Laozi

Chinese philosopher

• Born: 604 b.c.e.
• Birthplace: Quren, State of Chu, China
• Died: Sixth century b.c.e.
• Place of death: Unknown

Laozi is widely recognized as the premier thinker of Daoism, the second of China’s great philosophical schools.

Early Life

The Dao De Jing (possibly sixth century b.c.e., probably compiled late third century b.c.e.; The Speculations on Metaphysics, Polity, and Morality of “the Old Philosopher, Lau-Tsze,” 1868; better known as the Dao De Jing) is the name of a slim volume from China’s classical era that forms a principal text of the Daoist school of philosophy. The title literally means “Old Master,” and the book has traditionally been ascribed to the “Old Master” himself—or, at least, it has been thought to reflect faithfully the philosophy of someone known as Laozi (low-dzih). This Laozi is, however, the most shadowy of all classical Chinese philosophers, and nothing at all can be said with any certainty about him.

The earliest attempt to write a biography of Laozi was made in the first century b.c.e. by the great historian Sima Qian (Ssu-ma Ch’ien; c. 145-c. 86 b.c.e.), but even at that early date the historian was only able to assemble a few scraps of information concerning Laozi, many of which are mutually contradictory. Sima Qian attempted to merge the stories of at least three different individuals into his biography of Laozi, since he was uncertain which one was “the real Laozi,” and in the end the various stories proved impossible to reconcile. As Sima Qian concluded, “Laozi was a reclusive gentleman,” and it is perhaps fitting that he remain forever elusive.

Among the few facts that are alleged about Laozi are that his family name was Li, his given name Erh, and his “style” Dan. He was supposedly born in the southern state of Chu; indeed, Laozi’s thought does typify the lush, mystical, romantic, and sometimes erotic southern side of ancient Chinese culture that contrasts so starkly with the stern moralism of northern Confucianism.

Sima Qian says that Laozi served as Historian of the Archives in the court of the Zhou Dynasty (Chou; 1066-256 b.c.e.) and that Confucius (Kong Qiu; 551-479 b.c.e.) personally sought instruction from him in the rites. At age 160, or perhaps 200, disappointed with the decline of civilization in China, Laozi departed. The Keeper of the Xiangu Pass detained him on his way out and required him to commit his wisdom to writing in the book that came to be known as the Dao De Jing, before permitting him to continue his westward journey. According to a later legend, Laozi subsequently went to India, where his teachings gave birth to Buddhism.

None of this information is historically reliable, however, and many modern scholars doubt that Laozi is a historical figure at all. It seems more likely that there were several “old masters” in ancient China who taught ideas similar to those of the Dao De Jing than that no such man ever existed at all. In either case, however, it ceases to be meaningful to say that Laozi wrote the book that is sometimes called by his name.

The best evidence indicates that the Dao De Jing was compiled sometime during the fourth or third century b.c.e., probably incorporating earlier fragments, and that it did not settle into its present form until the middle of the second century b.c.e. It may be that it is largely the product of one hand, but it can also be plausibly viewed as a jumble of anonymous Daoist sayings assembled by an editor or editors during this period.

Life’s Work

The Dao De Jing has been translated into English more often than any book except the Bible, and in China hundreds of commentaries have been written on it. The explanation for all this attention is that, aside from the great intrinsic appeal of the work, it is a very cryptic book that defies definitive interpretation. Each reader finds something different in the Dao De Jing, and, despite deceptively simple grammar and vocabulary, it is often possible to argue at great length even about the meaning of individual sentences.

For example, the famous opening line of the Dao De Jing could read, in English, “Any way that you can speak about is not The Constant Way.” Alternatively, it could also read: “The way that can be treated as The Way is not an ordinary way,” or, “The way that can be treated as The Way is an inconstant way.” Multiply this kind of ambiguity by the more than five thousand Chinese characters in the book, and it becomes easy to understand why so many different translations of the Dao De Jing are possible.

The work is divided into two sections and eighty-one brief chapters; more than half of it is written in rhyme, and it is suffused throughout with a distinct poetic atmosphere. There appears to be no particular order to the chapters, and even individual paragraphs may be unrelated to their context, thus reinforcing the impression of the Dao De Jing as an anthology of Daoist maxims rather than a systematic treatise.

Interpretation of the Dao De Jing must hinge, in part, on the date one chooses to assign for its composition. Its pointed ridicule of Confucian sanctimoniousness, for example, is puzzling if the legend is true that Laozi was older than Confucius, but would make sense if it was really compiled in the post-Confucian period. At least one scholar claims that the Dao De Jing was not compiled until the late third century b.c.e.; he bases his argument on signs of opposition he sees in it to the Legalist school that was then developing.

More critical is the Dao De Jing’s position within the chronology of the Daoist movement itself. Tradition gives the Dao De Jing pride of place as the oldest Daoist work, but there are grounds for speculation of greater age for the other great Daoist text, the Zhuangzi (traditionally c. 300 b.c.e., compiled c. 285-160 b.c.e.; The Divine Classic of Nan-hua, 1881; also known as The Complete Works of Chuang Tzu, 1968; commonly known as Zhuangzi, 1991). Not knowing which book was written first makes it difficult to determine which book influenced which and seriously cripples scholars’ ability to analyze the development of Daoism.

The principal philosophical difference between the Dao De Jing and the Zhuangzi is that the former advocates understanding the laws of change in the universe so as to conform to them and thereby harness them to work for one’s benefit; Zhuangzi, on the other hand, contends that a true understanding of the laws of change reveals all transformations to be equally valid and all differences to be ultimately relative. Hence the wise man does not try to manipulate the Dao (pronounced “dow”), but simply accepts what it brings.

The Dao is the central concept of all Daoist philosophy. The basic meaning of the word is “road” or “way,” and by extension it came to refer to “the way” of doing various things. Philosophers of all Chinese schools of thought (even the Confucians) used this word and considered it to be important, but only the Daoists treated it as a universal absolute. For Confucians, the Dao is the moral Way of proper human behavior; to a Daoist, it is an amoral principle of nature.

The Dao is the constant law (or laws, since the Chinese language has no plurals) that governs the otherwise incessant change of the material universe. It is thus the one permanent, immutable thing in existence, the hub at the center of the wheel of life. Since the Dao is absolute, however, it is impossible to break it down for analysis. The mere act of giving it a name, such as Dao, is misleading, because it implies that the Dao is a thing that can be critically examined and labeled. The Dao actually transcends all humanly imposed conceptual models.

Because the Dao cannot be logically analyzed or described in words, it therefore can only be perceived holistically through intuition. This gives the Dao De Jing its mystic tone and helps explain the frustrating statement in chapter 56 that “he who knows does not speak; he who speaks does not know.” Ultimate truth is beyond the capacity of speech to convey. For this reason, one third century c.e. wag remarked that Confucius actually understood the Dao better than Laozi, since Confucius was wise enough to keep silent about the subject.

Laozi’s favorite theme is the disparity between intention and result. “Reversal is the action of the Dao,” he wrote (chapter 40). Striving to make oneself strong eventually exhausts and weakens a man; striving for wealth leads to poverty in the long run. The wise man instead conforms to the Dao and aligns himself with the weak, the humble, and the poor.

This philosophy was in large part a reaction to the highly competitive environment of the Warring States Period in Chinese history (475-221 b.c.e.), when conflict was continuous and life itself uncertain. Amid such surroundings, Dao De Jing taught that survival came through not competing. The solution to the problem of how to preserve life and happiness was simply to be content.

The Dao De Jing contains wisdom for all people, but much of the book is directed in particular toward the ruler. It teaches a kind of laissez-faire approach to government: The state will function best if left to run itself naturally, and strenuous efforts on the part of the ruler can only cause greater confusion and disorder. The more the ruler acts, the more work he creates for himself, and the more impossible it becomes to do everything that is necessary. Far better to do nothing. The Dao De Jing calls this form of government wuwei, or “nonaction.”

As a concrete application of this principle, the Dao De Jing criticizes attempts to improve the state through moral codes or laws. The very existence of laws produces lawbreakers, and moral codes result in pretense, competition, and the very kinds of immorality they were intended to discourage. Far better, says Laozi, to return to the childlike condition of original innocence that prevailed before the awakening of desires.

Significance

Laozi the man is a will-o’-the-wisp—an insubstantial legend. Even a legend, however, can have important consequences. During the common era, religious Daoism emerged under Buddhist influence out of earlier immortality cults. This Daoist religion adopted very little of the philosophical content of the Dao De Jing, but its adherents came to venerate Laozi himself as a god.

By the second century c.e., Laozi was being worshipped as a progenitor of the universe, an incarnation of the Dao itself. The deified Laozi became one of the most important members of the native Chinese religious pantheon, and the eighty-one earthly manifestations he was ultimately said to have taken included the Buddha (Siddhārtha Gautama; c. 566-c. 486 b.c.e.) and Mani (Manes; c. 216-276 c.e.), the Persian founder of Manichaeanism.

The religious Daoist canon includes more than fourteen hundred separate titles, but the Dao De Jing—often badly misunderstood, to be sure—ranks at the top. Even for Chinese who remained skeptical about this native religious movement, the Dao De Jing continued to be regarded as an outstanding guide for living and a delightful work of literature.

The Dao De Jing and Zhuangzi represent the native Chinese tradition of true metaphysical speculation (as opposed to the political and social philosophy of Confucius and others) and as such have contributed immensely to the subsequent development of Chinese thought. Chan Buddhism (Japanese Zen), for example, owes much to Daoist influence. Daoist philosophy has always been the natural consolation of the Chinese gentleman in retirement or disgrace. The Dao De Jing, one of the most profound and baffling books ever written, is a principal text in China’s perennial “other” school of thought: the playful, mystical, Daoist alternative to staid and conventional Confucianism.

Bibliography

Kohn, Livia, ed. The Daoism Handbook. New York: E. J. Brill, 2000. An excellent introduction, summarizing virtually every aspect of Daoism.

Kohn, Livia, and Harold D. Roth, eds. Daoist Identity: History, Lineage, and Ritual. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 2002. A collection of essays exploring the many ways in which Daoism has functioned as a religion.

Laozi. Tao te Ching. Translated by Stephen Mitchell. New York: HarperCollins, 1988. An excellent translation.

Oldstone-Moore, Jennifer. Taoism. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. A concise introduction to the religious and cultural history of Daoism.

Yu, David C. History of Chinese Daoism. Lanham, Md.: University Press of America, 2000. Discusses the relationships between Daoism and other Chinese religions, Daoism and the state, and Daoism’s position in relation to social class.

Zhuangzi. Zhuangzi. Translated by Burton Watson. Reprint. New York: Columbia University Press, 2003. A classic translation of Daoism’s second most important text.