If I had to explain Taoism in a minute, I would emphasize the principle of non-action, that is, the paradox that, on many occasions, doing nothing is better than doing something. For a person schooled in Western thinking, the Taoist paradox is hard to accept. It requires careful study and extended reflection.
Lao-Tzu (sixth century BC) observed first-hand that poverty and abuse seem to derive naturally from excessive regulations. When people are not allowed to work productively, they won’t produce much wealth. When ideas are not allowed to spread, it will become hard to gain knowledge and make good choices.
The problem with the Taoist principles is their invisibility. If we do not make the effort to grasp Lao-Tzu’s body of thought, many aspects of reality will remain incomprehensible.
I often compare Taoist principles to economic principles in terms of their invisibility. Economically illiterate people cannot see beyond the obvious. Their inability to connect cause and effect, past and present, will prevent them from making good choices for the future.
Lao-Tzu was not exaggerating when, in the 30th Chapter of the Tao Te Ching, noted that violence, even when it is exerted for allegedly good purposes, will only generate more violence. In the modern interpretation, the term “violence” means all sorts of aggression, verbal or physical, and indirect threats.
The Taoist principle of non-action
The Taoist principle of non-action means refraining from all evil actions, that is, from aggressing against other individuals, directly or indirectly. Of course, this does not mean refraining from performing useful, productive work, making friends and leading a good life.
I recommend devoting sufficient time to grasping the Taoist insight of non-action, which is far more important than lighting candles, sitting on the floor to meditate, or wearing clothes that resemble those in old martial arts movies.
Lao-Tzu presented the Taoist ideals in poetic, metaphorical, colourful language. As a result, some parts of the Tao Te Ching are rather cryptic, especially when they refer to the passage of seasons and to human interactions with nature.
Modern students often find Lao-Tzu’s poetic style daunting, confusing and perplexing. Why did he not convey his thoughts in a straightforward manner? What is the point of his anecdotes and comparisons? Could he not just speak in simple words?
No, he could not because of the environment he was in. His manner of speech was similar to other ancient philosophers. If you read about Zarathustra, Buddha or even Jesus Christ, you’ll find a great deal of metaphors, stories and cryptic epigrams.
Lao-Tzu and other ancient philosophers found it useful to convey their message indirectly and poetically rather than give univocal ethical commands. I personally love the wide margin of interpretation allowed by the Tao Te Ching. We can apply it to any situation and use its wisdom to address any problem.
The Tao Te Ching and the benefits of Taoism
Chapter 54th of the Tao Te Ching promises immense rewards to those who embrace Taoism. It tells us that, if we embrace a Taoist lifestyle, we will become a better version of ourselves. It also predicts that, when people respect Taoist principles, they’ll flourish and achieve happiness.
How credible are Lao-Tzu’s promises of prosperity, felicity, and harmony? Chapter 54th of the Tao Te Ching tells us to find the proof inside ourselves, but that’s a rather weak argument. I understand that people want to see for themselves the benefits of Taoism before considering adopting its principles.
Where can we see the benefits of practising Taoism? Like in the case of economics, we can only see its workings after we have sharpened our intellect.
An economically illiterate person cannot grasp the meaning of rising interest rates, fewer homes being built, inflation, mass unemployment, and so forth. Similarly, people unfamiliar with Taoism cannot grasp the connection between overbearing, evil abuse and poverty, social decay, alcoholism or other additions.
The purpose of studying the Tao Te Ching and other Taoist works is to improve our perception of the world and learn how to make better decisions. Taoism is, first and foremost, a type of mentality or attitude. It shows more in our behaviour than in our clothes, hairdo, food preferences, or exercise habits.
Lao-Tzu mentions repeatedly “the Tao” as the principle that governs the universe, but it is a principle that each person must voluntarily recognize and respect, not an overwhelming force that we must adore, venerate and pay fealty to.
No concept in Western philosophy corresponds precisely to the Tao, as presented in the Tao Te Ching. The book “Ethics” by Baruch Spinoza (1632-1677) describes God as an immanent and necessary force, as the ultimate driver behind every entity, event or consequence, but misses the ethical aspects of the Tao.
Taoist principles and Taoist stories
Lao-Tzu encourages us to study the Tao, align our thoughts with it, and behave accordingly. Taoism demands us to respect other people and their property, abstain from evil, and lead a peaceful and harmonious life.
I miss those elements in the conception of God presented by Spinoza. The same can be said about the “Theodicy” argument put forward by Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz (1646-1716), where our world is presented as the best possible world because there is no way that God could have decided otherwise.
Lao-Tzu outlined all the principles of Taoism in the Tao Te Ching, but his formulations are extremely brief. Subsequently, Yang-Tzu (fourth century BC) and Chuang-Tzu (third century) applied the Taoist ideals to individual and social behaviour.
The Taoist body of thought is a mixture of deep philosophy and puzzling anecdotes. The latter can be interpreted in many different ways, some of them clashing with Lao-Tzu’s ideals. I caution students about giving too much weight to those puzzles and their interpretations.
Take for instance the story about the butterfly dream, which is attributed to Chuang-Tzu. The story goes like this: Once I dreamed that I was a butterfly. My dream was so vivid that, when I woke up, I was not sure if I was a man dreaming that he is a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming that it is a man.”
I recommend students of Taoism to categorize those stories as delightful entertainment, which can be enjoyed for a while, but does not deserve much of our time and energy. Taoism has profound wisdom to offer, and we should concentrate on Lao-Tzu’s practical advice rather than stories about butterflies.
If you are interested in applying effective principles to real-life problems in all sorts of situations, I recommend my book “The Philosophy of Builders.”