Lao-Tzu didn’t come up with the yin and yang concepts and he would have been appalled at seeing yin-and-yang logos on a martial arts attire. Yang-Tzu would have dismissed the logo as an oversimplification, and Chuang-Tzu would have written a story about people who mistake a logo for deep philosophy.
Ancient Taoism provides important insights about balance, personal and societal, but views balance as the natural outcome of doing the right thing, not as a primary ethical command. It’s true that Taoist practitioners lead a harmonious life, but this does not mean symmetry, equilibrium or proportionality.
Chapter 9 of the Tao Te Ching enunciates the principle of balance in Taoism, but doesn’t mention any symmetrical forces driving the universe. In fact, when the Tao Te Ching speaks of balance, it mostly refers to human ethics and human emotions.
Lao-Tzu’s conception of balance is far removed from a Yin and Yang cosmical bipolarity. The dichotomy used by today’s gurus doesn’t appear in ancient Taoist writings; and the related rituals and exercises, such as balanced breathing, are relatively modern inventions.
Ancient Taoist writings mention winter and summer, cold and warmth, slow and fast, hostility and friendship, wealth and poverty, and many other opposing concepts, but those concepts are employed as dynamic illustrations of the Tao, not as moral commands.
A fact of life
What does Chapter 9 of Tao Te Ching say about balance? It warns readers against doing too much, wanting too much, and accumulating too much. It regards excess as counterproductive and wasteful, and occasionally as lethal.
Lao-Tzu was not formulating a moral commandment such as “You shall maintain balance in all areas of life.” No, he was simply stating a fact of life. Our time and energy are limited. If we want to achieve good results overall, we should allocate our resources wisely.
For Taoists, overkill is more silly than it is evil. It shows a fundamental lack of wisdom in how to live effectively. Yin and Yang add colour to the original Lao-Tzu’s insight, but they also distort it beyond recognition.
To be clear, the Tao Te Ching never says or implies that life is driven by symmetrical dichotomies. It acknowledges that A and Z qualities exist, but doesn’t affirm that, in nature, fifty per cent is driven by A, and the remaining fifty per cent, by B.
The Yin and Yang logo is perfectly symmetric, balanced and proportionate, but life is not like that. In fact, the Yin and Yang logo does not even give an approximate representation of life. I want to underline this idea because it conflicts with what many people expect from Taoism.
I have now set the stage for analysing the three key insights in Chapter 9 of the Tao Te Ching: the metaphor of the knife, the warning against obsessive pursuits, and the warning against haughtiness. Let us address them one by one.
Metaphor of the sharpened knife
“If you sharpen your knife too much, you will damage the blade,” observes Lao-Tzu. There is an implicit acceptance of the need to sharpen one’s knife from time to time. The question is how often and how long we should do it.
The Yin and Yang concepts can barely apply in this case. It’s hard to argue that the Tao requires utensils, especially kitchen knives, to be sharpened precisely twice a year, or at any other time interval.
If a knife’s blade is insufficiently sharp, should we blame it on the Yin or on the Yang? And if we sharpen it excessively to the extent that it breaks, who is to blame? Did we employ too much cold or too much heat?
To make things even more complicated, households possess more than one knife. Does the Tao require us to keep all knives equally sharp? Or only those that we use most frequently? Yin and Yang cannot answer this question, I fear, even if we light a bunch of candles and meditate for a week.
A conclusion emerges uncontested: there is no universal Yin and Yang standard in this case, and by extension, there are also no Yin and Yang standards applicable to other cases; the whole intellectual construction of universal balance is shaky at best.
Lao-Tzu’s metaphor of the knife conveys a sensible insight: a warning against overkill, waste and compulsive behaviour. It is not calling for perfect balance in knife sharpening or in any other area of life.
An inconspicuous lifestyle
In Chapter 9 of the Tao Te Ching, Lao-Tzu also formulated strong warnings against hoarding gold at home and behaving arrogantly. It predicts that the gold will be stolen and that pride will cause its own demise if it becomes excessive.
Gold in large quantities at home will be stolen, argues Lao-Tzu, because, at a certain point, it becomes impossible to exert effective custody. I must underline that Lao-Tzu uses the word “impossible,” not just “difficult” or “challenging.”
No matter how much we spend on security, the incentive for thieves grows exponentially. The accumulation of a large gold amount at home will prompt criminals to go to great lengths to break in and run away with the booty.
Yin and Yang play no role in Lao-Tzu’s warning. I wouldn’t bother to speculate about the correct amount of gold to keep at home, so that it is not too much but also not too little. Nor will I devote time to theorising about gold substitutes such as silver, palladium, or canned sardines.
Lao-Tzu’s warning against keeping too much gold at home is actually a warning against conspicuous wealth. Taoism does not have anything against prosperity and wealth, but regards it as dangerous to show off. I could not agree more.
I must point out that Lao-Tzu did not seem to have anything against keeping a large amount of gold elsewhere, for example buried in the woods, where nobody can suspect its existence or guess its location.
The Tao’s moral commandment refers to inconspicuousness, not to poverty. The elicitation of envy is against natural law: it is a source of unnecessary trouble that only fools would put in motion, unaware of the consequences.
In this respect, Lao-Tzu, Yang-Tzu, and Chuang-Tzu should not be equated to Christian thinkers such as Benedict of Nursia (480-547). His “Regula Monachorum” categorizes poverty as a virtue and as a moral obligation for Christian monks.
Benedict was advocating for real poverty, not for leading an inconspicuous, modest lifestyle as a self-protection measure. In his writings, he does not have a problem with people donating large sums of gold to a monastery, but he opposes using wealth for enjoyment or pleasure.
Honours and decorations
Lao-Tzu’s observation about haughtiness follows a slightly different logic, one that should not be fully commingled with preventing envy and protecting oneself from criminals. I regret that few commentators bother to elucidate the difference.
Chapter 9 of the Tao Te Ching predicts that excessive pride and honours lead to demise. The warning encompasses internal attitudes such as haughtiness and arrogance, and also external honours, distinctions, decorations, and awards.
Yang-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu make similar predictions in their writings. The tone of their warnings is grave and definitive. It’s a prediction of assured demise, not of potential demise. If one behaves arrogantly, it is only a matter of time until the negative consequences ensue.
The rationale for warning against external honours, awards, distinctions, and decorations, is the same as the rationale for warning against keeping large amounts of gold at home. We do not want to elicit envy and attract the attention of criminals.
It is flattering to be awarded a prize in front of the television cameras, but not at the cost of losing one’s privacy and having to hire bodyguards to protect one’s family. Those risks already existed in ancient China, although in a different form.
In the times of Lao-Tzu, Yang-Tzu and Chuang-Tzu, people who became too famous risked the envy or fear of the emperor. They risked being imprisoned or executed because the emperor regarded them as a threat, despite their high professional skills.
Lao-Tzu’s warning against arrogance brings a new element into the moral equation. The philosophical logic is different. In his condemnation of excessive pride, Lao-Tzu predicts the fall of the concerned person, meaning the dismissal from his job or public office, or the loss of his wealth or prosperity.
In this case, the relation of cause and effect plays internally, within the mind of the concerned person. During his years at the Zhou royal court, Lao-Tzu himself witnessed that, when an individual becomes full of himself, he will make bad decisions.
I regard this observation as part of the Tao, as a principle of natural law. Success and prosperity can easily obnubilate one’s judgement. It can make us delusional, overbearing and blind to reality. If we do nothing to counteract this trend, it will surely wreck havoc.
The historical illustrations of this phenomenon are too many to be counted. Emperor Caligula (12-41 AD) constitutes one of the most egregious offenders when it comes to haughtiness and self-delusion, but each person must guard himself against this risk, since it is so tempting to brag and overplay one’s cards.
While the Tao Te Ching undoubtedly warns against excess, there is no Yin and Yang involved in those warnings. Harmony and balance need to be found on each occasion, but they rarely conform to symmetrical patterns.
I view Yin and Yang as philosophical aids, as motley figures of speech, not as ethical guidelines. I would not devote time to speculating how much Yin and how much Yang are needed for achieving happiness. If we align our behaviour with the Tao, I would expect Yin and Yang to stay automatically in balance.
If you are interested in applying rational ideas in all sorts of situations, I recommend my book “Undisrupted: How highly effective people deal with disruptions.”