I would love to believe that, when the circumstances call for creative solutions, those will appear; and that, when the issues grow threatening, countermeasures will be developed; and that every problem will be followed by repeated attempts at sorting it out, until one eventually succeeds.
Unfortunately, this is not always the case in history. It often happens that people will continue to make the same mistakes for hundreds of years, or continue to endorse beliefs that don’t match reality, even in the face of abundant proof of the danger and falsehood of such beliefs.
If we look at the facts of history, we must conclude that, in every solution to profound problems, there is some element of luck or miraculous coincidence. In every great philosophy and religion, there are elements of heroism and discernment that go far beyond normal expectations.
Taoism is not an exception to this general observation. In its origins, there was an acute need for a solid philosophy, but the existence of Lao-Tzu and his mentality can only be attributed to a lucky combination of circumstances.
The historical context
In the 6th century BC, China was enmeshed in constant wars and the Zhou dynasty could have gone down into history as an insignificant family of rulers, indistinct in every way from the other ruling dynasties, truly pedestrian and unremarkable.
Lao-Tzu, allegedly a civil servant working for the Zhou, did what nobody had expected from him, namely, quit his job, said goodbye to the privileges of royal employment, and went away to live in the countryside and develop a brand-new philosophy.
Chapter 8 of the Tao Te Ching provides the crucial teaching from Lao-Tzu, the pillar of his philosophy. It says that wisdom, the path to happiness, consists of imitating the traits of water. It means becoming flexible, beneficial to everyone, and flowing smoothly from one place to the next.
In this way, Lao-Tzu solved all the problems of his time. No more wars, no more famines, no more sickness will afflict men and women that choose to imitate water as a way of life. They will automatically steer away from trouble, lead satisfactory lives, and enjoy their days to the maximum.
Yang-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, in the 4th and 3rd centuries BC, did nothing but bring Lao-Tzu’s ideas to fruition by illustrating them with stories, paradoxes and ancillary recommendations. It is the usual path of development for any new philosophy. First, there is a great innovator, and then, his disciples fill the gaps.
Unsurprisingly, the development of Taoism was not exempt from manipulation and misappropriation. While Chuang-Tzu was busy writing his paradoxical stories, some of his peers attempted to turn Taoism into a strict religious practice made of ceremonies and rituals.
During the Han dynasty (206-220 BC), Taoism was turned into a magical doctrine consisting of rituals that allegedly help their practitioners attain happiness, prosperity and longevity. I can report that the experiment failed and Taoism quickly went back to its original intent, which has nothing to do with magic.
In the Middle Ages, during the Tang dynasty (618-907) and the Song dynasty (960-1279), the magical elements returned in full thrust, with some emperors claiming that they were direct descendants from Lao-Tzu and that this aspect gave legitimacy to their rule.
I can only assume that, upon hearing about those spurious claims, Lao-Tzu must have turned in his grave, disgusted. His insights call precisely for the opposite behaviour. In the Tao Te Ching, he speaks in favour of self-reliance and truthfulness in all circumstances, not in favour of blind conformity and empty rituals.
Confucius and Mencius
To make things worse, during the Ming and Qing dynasties (1368-1912), Taoism was conveyed in a distorted manner that combined national festivities, religious anecdotes, martial arts, and other elements foreign to the insights gained by Lao-Tzu.
What’s the main lesson to be drawn from the historical drifts suffered by Taoism? That we should go to the sources and see what Lao-Tzu, Yang-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu actually wrote, and study their sayings, stories and examples. If we fail to do that, it is almost guaranteed that we will get the wrong picture.
In contrast to the cacophony of historical Taoism, the Tao Te Ching presents consistent, integrated principles. It speaks in favour of self-sufficiency and self-knowledge, especially in its chapter 33, which contrasts with the rituals and ceremonies of those who tried to turn Taoism into a pseudo-religion.
What about its interactions with other Chinese philosophers such as Confucius (551-479 BC) and Mencius (371-289 BC)? I would define the philosophical interactions as inexistent due to the different starting points of those philosophies. Their main goal is to tell people what to do, which is anathema to Taoism, for which the primary goal is to align our actions with the Tao.
Neither Confucius nor Mencius seemed to have grasped Wu Wei, the Taoist non-action principle. They wrote down dozens of moral prescriptions for every possible situation, but failed to grasp that, very often, it is better to steer away from problems, leaving foolish people to suffer the consequences of their acts.
Chapter 78 of the Tao Te Ching predicts the victory of soft, yielding strategies over harsh impositions. Lao-Tzu’s insights are drawn from experience, not from fantasy. He had observed at the Zhou royal court that arrogant people make enemies and eventually will cause their own demise. His call for soft, gentle and mild manners is a recipe for self-preservation, and doesn’t entail self-sacrifice.
Confucius and Mencius exerted a vast influence on Chinese history, but at the expense of individual initiative. They supply detailed guidelines, but those need to be memorised, rehearsed, and brought forward at the right moment. They led to cohesion in society and doctrine, but at the expense of personal choices.
A hands-on approach
Taoism, as presented in the Tao Te Ching, demands little in terms of social cohesion and doctrinal strictness. It emphasises the personal alignment with the Tao, that is, the alignment with natural law, and expects such alignment to proceed smoothly.
Chapter 63 of the Tao Te Ching describes wisdom as acting without doing and working without effort. I find it hard to find such a low level of friction in the works of Confucius, Mencius and other Chinese thinkers. Their view of history is determined by doctrinal pressure, not by individual search for the truth.
In modern times, Taoism has gained appreciation amongst a wide array of entrepreneurs, especially those that employ their skills to innovate, trade, design and invest. In the advice given by Lao-Tzu, they have found an endorsement of their lifestyle.
Chapter 81 of the Tao Te Ching calls for nourishing instead of dominating the world. It encourages us to put our ideas into practice instead of engaging in endless debates. This hands-on approach is especially appealing to entrepreneurs and all those who possess an entrepreneurial mentality.
Chinese history has proven to be a vast, complex laboratory of philosophical ideas, in which Taoism has been rewritten and redefined at regular intervals, only to be returned to its pristine integrity a few generations later.
Chapter 37 of the Tao Te Ching reaffirms the principle of getting things done smoothly and with minimum effort. In this respect, we should see the evolution of Taoist ideas in Chinese history as a process of cross fertilization. New combinations or varieties of plants have been developed and tested, but after a while, only the most adaptable have survived and thrived.
If you are interested in putting effective insights into practice, I recommend my book “The 10 Principles of Rational Living.”