ESAY

Daode Jing

This essay was originally written as an undergraduate assignment for an English-taught elective course in Western philosophy. It reflects my personal reading and interpretation of the Daodejing at the time. The English has since been polished with the assistance of AI for grammar, clarity, style, and organization; the ideas and personal reflections remain my own.

The Daodejing, also known as the Tao Te Ching, is traditionally attributed to Laozi, who is traditionally dated to around 500 BCE. However, both the date of composition and the identity of its author remain uncertain. Many scholars understand the text as a composite work that took shape over several centuries. Nevertheless, it has had a profound influence throughout the world. A passage from Chapter 47 was adapted into “The Inner Light,” a Beatles song written by George Harrison. Although the song is a Beatles pop recording, its instrumental arrangement draws heavily on Indian classical music. To gain a better understanding of Laozi’s ideas, I read both the Chinese text and the English translation provided by my instructor. The Mawangdui silk manuscripts, discovered in a tomb sealed in 168 BCE, are among the earliest surviving versions of the text. In these manuscripts, the section traditionally known as the Dejing appears before the Daojing, in contrast to the received version. In the received text, Chapters 1–37 are generally called the Daojing, while Chapters 38–81 are called the Dejing. This division is only approximate, however, since both sections contain discussions of Dao, De, ethics, politics, and ways of living. Chapter 38, which opens the Dejing, is therefore one of the most important chapters for understanding Laozi’s criticism of conventional morality. It describes a gradual decline: when Dao is lost, De appears; when De is lost, benevolence appears; when benevolence is lost, righteousness appears; and when righteousness is lost, ritual propriety appears. The chapter also distinguishes between higher and lower forms of De. Higher De does not consciously perform itself as virtue, whereas lower De acts with deliberate intention. At first, I felt uncomfortable with this argument because it seemed to criticize Confucianism. From my point of view, Confucianism continues to have a significant influence on Chinese culture, including on me. When I was too young to develop strong critical-thinking skills, I read a book that advocated Confucianism, and it left a lasting influence on me—one that I now sometimes regard as unhelpful. It is tempting to interpret Chapter 38 as a direct attack on Confucianism, since ritual propriety, or li, is an important part of Confucian thought. However, ritual propriety is not identical to Confucianism as a whole. Laozi may be criticizing the reliance on external moral forms when people have already lost a more spontaneous alignment with Dao. Through my own lens, I initially understood the contrast through an analogy. A child’s kindness can seem beautiful because it is not performed for recognition, while behavior shaped by excessive self-consciousness may appear less genuine. This analogy is my own, however, and should not be taken as the literal argument of Chapter 38. Laozi’s ideal may be closer to a universal way of living, but it can also seem romantic and idealistic. We may admire childlike openness, but no one can remain a child forever. Like Peter Pan in Neverland, the fantasy of living permanently outside ordinary social structures may be appealing, but it is not realistic. In an imperfect society, we need rules, institutions, and conscious intentions to coordinate our lives. At the same time, wu-wei, usually translated as “non-action” or “effortless action,” should not be understood as literal passivity. It may refer to acting without force, artificiality, or unnecessary interference. For this reason, I would not simply conclude that “non-action” will eventually lead to bankruptcy. Personally, I think Laozi’s way of living can be especially valuable when people are pursuing what Maslow would describe as higher-level needs. This is a modern psychological framework, of course, rather than one found in ancient Daoism. I would like to think of Daoism and Confucianism as yin and yang: different and sometimes in tension, but also capable of complementing one another. As Chapter 42 puts it, “The ten thousand things carry yin and embrace yang; through blending their vital energies, they achieve harmony.” In a similar way, Daoism and Confucianism might guide us together toward a better life.