced thereceived version (see above) ofthe Zhuangzi (describedabove)—perhaps with heavy borrowing from one of the “SevenSages of the Bamboo Grove”, Xiang Xiu (3rd C.).
Although the Xiang-Guo Zhuangzi recognized that Zhuangzi’srelativist realism differed from Laozi’s anti-languagenaturalism, the disagreement was taken to be confined to degrees ofemphasis within Daoism—now conceived as a single school ofthought. The metaphysical formulations made the difference seem like achicken vs. egg issue, “which came first, being ornon-being?”
Neo-Daoist discussion practices around this metaphysical issue wereinfluential in bringing Buddhist and Chinese thought into interactionwith the Chinese conceptual scheme, and Daoism became enmeshed withBuddhism in the popular view (especially Chinese Chan—JapaneseZen—Buddhism). Thebeing-non-being format easilycoalesced with Buddhist worries about the reality of Nirvana vs.Samsara, self vs. Buddha-nature. A Daoist institutional“religion”, borrowing models of monasteries, monks, andnuns from Buddhism, influenced the discourse about Daoism throughoutthe period of Buddhist domination of the Chinese intellectual world(achieved gradually during the Six Dynasties period 220–589 andextending through the Tang 618–907). Neo-Confucians from themedieval period on treated Buddhism and Daoism as essentially similarreligions.
Modern philosophical theory concerning the Zhuangzi grows from tworecent discoveries.
The following section discusses their twin impact on our view ofZhuangzi.
Developments at the end of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuryin China led Chinese intellectuals to adopt the European concept ofphilosophy (哲學) with its implicit distinction fromreligion. This distinction was seen as pivoting on logic—thetheory of proof or argument. They started to segregate their ownwritings which seemed most like argument, inference, and logic, fromthose sustained solely by credulity and tradition. They began to sortout the philosophical aspects of their traditional thought from itsmore religious and superstitious elements. Sun Yirang’s(1848–1908) 1897 reconstruction of the Mohist Canon (Sun 1965)provided convincing evidence that rigorously analytic discourse aboutlinguistics had emerged from the context of normative social-politicaltheory disputes in Classical China. This example encouraged nineteenthcentury intellectuals like Yan Fu (1854–1921) and Liang Qichao(1873–1929) to see Classical thought as philosophical. Theystarted to emphasize the ancient schools which, along with the Mohistanalytic linguists, otherwise recognized the norms of Westernphilosophy. Many others, notably Hu Shih (1891–1962) and JinYuelin (1895–1984) continued this tradition of reconceiving andre-centering Chinese thought away from the Confucian scholasticismthat had dominated since the Han.
This early twentieth century logic-inspired reformation eventuallyinfluenced the interpretation of especially theZhuangzi andtheXunzi. In the west, this was largely inspired by AngusGraham who had observed that both ancient texts demonstrated a masteryof the technical vocabulary of Mohist linguistic theory.
Western philosophical appreciation of theZhuangzi stems fromGraham’s 1969 “[Zhuangzi]’s Essay on Seeing Thingsas Equal” (Graham 1969, predating his work on Mohism). Wrylyreplying to speculation that Shen Dao, not Zhuangzi, had authored thebeloved chapter, Graham allowed that whoever wrote thatphilosophically rich text is the person we should think of asZhuangzi. Graham proposed looking at the text’s seeminglyconflicting thoughts as analogous to the “inner dialogue”of a reflective thinker who formulates a view, considers it, thenrejects it. After his monumental work reconstructing and interpretingtheLater Mohists, Graham began to emphasize how muchthe Zhuangzi andtheXunzi demonstrated engagement with Mohist theory of language. Hestressed their apparent mastery of the technical language of Mohisttheory and of the advanced issues they were debating.
Graham’s textual arguments were indirectly supported byarchaeological discoveries of differentLaozi texts. Thediscoveries in the early 1970s and 1990s together implied a later datefor the emergence of theLaozi text. The exact timelineremains unclear, but gives us no reason to doubt Graham’ssuggestion that Zhuangzi did not know of the text.
When we abandon the traditional identification of Zhuangzi as discipleof Laozi, it opens the door for speculation about his relation to therelativist, linguistic theorist, Hui Shi, traditionally treated asbelonging to the School of Names. Christoph Harbesmeier speculated hemay have been either Zhuangzi’s teacher, mentor, or fellowstudent. If he was a teacher, he came to accept his student as anequal or even as superior in the art of linguistic normativity. TheZhuangzi portrays him as playing a role in the development ofZhuangzi’s philosophical skill. He is repeatedly portrayed as anintimate interlocutor and eventually as a foil for sharpeningZhuangzi’s philosophical analysis. Among those texts thatconcentrate onmíng (名 names), Hui Shi’sten theses mark his as a relativist response to Mohist realism aboutthe relation of names and “stuff”—focusingparticularly on comparative physical terms like “large”and “tall”.
We can read Zhuangzi’s relativism accordingly, as analternative, more reflectively subtle,indexical relativism(what a term refers to depends on theindexed location of thespeaker in space and time) aboutright and wrong(shì-fēi 是非 this-not that)judgments regarding choices andwalkings(xíng 行 walking:behavior) of paths(dàos). Language was adào of usingnames (words) as shared guideposts. This can explain bothZhuangzi’s more sophisticated relativism in theory of languageand his recognition of valid Mohist (realist) refutations of HuiShi’s version ofname (míng 名names) relativism. Between the traditional “Daoist” andthe analytic philosophical interpretation lies a provocative range ofrecent interpretive views. There are even views that emphasize“religiosity” around the philosophical interpretiveelements: naturalism, oneness, and liberation (Shang 2006).Comparative treatments of this range are themes in several of thearticles in the “Further Readings” section of thebibliography below. This article develops and expands on Graham’sphilosophical interpretation and emphasizes the relation to Hui Shiand the Later Mohists rather than to theLaozi.
Confuciandàos were broadly humanist. The earliestversion (Confucius 551–479 BC) traced normativity to earlierhuman invention. Metaphorical trails (dàos) areenshrined in social practices emerging from past humanxíng (行 walking: behaviors). Language was anexample of such an emergent social practice which intertwined withconventional practices (rituals) to yield the “sage-king”inspired way of life—人rén (human)道dào (path). Named status-roles and ritualizedlearned practices for the role players was the fabric of hisdào. A later version (Mencius 372–239 BC)focused on naturalhuman psychology asréndào. The correct path is that to which ournatural moral psychology inclines us. Humans have axīn(心 heart-mind) that is naturallyshan (善good-at) choosing and interpretingdàos.
Mencius was reacting to Mohism. Mozi (470–391 BC) initiated ashift in focus to more natural and objective, less culturally relativeWays of grounding normative language, statuses, and socialpractices—utility. He argued thattiān(nature:sky) “favored” courses that lead to general humanwell-being. So humans should use that natural norm, thebiàn (辯 distinction) betweenlì-hài (利害 benefit-harm), inconstructing our socialdào, including the norms oflanguage.
Mozi’s version of “rectifying names” (correctlyusing terms) is using them to mark the optimific structure ofcooperative social practices—a utilitarian socialdào (path) (Fraser 2016; Hansen 1989). He groundednormative authority intiān rather than the sage kingsby attributing awill to nature. Natureintends usto follow its structures in ways that lead to universal humanwell-being (lì 利 benefit). Ethicalquestions thus have a single correct answer in an ideally engineeredand shared normative linguistic practice. Mozi’s utilitarianmetaethics began the turn to natural realism, but it remainedhuman-centered and instrumentalist in his early formulations. TheMohist Canons, however, backed away from instrumentalism on the familiar realistgrounds that the most efficient and effective way to use words is tomark real distinctions between thing-kinds that are accessible toordinary folk’s “eyes and ears”.
Daoist primitivism (represented by the mythical Laozi and theanonymous text known as theDàodé Jing) was, asnoted above, a further trend toward a broader ethical naturalism, butwith anti-language, absolutist implications. We should forget orignore all social norms and practices, including linguistic ones.Utility (perhaps egoistic utility) does motivate our behavior asnaturally as water follows the paths created by natural contours ofearth. Language should not interfere in any way with this naturalguiding interaction between us and the open course(es) of nature.
Understanding theZhuangzi is made more difficult by the hugedifferences not only in the philosophical context, but also in thepervasive metaphors that structure and focus discussions of norms ofbehavior in the Chinese vs Indo-European classical traditions. Hispositions invite comparisons with modern metaethical naturalism but hedoes not focus those positions using concepts linked to grammaticalsentences such as “laws” or “rules” (sentencesinall form) or “facts” (sentence-sized chunks ofreality) or “properties” (realities corresponding tosentence predicates).
Zhuangzi used Confucius’s and Mozi’s metaphor,dào. Choosing and interpreting a socialdào shaped Chinese discussions of pragmatic knowing,of knowinghow andknowing to, the components ofknowingdào and havingvirtuosity (德dé)s.Dàos can be social ornatural structures that facilitate and guide us in a sequence ofactions that constitute thebehavior—(xíng 行 walking). Welearn and practice the behaviors and the achievement isknow-how (zhīdào 知道knowing), aware and practice-adapted behavior. Knowing-to is timingand context sensitivity to execute the learned behavior. (Mencius, bycontrast, opined that context sensitiveknowing-to isinnate). We find minimal normative linguistic focus on an internal(de dicto)belief state connected to sentences(knowing-that). Learning is physiological.
Dàos answer practical questions: what to do or how todo it. As the core of warring Chinese conceptions of guidance,dào guidance has phases. The metaphorical structure ofthe character 德 (dé virtuosity) reflects this3-way relation: the left part the path we walk (noticevirtuosity andwalk share the left-side semanticmarker), the right part consists of the graph for an eye(目mú) and the heart (心xīn). We first find or noticepaths, thenchoosethis path overthat (是非shì-fēi this-not that, right-wrong) and thentranslate or interpret the selecteddào to guide ourbehavior (xíng 行 walking: behavior,conduct).
Confuciandàos,rituals (lǐ禮 propriety, custom, manners, courtesy), were tied to namedsocial roles. Learning and practice usually involved the authority ofa teacher who had earlier acquiredvirtuosity(dé 德 excellence, virtue) at that role. Thischain of authority stretched back to the sage kings, but could beacquired via a short-cut, an intuitivedé calledhumanity (rén 仁 charity, humans actingin pairs, reciprocal-altruism). Presumably, that intuition explainshow the sage-king originators of thenamed behavior acquiredit and began the chain of transmission.
Confucius rarely emphasized thechoice phase of the pathmetaphor complex (Fingarette 1972). The rival Mohists add thepragmatic terms 是非 (shì-fēithis-not that) and 辯 (biàn distinction). Theseare pivotal for Zhuangzi and presumably deliberately avoided by theanonymous authors of theLaozi. To use a word, we acquire acapacity, come to know-how tobiàn (distinguish):
Away of using the word may bepermissible(kě 可 permissible, possible) or not.
This cluster of concepts related to the path metaphor was used toshape questions the West would phrase in terms of moral propositions,laws, or principles. Knowinghow to use a word in guidance iswhat constitutes understanding language. Ziporyn (2013) draws furtherattention to Zhuangzi’s occasional use of another path-likeconcept,lane (lǐ 理 principle,tendency). Translators most typically render it“principle”. Zhuangzi and his contemporary Mencius treatlǐ (lane) as a kind of internal path that, Ziporynargues,coheres with outerdàos ofpossibility. This vaguely physical coherence evokes the constructiveinterference of waves. It is less a formula than a “know it whenyou hear it” realization that your performanceresonates. Some things (and people) are suited to followingcertaindàos by their internal resonant structure,theirlǐ. Combined with learning and practice,lǐ can overlap withdé, the degree ofvirtuosity we can acquire atperforming (xíngwalking) the behaviors to fit the situation.
Both Mohists and Confucians tended to focus more on socialdàos and on a narrow concern with human life expressedin their treatingbenevolence (rén 仁concern for other-humans) as the single importantlaneleading tovirtuosity (dé virtue,excellence). Mohists advocated guiding reform of conventional socialdàos using a natural normativedistinction(辯biàn) ofbenefit-harm(利害lì-hài). For Mohists,benefit-harm was anatural (天tiān)way of finding, choosing, reforming andinterpreting socialdàos. In contrast to Confucians,Mohists sought to elaborate theirnatural ways of selectingdào-like social practices as operational, objective,measurement-likestandards (fǎ 法 law,principle) accessible to ordinary humans’ “eyes andears” and minimally subject to prior training andindoctrination.
Chinese linguistic analysis fits naturally into similarlanguage—it concerns ways of using words. The morephilosophically inclined schools began to see those norms of word-useas underlying the disagreements among schools about which socialdàos to follow and how to follow them. The Mohistscouched their discussion of norms of use inchoiceformulations such as “choose” (取qǔ),“pick out” (舉jǔ),“assertible:admissible” (可kě) ,“distinction” (辯biàn),“point” (指zhǐ), and“combine” (合hé). The corepsychological attitude iswéi (為deem:do) which may be expressed as a tendency (in speech, both innerand expressed) to express aright-wrong(shì-fēi 是非 this-not that) judgmentabout how to use a word.To call (wèi謂call it) is both phonetically and semanticallyrelated. Behaviorally, both describe dealing with something associally labeled with thename. Conversely, we canshì orfēi the use of a name of somecontextual object—wèi (call) orwéi (deem) it properly associated with thatname (míng 名 term, word).
Todeem-as (wéi 為 act-on) can beeither to express the category assignment in one’sbehavior—either speech-behavior or behaving toward the object aspeople would be expected to, given that they assigned the object tothat category. The behavior for the category would be found in thesocial or naturaldào (path) they follow. Adeeming-as (wéi 為 act-on) state isless a mental picture of a fact (a belief) than a disposition to treator identify some object as deserving thename. Instead of thewestern reality vs. appearance dialectic, Chinese discussion revolvesaround the contrast of natural (tiān nature:sky)dàos and human (rén) or sociallyconstructed,dàos. The humandàos areconstructed with the help ofnames (míng)strung together intolanguage (言yán).
Mozi, as we noted above, appealed to what he regarded as a naturalutilitystandard to judge the acceptability oflanguage (yán) use and Confucius relied moreon past usage ranging back to the mythical sage kings. Mozi had notedthe obvious arbitrariness of justifying word usage relying onself-referential indexicals (e.g., this is the waywe speak)(Analects 13:19) in justifying his standard of languagereform. This led Mencius to appeal to acultivated,innate seed of universalhuman moral intuition(rén 仁). Sincecultivation typicallyincluded learning and practicing conformity to existing socialpractice, theZhuangzi (2:4) rejected Mencius’ way outof the problem. Thexīn (心 heart (guidingorgan)), he argued, matures with the body and typically acquires itsinclinations toshì-fēi (this-not that) along theway. Each way of shaping the psychological and physical dispositionsto behavior, each actual personal history, is as natural as theothers. Nature (tiān)per se is not a normativeauthority. Norms aredàos that arein nature,but we do not follow “TheDào”ofnature. When we make a normativeshì-fēi(this-not that) judgment, we depend on one of many local parts ofnaturaldào structure of possible options for ourbehavior.
In effect, lifeemerges in nature along with itsdào. Normativity, guided choice, emerges naturallyamong some living things and theirdaos emerge withinlife’sdào. Morality emerges amongsomenormativedàos—among some living creatures. Bycontrast, the craft–inspired Mohists tried to get direct answersfromtiān (sky-nature) using operational measurementtools which “let nature decide” the judgment. This naturalrealism is the most formidable alternative to Zhuangzi’scontextually relativist way of understanding norms of word use.
Normativeshì-fēi (是非 this-notthat) judgments can concern choice of adào or theinterpretive performances of a givendào. Alternately,both normative issues may bekě (可assertible:permissible) or not. Thedàos, possibleguides to behavior, may be natural or social—including,pivotally,dàos of language use. First orderdisagreement could be addressed by appealing to second-orderdàos of choosing or interpreting, e.g., Mozi’sutilitarianism.
Zhuangzi conforms to the general pre-Han model, using a path metaphorto discuss normativity in general. This fuels the traditional view ofhim as a Daoist, but he differs from Laozi in blurring the bright lineof distinction the Laoists drew between natural and socialdàos (Zhuangzi 6:1). Zhuangzi portraysnatural and socialdàos as deeply entangled processeswhich emerge from the processes oflife(tiānxià the world of living things). Humansocialdàos are one among the many natural behaviorsof natural animals. Human language emerges from processes in naturealong with birds tweeting and frogs croaking.
Zhuangzi’s departure from Confucian, Mohist, and primitivistperspectives grounds a more complex view of the structure of naturaldàos which shapes his rejection of the Mencian“heart asruler” model of pathchoice/interpretation decisions. Humans interact in real contexts toconstruct ways of behavior. We dispute about many details by issuingjudgments (shìfēi this/not-that) that“endure like agreements or covenants”. This web of pastcommitments builds up as we pass through life hemming us in as we ageand our capacity to learn afresh declines. We see things through a webof past commitments (Zhuangzi 2:2).
What looked like a natural teleology to Mozi was the emergence ofmany natural kinds which find their different ways in the webof naturaldào without a natural guiding authority. Aspecies design emerges as naturalcapacities(dé virtuosity) for exploiting their possibilities.Humans are among these kinds and with our debates and emergentstructure ofjudgments (shìfēi) wecoordinate to exploit our possibilities with a language.
Since languages, like species, emerge from a natural process ofadapting to possibilities, how can we say some are and some notauthentic?
How candàos be hidden such that some areauthentic (zhēn 真 real, true) and othersartificial (wěi 偽 deceptive, false)?(Zhuangzi 2:4–5)
Mencius and Mozi give rival higher level accounts of why theirproposed socialdàos areauthentic.Mencius’ response to Mozi’s natural teleology was alsospeciesist. Tiān supplies humans with a guiding organ, theheart (xīn 心 heart-mind, mind) as anaturally authorizedruler. Zhuangzi repliesnaturesupplies us with:
A hundred joints, nine openings, six viscera all present and completein me. Is one more related to me than another? Aren’t we pleasedwith them all? Do we have a selfish part in them? Is it to have therest as ministers and concubines? Are its ministers and concubinesincapable of cooperative rule? They take turns as each other’sruler and minister. Is there an authentic (zhēn真) ruler? (Zhuangzi 2:3)
When wewalk the paths in real time, werealize(rán 然 thus, real, true) some of thepossibilities (kě 可 possible,permissible) the path affords. “Dàos arerealized by walking them”. (Zhuangzi 2:6)Human socialdàos become map-like aids in finding andchoosing behaviors. Our knowledge ofdàos isindexical. We learned how, acquired ourvirtuosity(dé), through practice and know-torealizethis behaviorhere now. We have constructed human waysof following nature’s paths of opportunity. We construct them byour past praxis, but we can also learn from other natural animals.They similarly construct naturaldàos which becomeavailable for human finding, choosing, and walking.
Zhuangzi uses the notion ofdependence (yīn因 dependent, relative) to discuss this complexity in thestructure of natural guidance. When we choose a course of conduct, weimplicitly rely on some map as our guide to, ourdàoof choosing among, available paths. We know how to flip a coin; weconsult a desire; we construct a spreadsheet of pros and cons; or wesimply continue with some past praxis. Any time we choose a way to goin life, the choosing itself exercises a learnedbehavior—perhaps by our ancestors or teachers.
Our choices sit atop a complex structure of prior choices by ourselvesand others. This illuminates Zhuangzi’s quip that humansinteract indàos as fish interact in water(Zhuangzi 6:6). We are surrounded and dependent on a complexnatural and human structure ofpossibilities(kě 可). Zhuangzi hints that the implicit regressof ways of choosing waysmight terminate atsomepoint—or not. We are unlikely, given our limited life spans, toreach such a terminus (Zhuangzi 3:1 & 11:3).
Zhuangzi’s discussion, particularly in the philosophically mostsophisticated second chapter, is mainly about the plurality andrelativity of this vast web of iterative mesh ofdàos,natural and social ofdàos anddàos ofthosedàos, and so on. His skepticism, thus, aboutanyone’s knowing themoral (yì 義appropriate, right) choice is not nihilism (that there is no best orright choice). It is natural fallibility since we can only pursue theissue so far given our limited lifetimes.
Zhuangzi’s argument against Mencius’ intuition did notimply that intuition isnot a way of choosing. It is asecond-level choice so we implicitlydepend on a third levelway of choosing second ways of choosing when we act on intuition.Zhuangzi follows Song Xing and Laozi in theZhuangzi’shistory of thought (Zhuangzi 33:3 and ConfuciusAnalects 2:4). All note that our heart’s intuitionsreflect our past training and practice commitments. This is enough forZhuangzi not to rely on them when considering Mozi’s proposedmoral reform. Mozi argued nature wants us to consider utility as a wayof choosing moral convention reform. We don’t get athis/not-thatjudgment without implicitly depending on somepriorjudgment behavior.
Having ashì-fei in the heart without it havingalready been constructed there is like going to Yue today and arrivingyesterday. (Zhuangzi 2:4)
Zhuangzi naturalizesdàos less by attending to naturalphysical guiding structures (e.g., Laozi’sdàosof water) than to the diverse ways of animal life. Each is natural yetdifferent from how humans find and followdàos. Alldepend on their different natural organs which coordinate in followinga path. Eyes take in its shape; hearts react with motivating moods andattitudes and legs and feet carry us forward. Like other animals, wesimilarly coordinate with others, but our socialdàosmature differently and commit to different trajectories. Allof our different societies coordinate in pursuing humandào. This complexity of natural ways of interactionfuels, in turn, both Zhuangzi’s skepticism of absolutes, ofauthority, of ideal observers, and of social dogmas. His mildlyqualified advice is to let each thing work out for itself,自然 (zìrán self-real-ize), how tofind, choose and exploit opportunities in their particularenvironments as they interact.
The other distinctive feature of Zhuangzi’s approach lies in hisextension of this complex relativist orientation to discussingdàos of language. These are socialdàos that are akin to a map’s legend. They addfurther complexity and dependence. Again, this is not to reject them,as much as to remind us of the plethora of possibilities. Grahaminterpreted a famous Zhuangzi trope (the pipes oftiān[天 nature:sky]) as Zhuangzi’s way of positioning languageastiān (natural) sound. And like socialdàos, all of them are natural.
The pipes of earth, these are the hollows everywhere; the pipes ofmen, these are rows of tubes. Tell me about the pipes of Heaven. Whois it that blows the ten thousand differences, makes them their own,all of them self-chosen? What stirs these processes?(Zhuangzi 2:1)
Graham elaborates:
These are apparently the holes in the heart through which thoughtcourses and the mouths which utter it, so that the breath blown byheaven through the inner formations of different men issues incontradictory utterances. (Graham 1969:149; Ziporyn 2009 surveys fiveother interpretations)
Zhuangzi thus removestiān from the role of ultimatenormative authority—the role it plays in both Mozi’s andMencius’s side in the dispute.Tiān cannot settletheir dispute since it “blows equally out of both”. Allsocialdàos that are actually available as choices areequallytiān (natural).Tiān (nature)generatesdàos as it generates thewù(物 thing-kinds (humans and other animals)) that find and followthem. The cosmos is the playground on which things interact, not theauthority that tells them how to act. We self-realize(zìrán) one in the network of naturallypossibledàos.Dàos are chosen fromthe menu found in nature, but none is nature’s choice forus—none of thedàos in nature isthedàoofnature.
Dialectically, Zhuangzi’s replacement fortiān’s role as source of normative guidance wouldbe one of many second-leveldàos of choice and skilledperformance actually possible for ushere, now. He situatesus at indexed points in this cosmic network of paths forward fromhere and now to there in the future.
The philosophical advantage of Zhuangzi’s way of discussingdàos, thus, does not leave him suggesting that what isnatural is moral (analogous to implying “ought” from“is”). Nature gives us a complex three-dimensional networkwith levels of guiding structures in which we humans are left tonavigate (Zhuangzi 6:6).
Greater knowing is calm and comprehensive; smaller knowing is crampedand contentious. Greater language ignites insight; smaller languagedims and diminishes. We sleep and interact with ghosts; Waking westart up our bodies. In interacting, we construct; our guiding-organscontend. We start simply then complexities arise and get moreentangled. Our lesser anxieties motivate us, the greater anxietiesparalyze us. Like a mechanical bow, we spit out directions,“This! Not that! (shì-fēi)” The onesthat dominate lie embedded like sworn oaths as we continue on to ourdeaths which approach like fall and winter. Gradually we disappear,sink below the surface. We cannot recover the dynamism with which webegan to construct the cords which, in our feeble old-age, bring ourguiding-organ near death with no way back to its original creativity.(Zhuangzi 2:2)
This metaphorically florid description of the existential worry aboutthe point of our existence reflects the “we” orientationof Classical Chinese conceptions of normativity. The issue ofknowing-how and guiding with language replaces the belief-knowledge,appearance-reality dynamics in the West. We participate in a socialunit as it constructs itsdàos. We contend with eachother using our own heart-mind—the organ along with the eye thatinteracts with natural paths. As our commitments to past agreed normsor directions accumulate, the social guidance in language becomescomplex and constricting. The resulting inflexibility in ourindividual and social old age is symbolic of our intellectual death,our loss of the ability to find and follow new ways.
Zhuangzi’s narrative turns to the individual processes ofchoosing a direction.
Attitudinal states—happiness, anger, sorrow, delight; concern,admiration, perplexity, resolve; attraction, absorption, excitement,familiarity—arise in turn, like music from hollows, mushroomsfrom the damp; they confront us day and night, Yet, there is noknowing how to interpret them. Still, never mind. They’re thereconstantly; they come from somewhere. (Zhuangzi 2:2)
We don’t know what role these states play but they seem centralto our choosing activity—indeed, in a twist on Buddhism andHume, without their role in our choosing, we would not have an indexedperspective, an ‘I’. (The narrator had introduced theabove “pipes of heaven” metaphor to describe a gestalt he describes as having “saidfarewell to mywǒ (I:me)”.) All guidance is from apoint, an index in the cosmic network of paths for things. The pathsare available to different parts of the cosmos, emergentobjects—physical or living, plants or animals, birds, humans,snakes. Like other animals, our paths are entangled with eachothers’. Individuals are parts of the cosmos, and of theirfamilies, clubs, linguistic communities, political units, etc. whichare also parts of the cosmos withdàos in the cosmos.Each part has its inner processes of seeking, deciding on, andcarrying out some of thedàos that lead from node tonode. As each part performs one of itsdàos, thestructure ofdàos changes. Things emerge anddisappear.
We can walk the paths we’ve been guided to but still see no signof their endorsement by authority. We light on paths and react withheart-mind responses. That’s it. Are all lives as pointless asthis? Or only mine? (Zhuangzi 2:3)
Appeal to the guiding organ’s (心xīnheart-mind) inclinations faces the same problem as appeal to nature.All hearts are natural—the sage’s as well as thefool’s. Our bodies and our guiding organs both change as wepursue a trajectory through our lives (Zhuangzi 2:3). Theshape that isconstructed (成chéng) bylife is implicated in all the decisions we go on to make. Any outputfrom ourconstructed guiding organ will be a product of ourhaving walked one of a range of possibledàos to thispoint.
When we view Zhuangzi’s skeptical relativism in the context ofhis path, learning, and know-how conceptual space, we can see it asmetaphorically more like Einstein’s physical relativism thancultural relativism about truth. We choose and enactdàos from a moving frame of reference constructed ormatured (成chéng) from past commitments. Ourheart-minds reach a point with a frame of reference—at speed ona path. Our point of view, our perspective, comes complete with priorcommitments todàos (ways) of appreciatingand selecting among available paths.
Mozi’s and Mencius’ second-leveldàos forchoosing andwalking dào-like opportunities canthemselves be chosen andwalked correctly or incorrectly.Choosing an epistemicdào, similarly, depends on otherpractically availabledàos for guiding thatmeta-choice… and so on. Zhuangzi does not view these asrational or logical constructions, but as complicated, multi-layerednatural possibilities. Our languages are unlike mere natural sounds inthat they have a scheme of concepts, but any such scheme that in factemerges in a communityof natural beings is a natural one.How we deploy the scheme in real-world behavior is neither fixed norgiven.Dàos of interpretation are both natural andsocially constructed. We regard constructions that work for us in somesituations aszhēn (natural/authentic) and those onwhich we can elaborate at some length as “this” (是shì right) and its rivals as “not-that”(Zhuangzi 2:4).
Zhuangzi postulates no homunculus exercising authority over theorgans, joints, openings in the body. So, what does the choosing?Despite the earlier linking of choosing to the mysterious moods,Zhuangzi focuses less on the conscious subjective experience of ourmental substance or cognitive self and more on the indexical locus ofthe body in space-time. The I:me (我wǒ) isanalogous to the “this” and “that” within thelinguisticdào structure—the grammaticalindexical marks a choosing point in the conceptualand space-time structure. Like Hume’s self,without the naturally occurring grab-bag of emotional attitudes, itwould not be there to play its choosing role. But it is the wholebody, not just those attitudes, that chooses my way of behavior. Thewǒ (I:me) is situated in a multi-layered frame ofreference with its own complicatedchéng (成commitments)—swimming along in sea ofdàosavailable for its choice.
Humans are the parts of the natural cosmos that engage in extensiveteaching and learning of behaviors with a language. Thewǒ (I:me) that has learned and knows-how is situated inexisting commitments embedded in an indexed here-now in the network ofways to which is has and will assignshì-fēi(this-not that). Eachshì-fēi (this-not that) it“shoots out” further commits it to a path. The first levelpaths have a shape, but thedàos of correct choice andperformance are acquired by learning and lodged inside theperformer’s body and not always plainly visible.
The trend from Confucius’s socially constructed humanism towardZhuangzi’s naturalism had been gradual. Mozi’s argumentfor basing such constructions on a natural distinction of universalbenefit and harm was an early step. Mencius developed both hisresponse to Mozi and his account of the role ofrén(仁 benevolence) as arguments that Confucian ritual behavior hadevolved from natural (tiān) intuitive response patternsin the heart (心xīn). Mencius’ answer toMozi drew on Yang Zhu’s naturalism. Mencius portrayed his otherdialectical rival as a normative egoist. Graham credits Yang with theprimitivist notion of an inbornxíng (性bio-nature) which is a normative “gift: endowment” fromtiān (sky-nature). Thus, all three postulated anatural (tiān) normative authority. Threechoices, egoism, utilitarianism, and intuition were the rivalsecond-level sources ofnatural (tiān)guidance. The target of this choice was Mozi’s socialconstruction of morality.
Zhuangzi views the paradigm normative debate in ClassicalChina—therú-mò (Confucian-Mohist)dispute—through his lens of epistemic dependence(yīn). We face all choices with a prior,fixed(chéng) commitment todàos, to guidingperspectives. He introduces his perspective on perspectives thus:
Where candào (guides) hide such that there aregenuine and artificial? Where canyán (言language) hide such that there isshì-fēi(是非 this-not that)? Where candàos hidesuch that they do not exist? How can ayán (言language) exist and not bekě (可 assertible)?Dàos hide behind small achievements and language hidesbehind rhetorical flourishes and elaboration. So, you have the“shì (this)fēi (not that)”of the Confucians and Mohists. Of what one says “this” theother says “not that” and of what the other says“not that” the first says “this”. If you wantto “not that” what the other “this’s”and “this” what the other “not that’s”,nothing beatsmíng (明 illumination).(Zhuangzi 2:4)
This passage and its conclusion have fueled a lively interpretivedebate around three positions: absolutism (one, perhaps mysticalway), nihilism (noway), and pluralistic relativism(severalways). Zhuangzi’s enigmatic conclusion and theinterpretation of his recommendation to usemíng(明 illumination) is only part of the issue.
The first concern is whether one should even engage in normativethis, not that (shì-fēi right-wrong)discourse. There are many versions of a negative answer. Most mirrorthe posture of the Primitivists—exemplified by Shen Dao andLaozi. It amounts to a first order “natural” norm that weshould not makeshì-fēi (this-not that)judgments—period. It follows immediately, we shouldn’tengage in disputes abouthow to make them (Graham 1989). Asecond version allows making them, but avers that no dispute can besettled. So, although wemay engage, doing so is futile (Lai& Chiu 2014).
Another variation assumes ethical egoism and sees engaging innormative disputes as personally costly by upsetting one’sequilibrium (Kjellberg 1994; Raphals 1994). A sibling social point ofview is that such disputes disruptsocial equilibrium (Walker2022; Lai & Chiu 2014; Coutinho 2015). Perhaps engaging inshì-fēi disputes bespeaks an unseemly obsessionwith being right (Wong 2005). Or, in the extreme, anything thatresults from engaging in a dispute is wrong or self-contradictory(Coutinho 2015 and Graham 1989). These anti-discursive attitudes fundthe nihilistic (“there is no way to know right fromwrong”) interpretation ofmíng.
These lines of defeatist interpretation ofmíng arehelped along by some engaging slogans and metaphors which Zhuangziuses in various places: fasting the mind (Fraser 2014b), wanderingwithout aim (Fraser 2014a), “goblet” language spillingover (Chiu 2015). Each slogan is made reasonable in the contexts ofthe parable in which it occurs: a dangerous diplomatic mission to anunstable tyrant, skilled artists engaged in complex performances,puzzles made worse by thinking in ruts. Zhuangzi is particularly knownfor his attention to know-how (skill-knowledge). The smooth exerciseof a complex acquired skill may be hindered by rehearsing coachingslogans. Zhuangzi also advocates open-mindedness and creativity, urgesus to find alternativedào solutions which may requireletting go of or rethinking commitments (Lai 2022b). Avoiding somecommitments can increase options—but motivating the strategydepends on a commitment to access to more options. Frasercontrasts “instrumental” and “moderate”interpretations in context with mystical (Yearly 1983), absolutist, ornihilist/Stoic (Coutinho 2015) versions of Zhuangzi’s views ondiscursive behavior.
The philosophical objection to this familiar emphasis on the defeatistslogans is theZhuangzi’s (Ch. 33) repudiation of ShenDao’s fatalist posture with the familiar, anti-discursive, stoicresult. The absolutist, intuitive anti-discursive stance clashes withthe extended argument (above) against “yougentlemen’s” intuition—the idea that a natural,neutral immediate judgment exists that does not depend on someacquired,chéng (constructed)dào ofjudgment.
Talk of Daoist intuition here is befuddled by atranslation-interpretation confusion concerning of the Chinese term辯biàn (distinction/dispute). It and theWestern notion of anargument are ambiguous, but theambiguities overlap at only the “dispute” end.“Argument” is ambiguous betweenquarrel andsentences arranged in validproof structures. 辯Biàn (distinction) is ambiguous betweenquarrel and making distinctions, the “this, notthat” choice ofway ofwalking here, now.
Although the Later Mohists had started reflecting on matters thatmight eventually have led them to formulate the concept of sentencesarranged in a validargument structure, they were not close.Their central notion of justification was that of a standard whichcould yield the correct discrimination—the Mohist 法fǎ (measurement standard). Zhuangzi was interested inlanguage but in neither syntax nor logical form. He doesn’treject Western rationalism, but neither does he promote it. ForChinese philosophers, intuition was not the second levelopposite of logic. It was immediate judgment without appealto any other second level way of deciding and interpreting (e.g.,flipping a coin, measurement operation).
The Mohists, however, had one important logic-like result—therejection of self-condemning judgments—of which Shen Dao’sfēi-ing of eitherfēi-ingorshì-ing is a paradigm. Any judgment condemning alljudgment is perverse. The problem with these general anti-discursivestrategies is not that they are illogicalin Western terms,but thatthey were known to be defective in China by anyoneversed in the Later Mohist dialectic—as we’re assumingZhuangzi to be. These anti-discursivegeneral strategies donot play well with Graham’s insight that Zhuangzi has masteredthe Later Mohists’ technical language and theory and that hesuccessfully constructs an alternative theory oflanguage.
Another strategy suggests Zhuangzi engages in discussions only forentertainment—toying with words (Moeller & D’Ambrosio2017), speaking ironically (Ziporyn 2012; Walker 2019) and parodyingthe position he seems to espouse. Some characters in Zhuangzi’sdialogues wonder about exceptional figures who allegedly haveabilities that justify that posture—the capacity to transcendour location in points of view and to lecture all of us from aprivileged perspective. TheZhuangzi’s responsetypically reminds them that such idealized points of view are neitherintelligible to us nor relevant to whatwe, ordinary types,should do. Either these exceptional observers have their own naturallychéng (fixed) frames of reference in the naturalworld, or they are outside of the natural world in someunrealisticallyunbounded realm. If the latter, then theirviews are both unintelligible and irrelevant to natural beings. Whatthey would do in our situation does not constitute helpful adviceto us. To advocate following the advice of these idealobservers is to speak practical nonsense to non-ideal, actualactors.
In the discussion of skepticism, Zhuangzi’s spokesman says:
“So, you don’t know what is beneficial or harmful, doesthe ‘fully arrived human’ necessarily not knowthem?”
Kingsley replied, “the fully arrived person becomes puresapience, he could be in a blazing forest and not be able to feel anyheat, the rivers of our civilization could freeze and hecouldn’t feel any chill, devastating lighting could pulverizemountains and the wind raise a tidal wave and he could not experiencesurprise. Someone like that could ride on clouds and air, straddle thesun and moon, and wander beyond the four oceans. Death and life arenot different for him, much less the inclinations of benefit andharm”.
Master Ju Que asked master Zhang Wu, “I’ve heard from myteacher that a sagely man does not find social dealings worthengaging, doesn’t pursue utility, doesn’t avoid harm,doesn’t take delight in striving, doesn’t followdàos; in silence, he says things and in saying things,is silent. He roams outside the nitty-gritty of the actual world.Master regarded this as romantic fantasy but I deem it the executionof a mysteriousdào. My kind sir what do you say ofthis?”
Zhang Wu replied, “This is something that, were the YellowEmperor to hear, it would be like buzzing, and so how could the likesof Confucius come to know it? Furthermore, you have jumped toconclusions…. I’ll give you some absurd talk and youabsurdly listen”. (Zhuangzi 2:11–12)
As Ziporyn notes, one may read these passages ironically ormystically. Zhuangzi looks to be parodying the idea of a wordlessintuition or of guidance from an absolute, cosmic, or transcendentdào. “Where can I find a man who has forgottenlanguage so I can talk with him” (Zhuangzi 26:13). Wewill revisit the second theme below; in either reading, it practicallyamounts to not taking passages rejecting discursive activity asexpressing Zhuangzi’s serious,general, philosophy oflanguage, decision, know-how and behavior.
Both rivals in the Confucian-Mohist dispute would have accepted theexistence of a correct answer—either the distinction made by thehigher ranked intuition (the educated or intuitive gentleman or sage)or that obtained by operating measurement-like total-utility standard.Neither would have found thedebate process itself as tendingtoward the right result (as a Western rationalist would). Mozi comescloser, suggesting no one can resist his measurement-based language(Mozi 12a:18) and his analysis of the Confucian second level standardas self-defeating (Mozi 4c:4). For the intuitionist, the issue boilsdown to whose immediate, intuitive judgment is superior; for theMohist, it is that a measurement-like operation would settle thematter, not the words expressed in dispute.
Note that their dispute pivots on their second levelway ofchoosing a first level social behavior, e.g., the Confucian elaborateburial and three years of mourning. Zhuangzi’s insight that theheart’sshì-fēis depend on one of manyprior, naturally constructed or learned perspectives, illuminates whythe dispute persists. If we measured utility, the answer would havebeen obvious. The Confucian, however, with their cultivated moralattitude about elaborate funerals and three-year mourning period, seesthe Mohist appeal to “gain” as morally callous andinsensitive to their moral role. The very idea of thinkingmathematically about the funeral of your grandfather!! If we decidedby our existing instinctive or cultivated normative attitudes, theanswer would be equally obvious.
This awareness of the many ways of choosing and interpreting is thealternativeconstructive candidate formíng(明 illumination). There are many second level standards and ourchoice among them is as complex as our original choice of first levelbehaviors. If there were a single naturally possible one, the disputewould not persist. Zhuangzi explicitly rejects intuition—asbiased, imperfect, and only one among many ways to choosethis andnot-that. A cultivated (and even innate)intuition needn’t be ruled out. Nor does he reject utilitarianmeasurement. He rarely uses the character 法fǎ(measurement-standards), but when he does, it is coherent with Mohistuse. TheZhuangzi history recapitulates the common objectionthat Mohists measure material well-being but discount the value ofmusic (entertainment or pleasure). One way to account for all of thisis coherent with the multiple dependency theme applied to the regressofdàos of choice and evaluation ofperformance—there are many different conceptions of benefit andmany different ways of measuring and points of view where benefitjudgments diverge. Zhuangzi’s most beloved example is theusefulness to a tree of its being useless to humans whichinterestingly wars with his story a goose who is killed for beinguseless—not being able to honk (Zhuangzi 20:1).
TheZhuangzi emphasizes the plurality of natural stances orpoints of view from which one may see paths of possible behavior as“natural”. For one of the paths to be available forme will be dependent on where I amgalloping and atwhat speed and direction in mygiven trajectory in thenetwork. All the appeals totiān (nature) as anauthority are right in insisting theirdàos arenatural, but mistaken in using that as a reason to deny a similarstatus to thedàos of rival normative thinkers.Tiān cannot serve as an arbiter of which rival norm iscorrect since it equally “puffs” all of them out. Thisallows each to claim their choices are oftiān (natural)dàos but does not allow them the corollary that theirrival’s choicesviolate tiān. They, like us,conform withtiān’s constancies in being committedto theirdàos.
Anyshì-fēi (this: right) judgment concerning adào would be a naturallyyīn (因dependent)shì judgment, based on prior or enactedcommitments, gestalts orientations, and inner processes. Those pastdào commitments bring us to a normative stance here,now, from which successive judgments ofshì-fēiandkě (可 permissible) vs. notkěarise. Zhuangzi’s pivotal illustration pairs 是shì (this) with 彼bǐ (that) asnear and far indexicals. “Any thing can be a ‘this;’any thing can be a ‘that’”.
Local justifications for havingshì-fēi (this-notthat) orkě (assertible) are delivered in accordance ourchéng (fixed) commitment momentum along thedàos that guided us to this point in time and space.This relativity of normative dependence underpins Zhuangzi’smildly ironic skepticism of special or extraordinary normativestatuses we give to, e.g., sages. We should doubt any transcendent orallegedly perfect, totalistic epistemic access to nature’sinexpressible normative know-how. There are nonaturallyideal observers.
Will the eventual result be there is bothshì(是 this: right) and (彼 that)? Will the eventual resultbe there is neithershì norbǐ? We cancall the situation of neithershì norfēi finding its opposite the “pivot ofdào (道 guides)”. The pivot sets the startof the center of a sphere from which there are inexhaustibleresponses—inexhaustibleshì and inexhaustiblefēi. Hence the saying “nothing matchesmíng (明 discernment)”. (Zhuangzi2:5)
This cautious skepticism undergirds Zhuangzi’s departure fromthe primitivists’. He neither concludes that we must not issueshì-fēi judgments nor that we must reject or denyour natural, situational inclinations toshì-fēi.We should, instead, adopt an attitude of epistemic modesty, healthyskepticism, while making our perspective-based choices andrecommending our interpretations to others. That modesty arises frommíng (clarity) that our perspective, like theirs,arise from a complex and complicated naturaldàostructure. Zhuangzi’s skepticism (below) does not indict ourepistemic apparatus; it’s literally about the extent of ourlives in the great scheme of being. We are small, short-livedcreatures in a vastly complicated structure. Epistemic modesty alsoundergirds Zhuangzi’s openness and willingness to interact withothers. If nature has a point of view, it is one in which allactual dàos ofshì-fēi-ing innature are available as candidate guiding structures. Nature makes nochoice; it is not an actor with an absolute or superior normativestatus on what is right, what to “this”. Nature makesactualdàos as candidates for us tonaturally(自然zìrán self-realize) chooseand walk.
Understandingmíng (明 illumination) asawareness of this dependence on our history and the multiplicity ofsuch perspectives does not require that the perspectives areimpenetrable to each other. While they explain disagreement, they donot require it.Míng provokes us to realize that wemay make progress and improve our guiding perspective byincorporating, simulating, and broadening to include the guidingperspectives of others. A rare tale, by contrast, warns us about whenthedàos of others do not mesh well with our naturaland pre-learned capacities—the boy from Shouling who goes tolearn the Handan way of walking which “cripples” hisoriginal ability without mastering the Handan walk (Zhuangzi17:10). Still a third outcome of the interaction, as with violentgangsters and rulers, reminds us simply to keep our distance or if weventure into the situation, to use extreme caution.
A rival interpretation treats Zhuangzi’s discussion of a Pivotor Axis ofdaos as an invitation to regardmíng as a cosmic perspective,the view ofNature, from both everywhere and/or nowhere. Míng is not alimited, modest perspective on perspectives—a simple recognitionfromhere of many other natural perspectives around. This isthe kind of passage Ziporyn (2012) and Walker (2019) treat as ironicbecause the transcendent unity of all things defies coherentexpression, or is “boundless”. Like Shen Dao’sGreat Dào, it cannot offer meaningful guidance to anyproperpart of the cosmos.
The “modest” interpretation, by contrast, does not makethe GreatDào unintelligiblemetaphysically.There is an evolving probability structure that is thedào of the universe. What is unintelligible isregarding that GreatDào asprescriptive—as something that guides us absolutelyrather than relative to who and where and when we are. It isincoherent to treat greatDào as the guide to ourlives but also incoherent to regard the cosmos asfollowing apath. Thecosmos (tiān-dì heaven-earth)is not a decider or actor making “this”“not-that” judgments. There are many deciders withinnature realizing options from here, now and greatDàoresults from all those self-realizations. Follow the axis ofdàos is ironic advice because it says do what youwill do. As Laozi told us,dào followszìrán (自然 self-so, nature).Normativity and choice emerge as the cosmos unfolds; thedào changes as we choose and enact one of the possiblepaths nature offers us.
As we saw above, Zhuangzi similarly treats talk about the perfect man,one who has arrived, or sages who judge from the perspective oftiān as ironic.Dào is monistic andincludes all perspectives as parts, but no actual being (proper partof the cosmos) makes normative judgments from the perspective of“the One”. Because of this, we don’t try for aperspectiveless perspective, but use the shared, common perspective ofour community (Zhuangzi 2:6). We can understand others withwhom we interact and find ways to accommodate and cooperate, whichZhuangzi calls “walking two ways”). Learning from otherscan also help us see how to walk in the natural paths together withoutgetting in the other’sway. (Zhuangzi2:6).
It must also be ironic to say all paths areright, or allwrong, or allequal. In understanding other’strajectories along theirdàos, wemay judgethem as correct or incorrect. We do this from some limited, local,present perspective. From any actual perspective, we neither concludethat all are right, wrong, or equal. Certainly, not all are equallyworthy ofour choice. Nor need we judge that all are thecorrect choicesfor those following them. We maymíng that their grounds for their choices aredifferent from ours and still find them dogmatic, careless, orunwarranted in their application ofthose grounds. Nothingabout the merenaturalness of such choices arising makes themright. All this is compatible with recognizing others asnatural creatures guided by natural inner processes along naturalguidingdàos.
We can and do judge that we might gain from being aware of andengaging in open exchanges with different perspectives—as inZhuangzi’s dialogues. We are more inclined to follow a path, andgiven our similarities, think we might pursue it with benefit when weknow some natural being like us found and followed it. And Zhuangziclearly does ridicule the political moralists (Confucians and Mohists)as well as Hui Shi for the narrowness of their range ofchoices—their failure to appreciate the richness and complexityof alternative ways of life.
We learn from openness and exchange because we acquire commitmentsfrom simulating others’ path following behavior. That weprogress in such exchanges is something we ourselves judge from here,not the cosmos from nowhere. We are naturally influenced byothers’ evaluations, their judgments of our choices and theirbehavioral virtuosity—especially when the others are ourparents, perceived superiors, and respected models. These, again, aretheyīn (因 dependencies) of ourjudgments (shì). The back history of ourlearning-how extends to the emergence of life itself.
This gives Zhuangzi’s indexical relativism a different contourfrom Hui Shi’s. The latter structures his analysis mainly oncomparatives. This leads him to a version of normative “errortheory”—the conclusion that we should abandon normativesemantic distinctions as all wrong. Since thebiàn(辯 distinctions) on which they are based are relative, they areunreal. Ergo, there are no real distinctions and the world is a onewith no parts. Any distinction making judgment, anyshì-fēi (this-not that), unnaturally divides“The One”. Hui Shih’s Tenth Thesis is:
Flood concern on all the 10,000 thing-kinds; The cosmos is onetí (體 unit-part). (Zhuangzi 33:7)
Graham, relying on his hypothesis that Zhuangzi frequently considerspositions which he later rejects, had already targeted thisstereotypical view of Zhuangzi as agreeing with Hui Shi’smonism. Graham’s translation reveals thereductio thatputs monism in a “considered and rejected” category. Itamounts to the self-rebutting anti-language stance targeted by theLater Mohists—the error Zhuangzi’s naturalism of allperspectives (the “pipes of heaven”) was intended to avoid.
“[H]eaven and earth were born together with me and the myriadthings and I are one”.
Now that we are one, can I still say anything? Now that I have calledus one, did I succeed in not saying something? One and the saying maketwo, two and one make three. Proceeding from here even an expertcalculator cannot get to the end of it, much less a plain man.(Zhuangzi 2:9)
Zhuangzi’s relativism expresses choice, commitment, andinterpretive performance on analogy to natural processes involved infollowing a path. Commitment is setting off along a path. We havemomentum and a trajectory. The shape of the path combines with theseandcommits us to walk on or continue in a way that dependson the discernible shape of the path. Walking a path involves stayingmostly within its physical boundaries.
This account allows us to capture the flavor of Zhuangzi’sdiscussion which differs from the familiar Western sentence-basedmetaphors of laws, rules, principles with norms ofobedience,belief, or propositional desire. If we used the Westernidiom, we would add the distinction between a cause and a reason.Zhuangzi’s relativist talk ofyīn (因dependence) on our location, trajectory and momentum on a path ofchoosing and interpreting courses of behavior guided by our internaldé (德 virtuosity) feedback loop as we“read” and translate external paths into behavior isnatural but not fatalistic. Ziporyn (2013) highlighted the physicalcoherence of ourlǐ (internaldào) andgrowingvirtuosity as we become better at choosing andprocessing natural guidance.
Zhuangzi, thus, would not make his point in terms of deduction from anormative premise or principle. The internal and external pathsthemselves have a causal and normative relation to our walkingbehavior. A Western sentential focus would similarly mean describingthe outcome asan action rather than an extendedcourseof walking/following behavior. Performing a role in a play or apart in a symphony fits better in Zhuangzi’s metaphorical space.Zhuangzi’s reaction to Shen Dao’s fatalism is not theassertion of Western “free will” but starts from livingthingszìrán, themselves choosing and realizinga possibility for their behavior.
Zhuangzi’s use of the path metaphor did extend to theunderstanding of language but, again, not with a focus on sententials.Rather than constructingdàos in sentential form,Zhuangzi construes language itself as a bit of a socialdào—an environmental possibility of verbalbehavior for a human inthat time and place to learn andmaster. The focus of ancient Chinese theory was on names on theanalogy of path markers: “go past the tree, turn right, and thendown to the water”. Names take on importance as sign-posts alongphysical structures. Confucian social versions emphasized the names ofsocial roles and social statuses. Mozi expanded the model to includenatural kinds. Primitivist opposition to socialdàosled them into the sweeping anti-naming postures that Later Mohistsshowed to be self-condemning.
Graham’s interpretation of Zhuangzi’spipes of nature pictured language as natural sound. Zhuangzi’s relativism,however, is more careful than Hui Shi’s. Hui Shi used relativistpremises to derive an absolutist monism which collapsed into thefamiliar self-defeating primitivist anti-language quietism. Hui Shiviewed making everything one asdenying(fēi-ing) anybiàn (辯distinctions). That, the Mohists said, wasfēi-ingfēi-ing. That was a second example the Later Mohistsgave of self-defeating, anti-language formulae. Itfēi-sallmíng (名 terms) andyán(words: language) itself.
Zhuangzi’s naturalism is anti-dogmatic; it neither denies noraffirms any particular set of distinctions asauthentic(zhēn). Distinctions emerge at indexed (here-now) pointsin the network of real-world of actually possibledàoperspectives. We, in our social groups, are travelers on a trajectoryalong one of thedàos of choosingshì-fēi (是非) from among multiplepossible courses of human group behavior afforded by the cosmos. Ourgroup, not the cosmos, selected which way to make the choice.
When Zhuangzi returns to the metaphor later in the chapter, he agreesthat language is notmerely wind. Those who use language havelanguage. The Later Mohists are right that languages have built-inaboutness. Their mistake is in regarding what language isabout asfixed—Mohist semantic realism.
Language is not blowing; those who use language, have language. Thatwhich is languages is decidedly not yet fixed. Is the eventual resultthat they have language? Or there has never been language? Deeming itas different from bird calls: does that mark a distinction? Or isthere no distinction? (Zhuangzi 2:4)
The Later Mohists had also argued that when abiàn(辯 distinction) was formulated as ashì-fēi, e.g., one of the disputants calls it“ox” and the other “not-ox”, one of them mustshèng (勝 win), i.e.,dāng(當 hit on it). Zhuangzi denies that “winning”(shèng) in a relevant social process (game ofsupporting a way of distinguishing by appealing to a higher-order wayof distinguishing) means one isguǒ (果substantively)shì (correct).
Thisdào-centered insight resembles the observationthat one could “win” the game of giving and asking forreasons for a propositional belief, which could still fail to be true.Even if “winning” consists in constructing the betterargument, and although rationalists may view valid reasoning astending toward truth, Zhuangzi’s analogue of the“norm of truth” entails that one may have the betterargument and still be wrong.Zhuangzi does not have therationalistconcept of truth, but he has a conception of“the norm of truth”. (See Fraser 2012 for a related claimabout Later Mohists’ concept ofdāng—that itplays theexpressive role of truth).
Zhuangzi construes winning as one side conceding or getting theapproval of a judge (Zhuangzi 2:12). The Later Mohists’common-sense realism incorporated social conventions. Conventions setout whatwù (物 natural-kind) each term“selects out” orbiàn (distinguishes) fromthe rest. They thenextend that distinction to select out newrealities relying on similarity or difference (being accessible to“eyes and ears” of ordinary people). Hui Shi, however, hadargued that between any twowù (物natural-kinds) there issome similarity andsomedifference. So, even with a “winning” concept in place,there may be many ways to project it on other realities. So even theagreement of a community could not finally fix the reference of theterm.
The Later Mohists had ruled out what they calledkuāngjǔ (狂舉 wild picking out), butfailed to find an adequate account of what similarities would count aswild andnot-wild. The frustrating vagueness andsignature indecision in the text’s comparison of language tobird-calls leaves interpreters free to treat this observation asironic. But it need not be. The analogy with bird calls might be afortuitous suggestion. We arrange, adapt, and modulate the elements ofour language to fit our environment, abilities, and opportunities(e.g., mating). Had Zhuangzi guessed the same about birds? Zhuangziotherwise accepts our social nature and the social nature oflanguage—but only, he emphasizes, pragmatically.
Only those who “break through” know how to communicatewith it as a “one”. Because of this, we don’t usethat strategy and instead locate things in the common realm. Thecommon is useful; the useful, communicable, and the communicableachievable. If you hit on the achievable, you are nearly there anddependentshìs end. (Zhuangzi 2:6)
Humans, in finding ways to walk and walking them, initiate theconstruction of social paths, naturally and perhaps unintentionally,by leaving prints in the natural world. Zhuangzi links the pathmetaphor to a society’s linguistic practice thus:
That which we treat askě (可 assertible) iskě (可 assertible); that which we treat as notassertible is not assertible.Dàos are made by walkingthem; thing-kinds are maderán (然 so) by beingcalled “so”. (Zhuangzi 2:6)
This sense of the immense complexity and the fluid nature of normativecommitments to adào (path) underlie Zhuangzi’sskeptical themes.Míng (明 clear: discerning)seems linked to the gestalt in which we accept ourselves as embedded,along with others similarly situated, in nature’s endlesslycomplex evolution of guiding structures.
Zhuangzi’s argument using thewarning function of anorm of truth (even when justified by our best available judgingstandards, we may still be wrong) leads to one of his formulations ofskepticism. We cannot finally settle skeptical doubts by winningdisputes, particularly not by appeal to a judge or authority.
So, you and I and others cannot know, and in these conditions on whatother can we rely? The changing sounds’ mutual dependence islike their conjoint autonomy. Harmonize them with glances at natureand make them dependent on eventual consensus and with that exhaustthe years. (Zhuangzi 2:12)
The conclusion is less a solution to the skeptical problem posed thanmerely a way to cope constructively with the complexity anduncertainty of normative guidance for creatures like us in this vastcomplicated network of possibility. The prior passages ruled out anyappeal to a special authority of any other point of view—whilegiving a similar role in the construction to all. The constructionresults from each of our choices from our indexed point of view.However useful and widely shared, this “conventionalwisdom” does not have special authority—say, over othercreatures. This passage follows Zhuangzi’s notorious toying withthe perspectives of animals:
Gap-tooth asked Kingsley, “Do you know that which all naturalkinds agree inendorsing (shìthis-ing)?”
He answers, “How would I know that?”
“Then, do you know of what you don’t know?”
“And how could I know that?”
“So, does no natural kind know anything?”
“And how would I know that? Nonetheless, let me try to put it inlanguage. How would I know that what I call ‘knowing’ isnot ‘not-knowing’? And what I call‘not-knowing’, ‘knowing’. And let me try aquestion on you. If people sleep in the damp, they get pains andparalysis; would eels? If in a tree, they tremble in fear; wouldmonkeys? Of the three, does any know the correct place to live?… From where I see it, the origins of goodness and morality,painting things as ‘this/right’ or‘not-that/wrong’ are, as boundaries, both confused andcomplicated; how could I know how to distinguish them?”(Zhuangzi 2:11)
The skeptical conclusion about the norms of correct word use makesZhuangzi’s skepticism Chinese, unlike Western skepticism ofbeliefs. The Later Mohists divided knowing how to use words into fourparts, knowing terms, knowing objects, knowing how to match them, andacting (on that matching). We know-of a term and an object and how tomatch them in guiding our behavior. Knowing how to use words issomething we learn from our different pasts. Linguistic skepticismeasily metastasizes to virtually any commitment expressed in termsthat distinguish one thing from others. Even given a past practice, itapplies to a present alleged conformity to that practice. According towhichdào of projecting past practice should we judgethis linguistic behavior as conforming to our commitment andthat not? Normative skepticism in a use-theory is hard tocontain—especially when the model of all judgments is as someindexedshì-fēi (是非 this-not that)assignment of terms to the world. It sweeps in metaphysics,epistemics, and semantics.
A consequence is that Zhuangzi’s skepticism is broad but weak.Broad because it infects so many judgments, but weak in the epistemicsense of denying final certainty but allowing for varying degrees ofknowledge. Donald Sturgeon (2015) has helped to clarify this featureof Zhuangzi’s epistemology. He credits the text’snon-ironic reference to greater and lesser knowing and callsZhuangzi’s a “positive” skepticism. (Other proposedterms for substantivemild skepticism areconstructiveskepticism [Wong 2022],epistemic modesty [Hansen 2003],andfallibilism [Coutinho 2015].) Thetrue skepticalthesis encourages gainingmíng (insight,understanding) into other perspectives to improve our epistemicdé (virtuosity). It reminds us that we are equipped tofind our way, given our various natures, around our bit of the naturalstructure. It does not equip us to fathom the whole, but curiosity,open-mindedness, andunderstanding (míng)another perspective helps usknow more and better.
Positive skepticism, like non-substantivetherapeuticskepticism (Raphals, Kjellberg, and Schwitzgebel, in Kjellbergand Ivanhoe (eds) 1996), is a recommendation, but remains trueskepticism because it reminds us “our confidence in our owncomprehensive view is neither reliable nor unique to us” (Hansen2003). We are normally inclined to overestimate our knowing. We learnthis from past experience of coming to appreciate anotherperspective—Sturgeon highlights Zhuangzi’s story of theEarl of the river, proud of its massive extent, flowing on anddiscovering the more impressive perspective of the Lord of the NorthSea. Adopting the new perspective, the Earl is immediately tempted tothink henow has the correct comprehensive view untilreminded by the Lord of the North Sea of its smallness in the greatscheme of the universe (Zhuangzi 17:1–2).
Zhuangzi’s skepticism is mild because it does not constitute areason to abandon what we know nor to avoid acting when we know how.Appreciating other natural perspectives does remind us that our view,even if recently broadened, is still subject to further improvement.It should provoke curiosity, not paralysis. It does not rest on anytheory of the probability of an error arising fromthisdào of knowing. It rests only on the existence ofother natural ways of knowing. As such, it neither undermines what wehave learned nor give us reason to stop practicing known behaviors .Appreciating that others reach their perspective as naturally as we doonly removes our claim to special natural status for making judgments.We are equally situated in natural situations calling for guidance butdifferently endowed to know and act.
Zhuangzi’s skepticism is supported by our own past experiencesof learning, of acquiring new gestalts, of realizing that what we hadconsideredthe way, was subject to reconsideration andimprovement. It reminds me to remain open to the further possibilityof learning. We can benefit from open-minded survey of other naturalways, how other natural creatures, human and not, process and performin our shared world—we learn there are otherdàos.
Gaptooth’s drawing attention to different conceptions of knowinglies at the heart of the famous debate between Zhuangzi and Hui Shiabout knowing of fish-pleasure in which Zhuangzidefends aclaim to know against Hui Shi’s epistemic challenge. Differentconcepts of “knowing” underwrite different norms of usingit in different contexts of application.
Zhuangzi and Hui Shi wandered over the Hao River bridge. Zhuangzisaid, “those mini-fish coming from there and cruising around,relaxed and unhurried, are fish at leisure”. Hui Shi said,“You are not a fish; from whence do you know the leisure offish?” Zhuangzi retorted, “You are not me, from whence doyou know my not knowing fish at leisure?” Hui Shi responds,“I’m not you, of course I don’t know about you; Youare not a fish and that’s enough to count as you’re notknowing fish’s leisure”. Zhuangzi concludes,“Let’s return to where we started. When you said,‘from what perspective do you know fish at leisure’, youclearly knew my knowing it as you asked me. I knew it here above theHao”. (Zhuangzi 17:13)
Graham drew our attention to the role of perspective in this passage,noting that Hui Shi’s challenge to Zhuangzi’s assertiondoes not use the normal question form (何hé howdo you know?), but a locative question word (安ānwhence?). This brings the debate into alignment with Zhuangzi’sconcern about the various perspectives from which to deploy adào of word use. Here, as above, the word iszhī (知 know). The norm of asserting, as inEnglish, involves answering the challenge “how do youknow?” What normative conditions allow me, here and now,correctly to use the termzhī (know)—hence to makethe assertion about these fish below me? Hui Shi both knew Zhuangziwas relying on adào of using ‘know’“from Zhuangzi’s here”and Hui Shiknew Zhuangzi’s situation from his own relevantly similar“here-now” and relying onthe samedào (道 norm) of claiming to know from adistinct perspective. Hui Shi cannot consistently insist that speakerscan only usezhī (知 know) when they occupy theperspective of the object they are aware of.
The argument about knowing the perspective of fish implies we can havea perspective on the perspectives of others without sharing theirsubjectivity. Daoist theory of others’minds would workby seeingfrom here the paths of behavior available to themand their current direction and speed-commitment along an existingpath. Knowingfrom here would follow different norms fromknowingin there. Zhuangzi, here, uses perspective relativismto justify a way of claiming to know.
In other parables, he addresses the kind of knowing that comes after agestalt shift, especially when we see our own and others’ pointsof view as similar—see ourselves as others see us. A benefit isour self-recognition as a creature embedded as are others within anatural perspective in a network of perspectives. This picture ofourselves encourages being open-minded, humbling our epistemic pride,mildly disrupting our judgment equilibrium. Without this perspectiveon ourselves, we too easily fall into exaggerating our epistemicexceptionalism. The reminder that we are intermingled with others in aweb of natural perspectives serves as a realistic correction. AZhuangzi story illustrates such a moment.
Zhuangzi was wandering in Diaoling fields when he glimpsed a weirdmagpie-like-thing flying in from the south. It had a wingspan of overseven feet and passed so close his forehead, he could feel it. Then itgathered its wings and settled in a chestnut grove. Zhuangzi thought“what bird is that? Massive wings of such power and eyes solarge it couldn’t see me”. He hiked up his robe andhurriedly tiptoed closer holding his crossbow at the ready. Then hespotted a cicada settling in the shaded shelter without a worry foritself, but a praying mantis opened its pincers about to grab it, alsofocused on its gain and ignoring its own bodily danger. The strangemagpie burst out and harvested them both—similarly unaware ofthe natural dangers he faced. But Zhuangzi was suddenly seized withthis thought, “We natural kinds are all interconnected! Wevaried species are mutually seeing things in our own ways”.Suddenly, hearing the game warden running toward him shouting out hiscrime, he puts away his crossbow and flees. (Zhuangzi20:8)
This is the more comprehensive perspective on perspectives Zhuangziurges on us. We experience such gestalt shifts especially when we cometo appreciate the limitations of our prior perspective now that weview things differently. We confidently judgenow that wehave made epistemic progress—our new awareness seems relativelyimproved to us after the shift. We judge our own former perspective asinferior to our present one. We do not infer that our presentperspective is final or privileged. We naturally worry that we havenot made the final correction. Sturgeon contrasts Zhuangzi’sepistemic perspective on perspectives (明míngclarity) with Xunzi’s which simply condemns all“blinkering” by perspectives. That’s the epistemicnihilist posture (philosophical quietism) we could callironic.
The limitation of the gestalt shift is clear in the above story of theRiver Earl. The North Sea Lord warns the River Earl not to confusethis insight with having reached an ultimate state of knowledge. Hecasts doubt on there being a final, ultimately smallorlarge.
The lord of He river said, “So can I consider cosmos‘large’ and the tip of a hair as‘small’?” North Sea Ruo replied, “No!Thing-kinds have unlimited ways of measuring; Time has no end;distinctions have no constancy, beginning and ending no inherent base.Because of this great knowing is viewed as a degree of distance andcloseness. …We calculate that what humans know is never asgreat as what they do not know, their temporal extent of life is lessthan time before life; for the puny to try to comprehend the immenseis an invitation to confusion and disorder. There is nothing to begained there”. (Zhuangzi 17:3)
If Zhuangzi’smíng entails having a sense of ourlimited perspective, it embodies several sound lessons. There isneither a view from nowhere nor from everywhere. My perspective is notprivileged, but neither is any ruler’s or any sage’s.Credulous, dogmatic absolutists by contrast imagine they (or Zhuangzi)can reach a mystical, privileged view that is inaccessible to ordinarybeings.
Understanding that no perspective is privileged makes skepticism lessthreatening. I do not have to abandon my present perspective to beopen-minded and curious about others. We are aware of our limitations,but not paralyzed or unable to act on our knowledge. We are still asnaturally situated as those with whom we disagree. We mutuallyappreciate why it is hard for the other to see things from our pointof view. Further improvement might come from further exchange ofperspectives. We might come to agree, you win me over or vice versa.We might not and still improve our understanding from your“glimpse of nature”. Or we might merely learn to keep ourdistance from each other. We cannot know perfectly, but we can knowbetter.
The naïve Confucian-Mohist advocates of imposing a single socialdào thus disrupts the natural process by which socialdàos evolve in real time as they seek harmony. Whilewe cannot help making our own judgments and commitments, Zhuangzi seestolerance and accommodation as values that follow from appreciatingother natural perspectives:
A monkey keeper says (to the monkeys) “I’ll give you three[rations] in the morning and four in the evening”. The monkeysseemed angry. “Ok, I’ll give you four in the morning andthree in the evening”. The monkeys were happy. So, with nosubstantive loss, he could change their anger to happiness. This is anexample of ashì judgment being dependent oncircumstances. Thus, the sage usesshì-fēi(this-not that) judgments to bring harmony and rests in a naturalbalance. We can call this walking in pairs. (Zhuangzi2:6)
We are, as it happens, capable of understanding the perspectives ofothers well enough to accommodate and cooperate with them, to borrowinsights and to reach agreements. These accommodations and agreementsare constructed socialdàos.Morality is aconcept within a socialdào as isknowing.The Chinese concept, like the Western one, enshrines a contrast withmores—the moral conception of a particular community ata particular time. The Western contrast is conceptually linked to thecore of rationalism—reason, especially pure reason. The Chineseconcept is of an imagined community of all “under heaven”.TheZhuangzi’s skepticism questions if we canextrapolate from our ordinary capacity to broaden our perspective toimagine such an “all in” normative structure. While weexperience a gestalt broadening of perspective as revealing somethingreal and significant (like waking from a dream), a final suchawakening remains a possible, but distant hope—best viewed as aregulative ideal. Like the norm of truth, it prompts epistemicmodesty.
Talk of political morality hardly breaks the surface in theZhuangzi text. His most famous statement on politicalmorality was his refusal to take up a post of honor offered byemissaries from a ruler:
Zhuangzi was fishing in the Pu when two emissaries from the ruler ofChu approached with the message “Please take charge of mykingdom”. Zhuangzi, focused on his fishing pole, did not deignto glance at them. “I’ve heard the Chu king keeps asapient tortoise, dead for 3000 years, wrapped in a robe in a baskethung high in the imperial temple. Now, would this turtle prefer beingdead and having its remains so honored to being alive and dragging itstail in the mud?” The two envoys replied, “He’dprefer being alive and dragging his tail in the mud”. Zhuangzimuttered, “Off you go! I’ll be dragging my tail in themud”. (Zhuangzi 17:11)
Modern debate about the political implications of Zhuangzi’sphilosophy, by contrast, is more than copious. The central issue iswhether Zhuangzi’s skeptical relativism applies to morality in away that would render usindifferent to Hitler’sgenocide (Van Norden 2016). This objection to Daoism is an ancientConfucian one—without the anachronistic example. If and how itapplies depends very much on how we interpret Zhuangzi’smíng.
In all cases, the interaction results in improvement in knowing asjudgedby the knower from their prior dào. Each makesthe accommodation with their own prior commitment along their way,with the addition of now understanding how the other works in itsnatural context (and other prior dào commitments). We donaturally judge that we know better after each “awakening”encounter while remaining epistemically modest. We understand theother may have had a different awakening to whatthey view asgreater knowing. The mild skepticism amounts to not knowing if thesewakings-up will converge or terminate. Typically, like the keeper andhis monkeys, we know how to find a way to co-exist withoutconflict—walking two paths at once—occasionally agreeingonly to stay out of each other’s way.
Zhuangzi’s refusal to take up the rule of a state is consistentwith tolerance, given the apparent options in his time and place. TheWarring States’ models of government were of either theConfucians or Mohists imposing their favored,singledào on everyone using the apparatus of the state—themonopoly on coercion or control of the educational curriculum.Zhuangzi’s refusal to participate is morally consistent sincehis natural options did not include a constitutional democracy with arule of law administered neutrally to allow the widest possiblechoices of naturally compatible ways of life. It is understandable ifhis modern followers, like Chen Guying, appeal to his outlook tosupport a democratic free state. While we cannot credit him withhaving worked out that politicaldào, it seems unfairto fault him for not having invented liberal political theory.
His default political outcome is a broadly evolutionary constructionof coalitions of the types listed above. TheZhuangziincludes a passage many treat as ironic that (obscurely as usual)envisions this possibility. He lists eightvirtuosities(德dé) which presumably guide the choice ofoutcomes when two natural ways of life meet.
Whendàos haven’t yet guided a territory andlanguage hasn’t yet achieved constancy, we can deem somenotional boundaries. Please state these guidelines. There is left andthere is right. There or levels and there is morality, there are partsand there are distinctions, there is competition and there is war.These are called the eight virtuosities. (Zhuangzi 2:10)
The proposal here is continuous with Sturgeon’s account ofZhuangzi’s “positive skepticism”, where the opennessto other normative perspectives may result in several outcomes.Optimistically onedàoist may adopt part or all of theperspective of the other or, as with the monkey keeper, findaccommodation that allows both to choose their own way.Pessimistically we may construct a conception of evil or disgusttowards the other and end in war. Positive skeptical relativism,otherwise, minimally impacts our moral behavior.
The understanding that others are moving on different trajectoriesdoes change either our moral direction or momentum. It alerts us toalter course to avoid interfering with theirmovement—metaphorically not to kill or punish or abuse them forpeacefully following a different road. It does not give Zhuangzi anyfurther reason not to continue to follow the best path by hislights—nowenlightened (míng) bylearning how many other ways of life go. Open-minded conversation withothers is hisway.
Zhuangzi need not abandon the tolerance that motivated him to declinerule in ancient China. His open-minded behavior in seeking better tounderstand thedàos of thieves and tyrants would helpus be sensitive to similar tendencieswe display, thegenocide of aboriginal populations, rationalizing slavery andsegregation, invading other countries, and seek to change theircultures by force and lack of respect for difference. What we learnfrom the Hitler example is to recognize how we might end up similarlyblinkered to our own fallibility.
Near the end of his epistemic reflection, Zhuangzi treats the gestaltshift that accompanies a leap to a more comprehensive perspective,knowing better, on the analogy of dreaming and waking up. Atawakening, we immediately appreciate the unreality of the dream,interpreting it as a dream. This awareness of cognitive progress isreal, but still subject to mild skepticism. We may dream of having asimilar gestalt shift and then, awakening, interpretedthatdream.
When we dream, we don’t know it as a dream, and in our dreams,judge something else as a dream. On awakening, we know it was a dream,and there could be another greater awakening in which we know agreater dream. The ignorant too think they are as enlightened as ifthey had learned it by an investigation. Gentlemen to shepherdsinherently do this! (Zhuangzi 2:12)
The skeptical difference from a “final awakening” concernswhether these paths of broadening from different starting points willconverge on a single outcome. So, is there an ultimate or finalpossible such shift in gestalt—some final state of knowing whatto do? Zhuangzi’s relativism is mildly skeptical of therelativism itself. Perhaps…
The mild skepticism of our trajectory to greater knowledge is mostfamously illustrated in the story of Zhuangzi dreaming being abutterfly and/or vice versa. It seems to suggest that the gestaltsense of liberation from error may go both ways. Perhaps oursubsequent perspective is one from which most would move to our formerperspective. Some adolescents are convertedto religionothers from it.
Once before, Zhuangzi dreamt of being a butterfly, gaily butterflyingand himself embodied in this sense of purpose! He knew nothing ofZhuangzi. Suddenly awakening, he then is rooted in Zhuangzi. Hedoesn’t know if Zhuangzi dreamt of being a butterfly or abutterfly is dreaming of being Zhuangzi—though there must be adifference. This is called “things change”.(Zhuangzi 2:14)
Finally, consider Zhuangzi’s non-ironic examples of real-lifespectacular know-how—the most beautifully and elaboratelyexpressed of which is the passage celebrating Butcher Ding.
Butcher Ding carved an ox for Lord Wen Hui; his point of contact, theway he inclined his torso, his foot position, the angle of his knee… gliding, flowing! The knife sang “whuaa” withnothing out of tune. It was as if he were dancing the Faun Ballet ordirecting an opera.
Lord Wen Hui exclaimed “Ole! Splendidly done! Can talent extendeven to this?”
Butcher Ding gestured with his knife, explaining,
What your servant follows is adào; that is what skillaims for. When I began to carve oxen, I saw nothing but an ox. Afterthree years, I had ceased seeing oxen as whole, and now my sapienceentangles so that I don’t see with my eyes, Sensory know-howends, and my sapient guidance takes over my performance. I rely onnatural guiding structures, separate out the great chunks and steerthrough empty gaps depending on the anatomy. I evade places wherecords and filaments intertwine, much less the large bones.
A good cook gets a new knife every year; he chops! Mediocre cookschange knives monthly; they hack. My knife now has 19 years on it;it’s carved several thousand oxen and the edge is as if I hadjust taken it from the sharpener.
Those joints have gaps, and the knife’s edge no thickness, toput something infinitesimally thin in an empty space?! Effortless! Iteven allows the edge wander in with ample room to play. That is why,with 19 years on it, this knife’s edge is grindstone fresh.
(Zhuangzi 3:2)
TheZhuangzi plays several variations on this theme.Sometimes the virtuoso performer catches cicadas on a sticky rod,another crafts chariot wheels; there are musicians, debaters, andthieves. The theme extends to animals, millipedes with their expertisein coordinating their limbs while maintaining a smooth flow, snakesflashing by while slithering on their stomachs. One implicit exampleis Zhuangzi’s own relation with his relativist rival and buddy,Hui Shi. Bemoaning Hui Shi’s loss while visiting hissidekick’s grave, Zhuangzi spins a tale of a virtuoso ax-throwerwho sliced specks off the nose of his crony. He lost his“knack” when his co-performer passed away(Zhuangzi 24:6).
These tales highlight several themes that illustrate the range ofsecond levelmíng attitudes that accompany learnedbehavior that skillfully follows a natural path. One is the tranquilstate that accompanies behavior that skillfully follows a naturalpath. The performances look and feel effortless. The spontaneity ofthe flow along a natural path gives performers the sense that theirbehavior is “world-guided” rather than internallycontrolled. These behaviors become second-nature as we real-ize how weare entangled with the objects—knee, knife, and knot. We movebeyond anything like sub-vocalizing instructions, deliberating, orreflecting—and yet we are concentrating intently on ourperformance. The range of his examples reminds us that such satisfyingstates of performance can be experienced in even the lowest caste andmundane of activities, including butchering and criminal skills, notmerely in fine arts and philosophy.
Another theme is the different understandings that accompany stages oflearning as one approaches this effortless flow. Finally, thisnon-ironic praise of sublime achievement in know-how is theobservation that such expertise in performance always comes with somekind of limitation—not least that each example is a differentperson with a different knack. There is no shortcut dào thatgives you a knack at every activity. Cook Ding “comes to a hardplace”; the cicada catcher warms up by trying to balance twocoins on his stick—if he is not calm enough, he will have a badnight. The wheelwright could not teach his son the art; the musiciancannot play all the notes and only reaches true perfection when hedwells in silence. The valorization of this kind of specialization inan art pulls in the opposite direction of Zhuangzi’sencouragement to broaden and enlarge our perspectives and scope ofappreciation.
This theme of the limits of virtuosity is pursued explicitly in theZhuangzi’s discussion of the necessary connectionbetweenchéng (成 completion:success) andkuī (虧 failure: deficiency). The theme of thisweak skeptical relativism plays out smoothly into the classicalChinese focus on paths as the model of normativity and the objects ofknowledge. Paths are everywhere but guide natural kinds fromparticular space-time locations and can guide a wide range of behaviortypes and normative subject matters. Each leads to subsequent choicesamongdàos (paths).
Zhuangzi does not ground his skepticism in an account of specificallyhuman epistemic deficiencies. We are one among many natural creatureswith different capacities, choosing paths from their indexed point inspace and time. The skeptical theme is not the absence of, but theplethora of, different perspectives and perspectives on perspectives.We are limited in two senses:
We will always wonder if our judgment about which is the best pathwill be our later judgment. All we can substitute for a global,eternal perspective is some local consensus.
Substantively, in the end, is there success and defect? Substantively,in the end, is there neither success nor defect? If we can call thesesuccessful, then even I am also successful. If they cannot be calledsuccessful, then neither I nor any other thing may be calledsuccessful. For this reason, sages target the illumination of slipperydoubt and for this reason, we do not use it and let things rest in theconventional. (Zhuangzi 2:6)
The weak skeptical conclusion is most strikingly expressed in theobservation that introduces the chapter with the story of CookDing.
My life is limited and know-how is unlimited. To pursue the unlimitedwith the limited is dangerous. (Zhuangzi 3:1)
For the convenience of the internet reader, citations from classicaltexts are referenced to the chapter and paragraph number inOnline Original https://ctext.org. Translations of theZhuangzi in this article are those ofits author. A public domain translation accompanies the OnlineOriginal on the site and the reader can easily access acharacter-by-character standard dictionary translation of the passagesby clicking the blue “jump to dictionary” icon. Othertranlsations of theZhuangziinclude:
The number of philosophical articles published on Zhuangzi’sphilosophy has grown exponentially in the years since the discovery ofthe Chinese philosophical tradition. The wide range of alternativeviews and approaches can only be hinted at in this bibliography.Particularly helpful are these collections of work dedicated to theunderstanding of Zhuangzi. They include (in order of publication):
[This was one of the earliest focused collections with several seminalpapers that were pivotal in initiating the explosion in philosophicalinterest in the Zhuangzi.]
[This collection reacted to trend sparked by the Mair collection.Despite the title, the writers share concerns about understandingZhuangzi in skeptical or relativist terms. Each has a differentalternative characterization.]
[This more diverse collection is inspired by the explosion ofphilosophically sophisticated treatments of the Zhuangzi.]
[This collection returns to the central themes of skepticism andrelativism.]
[This collection focuses on the discussion between Zhuangzi and HuiShi about whether one can know the fish are happy.]
[This collection, as the title indicates, focuses on the theme ofskill in theZhuangzi.]
[This massive new collection (34 contributions) ranges from texttheory to all of the above and Western comparisons.]
How to cite this entry. Preview the PDF version of this entry at theFriends of the SEP Society. Look up topics and thinkers related to this entry at the Internet Philosophy Ontology Project (InPhO). Enhanced bibliography for this entryatPhilPapers, with links to its database.
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