When confronted with adversity, people react in accordance with their ideas. Sound, consistent ideas enable individuals to solve problems quickly and regain the lost ground. In contrast, confusion and contradictions are bound to make things worse.
Lao-Tzu (6th century BC), a contemporary of Confucius, is credited with having initiated the body of thought that we call Taoism. His insights were complemented by Yang-Tzu (4th century BC) and Chuang-Tzu (3rd century BC)
In creating Taoism, Lao-Tzu’s purpose was hundred percent practical. He wanted to solve large problems he was facing and regain lost ground in terms of serenity and happiness.
According to tradition, Lao-Tzu lived in the state of Chu, in today’s Henan province in China, and was employed for years as keeper of archives at the Zhou royal court in Luoyang.
One day, Lao-Tzu decided that he had had enough of his job and his lifestyle. Leaving everything behind, he left and never returned. The last thing they saw of him is that he jumped on a water buffalo, and riding the buffalo, he went away.
Lao-Tzu devoted the next years to develop his ideas, and his disciples compiled them into the Tao Te Ching. Taoism is the result of Lao-Tzu’s reflections about how to live one’s life best despite obstacles, threats and social decay.
Lao-Tzu versus Confucius
We do not know for sure if Lao-Tzu ever met Confucius in person. A Chinese historian from the 1st century BC maintains that the two men met once, and that Lao-Tzu explained his philosophy to Confucius, but it was all to no avail. Confucius listened attentively, but could not understand Taoism.
Whether the anecdote is true or not, it drives home a crucial truth, namely, that Taoist principles are far from self-evident. If we compare Lao-Tzu’s ideas with those of Confucius, we can see that they are diametrically opposed on almost all subjects.
One would have expected Lao-Tzu’s ideas to resemble those of Confucius. Why? Because both men had a background in public administration and their employment must have entailed adherence to traditional principles.
What philosophical ideas can one expect from someone like Lao-Tzu, someone who has worked for years as keeper of the archives in the royal court? I would have expected a mishmash of ritualistic piety and deep loyalty to established hierarchies.
Against all expectations, Lao-Tzu created a philosophy that favours respect for nature, lateral thinking, and self-reliance. In contrast to blind memorisation, Taoism calls for learning from observation, alignment with nature, and trial and error.
Metaphors in the Tao Te Ching
While Confucius wrote hundreds of moral precepts (respect your ancestors, be honest, etc.), Lao-Tzu conveyed his insights through paradoxes. He seldom told his disciples to “do this” or “do not do that.” Instead, he used metaphors that, at first sight, seem to make no sense.
For instance, Chapter 58 of the Tao Te Ching enunciates the principle that “good fortune hides behind misfortune.” Taoists can stay calm in the face of adversity because they are acutely conscious of the paradoxes of life. If something bad happens to them, they will immediately start to look for a silver lining.
Many chapters of the Tao Te Ching contain paradoxes that mirror Lao-Tzu’s personal choices. He had a good job at the royal court, but one day, he decided to leave everything behind and go away. He had been witnessing for years the dire results of imposed policies, until one day, he started to preach Wu Wei or non-action.
While Confucius devoted himself to telling people to “do this” and “do not do that,” Lao-Tzu taught them to look behind the obvious and look at the complete picture.
For example, chapter 11 of the Tao Te Ching points out that what makes a cup useful is the emptiness in its middle. The cup’s empty space is what enables us to fill it with water to drink.
Similarly, it is by emptying our mind (e.g., by discarding prejudice) that we free up space for creativity. If we want to find the enlightened path, we must first cut off the weeds that prevent us from seeing it.
Yang-Tzu and the non-action principle
Yang-Tzu lived about one hundred and fifty years later than Lao-Tzu. The little we know about his life comes from stories, anecdotes and sayings recorded by Taoists chroniclers.
I attribute to the belligerent environment of the 4th century BC in China the fact that Yang-Tzu gave Lao-Tzu’s philosophy a markedly individualistic and pacifistic tone. In contrast to the ideas of Confucius, Yang-Tzu did not regard self-sacrifice as a virtue.
Yang-Tzu’s philosophical contributions revolve around self-reliance and self-preservation, which he considered superior to altruism. If we follow Yang-Tzu’s individualist logic, we could view the pursuit of fame as a form of altruism because it gives great importance to other people’s opinion.
According to tradition, Yang-Tzu had once stated that he would not be willing to sacrifice one hair of his to save the world. The metaphor is somewhat flawed because a hair could obviously not save anyone, let alone the whole world.
Taoists regard Yang-Tzu’s stance as the ultimate form of Wu Wei or non-action. Let other people solve their own problems. Do not take disproportionate risks. Do not sacrifice something valuable for achieving a minor goal.
Yang-Tzu took up Lao-Tzu’s distrust of social conventions and vastly magnified it. He considered goals such as longevity and wealth as counterproductive because they could undermine the serenity of their beneficiaries.
Chuang-Tzu and the inconspicuous lifestyle
Chuang-Tzu (3rd century BC) came from the state of Song, that is, from modern Henan, and is believed to have worked for a while as a public official in some minor role. He emphasised the harmony of nature and rejected arbitrary impositions and artificiality.
Taoists love to recount stories about Chuang-Tzu rejecting offers for high positions, indicating that he preferred to rejoice in the mud like a lowly, but free animal, instead of being paid a high salary for a job that might eventually end up badly.
Chuang-Tzu regarded a calm, inconspicuous lifestyle as the best prescription for happiness. He reused Lao-Tzu’s metaphor of the crooked tree that lives very long unmolested because it does not attract the attention of woodcutters.
Until the nineteenth century, Taoism was almost unknown in Western countries. I can only wonder if it could have helped people make better decisions and steer away from catastrophic problems.
For example, would Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821) have made the mistake of invading Russia if he had been familiar with Lao-Tzu’s warning against overextending ourselves?
Would Charles I of England (1600-1649) have softened his policies, instead of trying to rule without Parliament? If he had been familiar with Chuang-Tzu’s ideas, he might have avoided losing the English Civil War and being executed.
Thankfully, we do have access to Taoist wisdom and we do not need to repeat the mistakes made by Napoleon and Charles I. Nowadays, there is no reason for anyone to ignore the great insights gained by Lao-Tzu, Yang-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu.
If you are interested in putting rational ideas into practice, I recommend my book “Sequentiality: The Amazing Power of Finding the Right Sequence of Steps.”