## 1. The Laozi Story




The *Shiji* (Records of the Historian) by the Han dynasty (206
B.C.E.-220 C.E.) court scribe and historian Sima Qian
(ca. 145-86 B.C.E.) offers a "biography" of
Laozi. Its reliability has been questioned, but it provides a point of
departure for reconstructing the Laozi story.




Laozi was a native of Chu, according to the *Shiji*, a southern
state in the Zhou dynasty (see map and discussion in Loewe and
Shaughnessy 1999, 594 and 597). His surname was Li; his given name was
Er, and he was also called Dan.




Laozi served as a keeper of archival records at the court of
Zhou. Confucius (551-479 B.C.E.) had consulted him on certain
ritual matters, we are told, and praised him lavishly afterward
(*Shiji* 63). This establishes the traditional claim that Laozi
was a senior contemporary of Confucius. A meeting, or meetings,
between Confucius and Laozi, identified as "Lao Dan," is
reported also in the *Zhuangzi* and other early Chinese
sources.




"Laozi cultivated Dao and virtue," as Sima Qian goes on to
relate, and "his learning was devoted to self-effacement and not
having fame. He lived in Zhou for a long time; witnessing the decline
of Zhou, he departed." When he reached the northwest border then
separating China from the outside world, he met Yin Xi, the official
in charge of the border crossing, who asked him to put his teachings
into writing. The result was a book consisting of some five thousand
Chinese characters, divided into two parts, which discusses "the
meaning of Dao and virtue." Thereafter, Laozi left; no one knew
where he had gone. This completes the main part of Sima Qian's
account. The remainder puts on record attempts to identify the
legendary Laozi with certain known historical individuals and
concludes with a list of Laozi's purported descendants (see W. T. Chan
1963, Lau 1963, or Henricks 2000 for an English translation).




Few scholars today would subscribe fully to the *Shiji*
report. Indeed, according to William Boltz, it "contains
virtually nothing that is demonstrably factual; we are left no choice
but to acknowledge the likely fictional nature of the traditional Lao
tzu [Laozi] figure" (1993, 270). Disagreements abound on every
front, including the name Laozi itself. Although the majority takes
"Laozi" to mean "Old Master," some scholars
believe that "Lao" is a surname. The *Zhuangzi* and
other early texts refer to "Lao Dan" consistently, but not
"Li Er." The name "Dan" is generally
understood to depict the bearer's "long ears," a mark of
longevity in Chinese physiognomy. According to Fung Yu-lan, Sima Qian
had "confused" the legendary Lao Dan with Li Er, who
flourished later during the "Warring States" period
(480-221 B.C.E.) and was the "real" founder of the
Daoist school (*daojia*) (1983, 171).




In an influential essay, A. C. Graham (1986) argues that the story of
Laozi reflects a conflation of different legends. The earliest strand
revolved around the meeting of Confucius with Lao Dan and was current
by the fourth century B.C.E. During the first half of the third
century, Lao Dan was recognized as a great thinker in his own right
and as the founder of a distinct "Laoist" school of
thought. It was not until the Han dynasty, when the teachings of
Laozi, Zhuangzi, and others were seen to share certain insights
centering on the concept of Dao, that they were classified together
under the rubric of philosophical "Daoism."




I cite these views here only to give a sense of the diversity and
volume of research on the Laozi story. It is clear that by 100
B.C.E. if not earlier, Laozi was already shrouded in legends and that
Sima Qian could only exercise his judgment as an historian to put
together a report that made sense to him, based on the different and
sometimes competing sources at his disposal.




The fact that Laozi appears favorably in both Confucian and Daoist
sources seems to argue against the likelihood that the figure was
fabricated for polemical purposes. It is conceivable that a
philosopher known as Lao Dan attracted a following based on his novel
reading of the Way and virtue. Deferentially, his followers would
refer to him as "Laozi."




Confucius had sought his advice presumably on mourning and funeral
rites, given that the Confucian work *Liji* (Records of Rites)
has Confucius citing Lao Dan four times specifically on these
rites. Indeed, various dates have been proposed for the
encounter--for example, 501 B.C.E., following the account in
the *Zhuangzi* (ch. 14). In any case, testifying to its appeal,
different accounts of the meeting circulated among the educated elite
during the Warring States period. Other details then came to be
associated with Lao Dan, which formed the basis of Sima Qian's
reconstruction.




Admittedly, this is conjecture. Though I find little reason not to
accept the traditional claim that Laozi was a senior contemporary of
Confucius, the identity of the "Old Master" no doubt will
continue to attract and divide scholarly opinion. In many popular
accounts, Laozi is described as the "founder" or
"father" of "Daoism." This begs a number of
questions and therefore should not be taken uncritically, and this is
the reason why a fairly extended discussion of the *Shiji*
Laozi story is offered here.




The story of Laozi occupies a cherished place in the Daoist
tradition. It is important also because it raises certain hermeneutic
expectations and affects the way in which the *Laozi* is
read. If the work was written by a single author, one might expect,
for example, a high degree of consistency in style and content. If
the *Laozi* was a work of the sixth or fifth century B.C.E.,
one might interpret certain sayings in the light of what we know of
the period. There is little consensus among scholars, however, on the
date or authorship of the *Laozi*, as we shall see below.




With the arrival of the "Way of the Celestial Masters"
(*tianshidao*), the first organized religious Daoist
establishment (*daojiao*) in the second century C.E., the story
of Laozi gained an important hagiographic dimension.




The founding of "Celestial Master" or "Heavenly
Master" Daoism was based on a new revelation of the Dao by Laozi
(on which see Kohn 1998a and 1998b, Kleeman 2016, and the
entry on 
 religious Daoism). In the eyes of
the faithful, the Dao is a
divine reality, and Laozi is seen as the personification of the
Dao. Lao Dan is but one manifestation of the divine Laozi, albeit a
pivotal one because of the writing of the *Daodejing*, which in
religious Daoism commands devotion as a foundational scripture that
promises not only wisdom but also immortality and salvation to those
who submit to its power. During the Tang dynasty (618-907 C.E.),
the imperial Li family traced its ancestry to Laozi. Today, Laozi's
"birthday" is celebrated in many parts of Asia on the
fifteenth day of the second lunar month.




The influence of the *Laozi* on Chinese culture is both deep
and far-reaching. One indication of its enduring appeal and
hermeneutical openness is the large number of commentaries devoted to
it throughout Chinese history--some seven hundred, according to
one count (W. T. Chan 1963, 77). The *Laozi* has inspired an
intellectual movement known as *xuanxue*, "Learning in
the Profound"--or "Neo-Daoism," as some
scholars prefer, emphasizing its roots in classical Daoism--that
dominated the Chinese elite or high culture from the third to the
sixth century C.E. (See the entry on "Neo-Daoism" in
this *Encyclopedia*.) The *Laozi* played a significant
role in informing not only philosophic thought but also the
development of literature, calligraphy, painting, music, martial arts,
and other cultural traditions.




Imperial patronage enhanced the prestige of the *Laozi* and
enlarged its scope of influence. In 733 C.E., the emperor Xuanzong
decreed that all officials should keep a copy of
the *Daodejing* at home and placed the classic on the list of
texts to be examined for the civil service examinations (see, e.g.,
the report in the official Tang history, *Jiu Tang shu* 8). In
religious Daoism, recitation of the *Daodejing* is a prescribed
devotional practice and features centrally in ritual
performance. The *Daodejing* has been set to music from an
early time. The term "*Laozi* learning"
(*Laoxue*) has come to designate an important field of study. A
useful work in Chinese that sketches the major landmarks in this
development is *Zhongguo Laoxue shi* (A History
of *Laozi* Learning in China) (Xiong Tieji, et al. 1995); a
follow-up effort focusing on *Laozi* scholarship in the
twentieth century by the same lead author was published in 2002.




The influence of the *Laozi* extends beyond China, as Daoism
reaches across Asia and in the modern period, the Western world. In
Hong Kong, Taiwan, and among the Chinese in Southeast Asia and beyond,
Daoism is a living tradition. Daoist beliefs and practices have
contributed also to the formation of Korean and Japanese culture,
although here the process of cultural transmission, assimilation, and
transformation is complex, especially given the close interaction
among Daoism, Buddhism, and indigenous traditions such as Shinto
(see Fukui, et al. 1983, vol. 3).




During the seventh century, the *Laozi* was translated into
Sanskrit; in the eighteenth century a Latin translation was brought to
England, after which there has been a steady supply of translations
into Western languages, yielding a handsome harvest of some 250
(LaFargue and Pas 1998, 277), with new ones still hitting bookstores
and internet sites almost every year. Some of the more notable recent
translations in English are Roberts 2001, Ivanhoe 2002, Ames and Hall
2003, Wagner 2003, Moeller 2007, Ryden and Penny 2008, and Kim 2012. A
forthcoming translation is Minford 2018.




Laozi is an "axial" philosopher whose insight helps shape
the course of human development, according to Karl Jaspers (1974). The
influence of the *Laozi* on Western thinkers is the subject of
Clarke 2000. Memorable phrases from the *Laozi* such as
"governing a large country is like cooking a small fish"
(ch. 60) have found their way into global political rhetoric. At the
popular level, several illustrated or "comic" versions of
the *Laozi* reach out to a younger and wider readership (e.g.,
Tsai Chih Chung, et al. 1995, now available also on YouTube). Some may
have come to learn about the *Laozi* through such best-selling
works as *The Tao of Physics* (Capra 1975) or *The Tao of
Pooh* (Hoff 1982); and there is also *A Taoist Cookbook*
(Saso 1994), which comes with "meditations" from
the *Daodejing*. From nature lovers to management gurus, a
growing audience is discovering that the *Laozi* has something
to offer to them. The reception of the *Laozi* in modern Asia
and the West falls outside the scope of this article; nevertheless, it
is important to note that the *Laozi* should be regarded not
only as a work of early Chinese philosophy, but also in a larger
context as a classic of world literature with keen contemporary
relevance.




The next three sections are intended for readers who are interested in
the textual history and commentarial tradition of the *Laozi*,
including the major manuscripts recovered through archaeological
excavations or from the antiquities market. They are important to
understanding the *Laozi*, but one may go directly to section 5
on the main interpretive approaches to the text if one wishes to
bypass them.


## 2. Date and Authorship of the *Laozi*




The date of composition refers to the time when the *Laozi*
reached more or less its final form; it does not rule out later
interpolations or corruptions. The traditional view, of course, is
that the *Laozi* was written by Lao Dan in the sixth or early
fifth century B.C.E. This seems unlikely, however, if it is assumed
that the *Laozi* was written by a single author. As the
archaeological evidence to be presented below will indicate, bodies of
sayings attributed to Laozi were committed to writing probably from
the second half of the fifth century B.C.E., resulting in different
collections with overlapping contents. These collections grew,
competed for attention, and gradually came to be consolidated during
the fourth century B.C.E. By the middle of the third century B.C.E.,
the *Laozi* probably reached a relatively stable form.




It is possible, as A. C. Graham suggests, that the *Laozi* was
ascribed to Lao Dan around 250 B.C.E. by the text's author or
"publiciser," capitalizing on Lao Dan's reputation (1986,
119; also see Graham 1989). It is also possible that
the *Laozi* has "preserved" the ideas of Lao
Dan. W. T. Chan, for example, believes that the text
"embodied" the teachings of Laozi, although it was not
written until the fourth century (1963, 74).




It seems reasonable to suppose that Laozi, whether or not his real
name was Li Er, attracted a following and that some of his sayings
entered the world of Chinese philosophical discourse during the fifth
century B.C.E. A process of oral transmission may have preceded the
appearance of these sayings in written form.




It is conceivable that a succession of editors or compilers brought
together diverse bodies of Laozi sayings, resulting in the
mature *Laozi*. D. C. Lau, for example, is of the view that
the *Laozi* is an "anthology" (1963, 14). According
to Bruce Brooks and Taeko Brooks, the *Laozi* contains
different layers of material spanning the period between 340 and 249
B.C.E.--"its long timespan precludes a single author"
(1998, 151). Indeed, Chad Hansen describes the "dominant current
textual theory" of the *Daodejing* as one which
"treats the text as an edited accumulation of fragments and bits
drawn from a wide variety of sources ... there was no single
author, no Laozi" (1992, 201).




Although in this sense the *Laozi* may be regarded as a
composite work, the product of many hands over a long period of time,
it should not be assumed that the sayings that now inhabit
the *Laozi* were put together at random. More likely, the final
product reflects a process of intellectual distillation on the part of
the compilers, who arranged and/or altered the material at their
disposal (see also LaFargue 1992 and Mair 1990 on the composition of
the *Laozi*).




The language of the *Laozi* does provide some clues to its date
of composition. Much of the text is rhymed. Focusing on rhyme
patterns, Liu Xiaogan (1994 and 1997) concludes that the poetic
structure of the *Laozi* is closer to that of
the *Shijing* (Classic of Poetry) than that of the
later *Chuci* (Songs of Chu).




The dating of the *Shijing* and the *Chuci* is by no
means precise, although generally the poems collected in the former
should not be later than the early fifth century B.C.E., whereas those
collected in the latter can be traced to no earlier than the middle of
the Warring States period, around 300 B.C.E. For this reason, Liu
Xiaogan argues, the traditional view first articulated by Sima Qian
should be upheld. Examining a wider range of linguistic evidence,
William Baxter agrees that the *Laozi* should be dated earlier
than the *Zhuangzi* and the *Chuci*, but he traces
"the bulk of the *Lao-tzu* to the mid or early fourth
century" (1998, 249). Both Liu and Baxter provide a concise
analysis of the different theories of the date of
the *Laozi*.




Why is all this important? It may be argued that date and authorship
are immaterial to and may detract from interpretation. The
"truth" of the *Laozi* is "timeless,"
according to this view, transcending historical and cultural
specificities. Issues of provenance are important, however, if context
has any role to play in the production of meaning.




Polemics among different schools of thought, for example, were far
more pronounced during the Warring States period than in the earlier
"Spring and Autumn" period (770-481 B.C.E.). (There
are different ways to date the Spring and Autumn and Warring States
periods, but they do not affect the discussion here.) The Zhou
government had been in decline; warfare among the "feudal"
states intensified both in scale and frequency from the fourth century
B.C.E. onward. As the political conditions deteriorated, philosophers
and strategists, who grew both in number and popularity as a social
group or profession during this time, vied to convince the rulers of
the various states of their program to bring order to the land. At the
same time, perhaps with the increased displacement and disillusionment
of the privileged elite, a stronger eremitic tradition also
emerged. If the bulk of the *Laozi* had originated from the
fourth century, it might reflect some of these concerns. From this
perspective, the origin of the *Laozi* is as much a
hermeneutical issue as it is a historical one.


## 3. Textual Traditions




The discovery of two *Laozi* silk manuscripts at Mawangdui,
near Changsha, Hunan province in 1973 marks an important milestone in
modern *Laozi* research. The manuscripts, identified simply as
"A" (*jia*) and "B" (*yi*), were
found in a tomb that was sealed in 168 B.C.E. The texts themselves can
be dated earlier, the "A" manuscript being the older of
the two, copied in all likelihood before 195 B.C.E. (see Lau 1982,
Boltz 1984, and Henricks 1989). A documentary on the Mawangdui find
was aired on Chinese CCTV-10 in June 2010, which can be viewed from
its website. The Hunan Provincial Museum website also provides useful
information.




Before this find, access to the *Laozi* was mainly through the
received text of Wang Bi (226-249 C.E.) and Heshanggong, a
legendary figure depicted as a teacher to Emperor Wen
(r. 179-157 B.C.E.) of the Han dynasty. There are other
manuscript versions, but by and large they play a secondary role in
the history of the classic.




A more recent archaeological find in Guodian, the so-called
"Bamboo-slip *Laozi*," which predates the Mawangdui
manuscripts, has rekindled debates on the origin and composition of
the *Laozi*. But first, a note on the title and structure of
the *Daodejing*.




The *Laozi* did not acquire its "classic" status
until the Han dynasty. According to the *Shiji* (49.5b), the
Empress Dowager Dou--wife of Emperor Wen and mother of Emperor
Jing (r. 156-141 B.C.E.)--was a dedicated student of
the *Laozi*. Later sources added that it was Emperor Jing who
established the text officially as a classic. However, the
title *Daodejing* appears not to have been widely used until
later, toward the close of the Han era.




The *Daodejing* is also referred to as the *Daode
zhenjing* (True Classic of the Way and Virtue), the *Taishang
xuanyuan daodejing* (Classic of the Way and Virtue of the Highest
Profound Origins), and less formally the "five-thousand
character" text, on account of its approximate length. Most
versions exceed five thousand characters by about five to ten percent,
but it is interesting to note that numerological considerations later
became an integral part of the history of the work. According to the
seventh-century Daoist master Cheng Xuanying, it was Ge Xuan (fl. 200
C.E.), a revered Daoist adept, who shortened the *Laozi* text
that accompanied the Heshanggong commentary to fit the magical number
of five thousand. This claim cannot be verified, but a number
of *Laozi* manuscripts discovered at Dunhuang contain 4,999
characters.




The current *Daodejing* is divided into two parts
(*pian*) and 81 chapters or sections (*zhang*). Part
one, comprising chapters 1-37, has come to be known as
the *Daojing* (Classic of Dao), while chapters 38-81 make
up the *Dejing* (Classic of Virtue).



 
This is understood to be a thematic division--chapter 1 begins
with the word Dao, while chapter 38 begins with the phrase
"superior virtue"--although the concepts of Dao and
virtue (*de*) feature in both parts. As a rough heuristic
guide, some commentators have suggested that the *Daojing* is
more "metaphysical," whereas the *Dejing* focuses
more on sociopolitical issues.




In this context, it is easy to appreciate the tremendous interest
occasioned by the discovery of the Mawangdui *Laozi*
manuscripts. The two manuscripts contain all the chapters that are
found in the current *Laozi*, although the chapters follow a
different order in a few places. For example, in both manuscripts, the
sections that appear as chapters 80 and 81 in the
current *Laozi* come immediately after a section that
corresponds to chapter 66 of the present text.




Both the Mawangdui "A" and "B" manuscripts are
similarly divided into two parts, but in contrast with the current
version, in reverse order; i.e., both manuscripts begin with
the *Dejing*, corresponding to chapter 38 of the received
text. "Part one" of the "B" manuscript ends
with the editorial notation, "Virtue, 3,041 [characters],"
while the last line of "Part two" reads: "Dao,
2,426." Does this mean that the classic should be renamed,
from *Daodejing* to "*Dedaojing*" (Classic
of Virtue and the Way)? One scholar, in fact, has adopted the
title *Dedaojing* (*Te-Tao ching*) for his translation
of the Mawangdui *Laozi* (Henricks 1989).




It seems unlikely that the Mawangdui arrangement stems simply from
scribal idiosyncrasy or happenstance--e.g., that the copyist, in
writing out the *Laozi* on silk, had made use of an original
text in bamboo slips and just happened to start with a bundle of slips
containing the *Dejing* (Yan 1976, 12, explains how this is
possible). If the order is deliberate, does it imply that the
"original" *Laozi* gives priority to sociopolitical
issues? This raises important questions for interpretation.




The division into 81 chapters reflects numerological interest and is
associated particularly with the Heshanggong version, which also
carries chapter titles. It was not universally accepted until much
later, perhaps the Tang period, when the text was standardized under
the patronage of Emperor Xuanzong (r. 712-756). Traditional
sources report that some versions were divided into 64, 68, or 72
chapters; and some did not have chapter divisions (Henricks 1982).




The Mawangdui "A" manuscript contains in some places a dot
or "period" that appears to signal the beginning of a
chapter. The earlier Guodian texts (see below) are not divided into
two parts, but in many places they employ a black square mark to
indicate the end of a section. The sections or chapters so marked
generally agree with the division in the present *Laozi*. Thus,
although the 81-chapter formation may be relatively late, some attempt
at chapter division seems evident from an early stage of the textual
history of the *Daodejing*.




Until about two decades ago, the Mawangdui manuscripts held the pride
of place as the oldest extant manuscripts of the *Laozi*. In
late 1993, the excavation of a tomb (identified as M1) in Guodian,
Jingmen city, Hubei province, yielded among other things some 800
bamboo slips, of which 730 are inscribed, containing over 13,000
Chinese characters. Some of these, amounting to about 2,000
characters, match the *Laozi* (see Allan and Williams 2000, and
Henricks 2000). The tomb is located near the old capital of the state
of Chu and is dated around 300 B.C.E. Robbers entered the tomb before
it was excavated, although the extent of the damage is uncertain.




The bamboo texts, written in a Chu script, have been transcribed into
standard Chinese and published under the title *Guodian Chumu
zhujian* (Beijing: Wenwu, 1998), which on the basis of the size
and shape of the slips, calligraphy, and other factors divides
the *Laozi* material into three groups. Group A contains
thirty-nine bamboo slips, which correspond in whole or in part to the
following chapters of the present text: 19, 66, 46, 30, 15, 64, 37,
63, 2, 32, 25, 5, 16, 64, 56, 57, 55, 44, 40 and 9. Groups B and C are
smaller, with eighteen (chs. 59, 48, 20, 13, 41, 52, 45, 54) and
fourteen slips (chs. 17, 18, 35, 31, 64), respectively.




On the whole, the Guodian "bamboo-slip *Laozi*" is
consistent with the received text, although the placement or sequence
of the chapters is different and there are numerous variant and/or
archaic characters. Particularly, whereas chapter 19 of the
current *Laozi* contains what appears to be a strong attack on
Confucian ideals--"Cut off benevolence (*ren*),
discard rightness (*yi*)"--the Guodian
"A" text directs its readers to "cut off
artificiality, discard deceit." This has been taken to suggest
that in the course of its transmission, the *Laozi* has taken
on a more "polemical" outlook. However, the Guodian
"C" text indicates that *ren* and *yi* arose
only after the "Great Dao" had gone into decline, which
agrees with chapter 18 of the current *Laozi*. In other words,
it would be a hasty assumption that the Guodian texts do not engage in
a critique of some of the key ideas central to the "Ru" or
Confucian tradition.




It is not clear whether the Guodian bamboo manuscripts were copied
from one source and meant to be read as one text divided into three
parts, whether they were "selections" from a longer
original, or whether they were three different texts copied from
different sources at different times (for a nuanced discussion, see
Boltz 1999). There is one important clue, however. The "A"
and "C" texts give two different versions of what is now
part of chapter 64 of the *Laozi*, which suggests that they
came from different sources. One scholar at least has suggested a
chronology to the making of the Guodian *Laozi* bamboo slips,
with the "A" group being the oldest of the three, copied
around 400 B.C.E. (Ding 2000, 7-9).




Taking into account all the available evidence, it seems likely that
different collections of sayings attributed to Laozi expanded and
gained currency during the fourth century B.C.E. They would have been
derived from earlier, oral or written sources. During the third
century B.C.E., the *Laozi* settled more or less into its final
form. It was then quoted extensively in such works as
the *Hanfeizi* and the "outer" and
"miscellaneous" chapters of the *Zhuangzi*, and
began to attract commentarial attention.




Even more recently, the growing family of *Laozi* texts
welcomed another new arrival. In January 2009, Peking University
accepted a gift of a sizeable collection of inscribed bamboo slips,
said to have been retrieved from overseas. Among them, we find a
nearly complete version of the *Laozi*.




Although the published material to date did not mention any carbon
dating of the slips, the consensus among the scholars who have worked
with them is that they date to the Western Han dynasty. More
precisely, based especially on the calligraphic form of the
writing--a relatively mature form of the "clerical"
script established during the Han period--they have been dated to
the second half of the reign of Emperor Wu of the Han (141-87
B.C.E.).




Like the Mawangdui silk manuscripts, the Peking University text, now
referred to as the "Beida *Laozi*," is divided into
two parts. They are titled "Laozi Classic, Part 1"
(*Laozi shang jing*) and "Laozi Classic, Part 2"
(*Laozi xia jing*). This indicates that not only
the *Laozi* was divided into two parts during the Western Han
period, but also it was accorded the status of a "classic"
(*jing*), which may give some credence to the traditional claim
that the *Laozi* achieved canonical status during the preceding
reign of Emperor Jing (156-141 B.C.E.).




The Beida *Laozi* agrees with the Mawangdui manuscripts in
another important respect; that is, Part 1 also corresponds to
chapters 38-81 of the current 81-chapter version, or
the *Dejing*, and Part 2, chapters 1-37,
or *Daojing*. Although this cannot be taken to mean that
the *Laozi* was "originally" written in that order,
it may be the case that this was the dominant textual tradition during
the Han period. Like the Mawangdui manuscripts, the
Beida *Laozi* also records the number of characters at the end
of each part.




In terms of wording, the Beida *Laozi* agrees with the
Mawangdui manuscripts in many instances, although in some places it
agrees rather with that of the received text. For example, whereas
Chapter 22 of the received text describes the sage as a
"model" (*shi*) for the world, the
Beida *Laozi* agrees with the Mawangdui versions in likening
the sage more concretely to a "shepherd"
(*mu*). However, the Beida text agrees with the standard version
at the beginning of Chapter 2, as opposed to the shorter formulation
found in the Guodian and Mawangdui versions.




What is equally significant is that the sequence or order of the
chapters is exactly the same as that in the received *Laozi*.
The difference lies in the division of some of the chapters. Chapters
17-19 of the received text form one chapter in the
Beida *Laozi*. The same is true for chapters 6-7, 32-33 and
78-79. However, the current chapter 64 appears as two chapters in the
Beida slips. Altogether there are 77 chapters. Each chapter is
clearly marked, with a round dot at the start, and each chapter starts
on a separate bamboo slip.




The Beida *Laozi* is almost intact in its entirety, missing
only some 60 characters when compared with the received text. While it
offers fresh glimpses into the development of the text, it does not
provide any significant new insight into the meaning of
the *Laozi*. A series of articles on the Peking University
bamboo slips were published in the journal *Wenwu* (2011,
no. 6). The Beida *Laozi* was published in December 2012 and
launched in February 2013. Although the majority of scholars accept
the authenticity of the find, a notable critic is Xing Wen, who argues
strongly that it is a forgery (Xing 2016; for a critical discussion in
English, see Foster 2017).




In summary, two approaches to the making of the *Laozi* warrant
consideration, for they bear directly on interpretation.




A linear "evolutionary" model of textual formation would
suggest that the earliest sayings attributed to Laozi address
principally issues of governance, reflecting a deep concern with the
decline of Zhou rule. Some of these sayings were preserved in the
Guodian bamboo texts.




On this view, the *Laozi* underwent substantial change and grew
into a longer and more complex work during the third century B.C.E.,
becoming in this process more polemical against the Confucian and
other schools of thought, and acquiring new material of stronger
metaphysical or cosmological interest. The Mawangdui manuscripts were
based on this mature version of the *Laozi*; the original
emphasis on politics, however, can still be detected in the placement
of the *Dejing* before the *Daojing*. Later versions
reversed this order and in so doing subsumed politics under a broader
philosophical vision of Dao as the beginning and end of all
beings.




As distinguished from a linear evolutionary model, what is suggested
here is that there were different collections of sayings attributed to
Laozi, overlapping to some extent but each with its own emphases and
predilections, inhabiting a particular interpretive context.




Although some key chapters in the current *Laozi* that deal
with the nature of Dao (e.g., chs. 1, 14) are not found in the Guodian
corpus, the idea that the Dao is "born before heaven and
earth," for example, which is found in chapter 25 of the
received text is already present. The critical claim that "being
[*you*] is born of nonbeing [*wu*]" in chapter 40
also figures in the Guodian "A" text. This seems to argue
against the suggestion that the *Laozi*, and for that matter
ancient Chinese philosophical works in general, were not interested or
lacked the ability to engage in abstract philosophic thinking, an
assumption that sometimes appears to underlie evolutionary approaches
to the development of Chinese philosophy.




Another Guodian document, given the title "Taiyi
shengshui" ("The Great One Gives Birth to the
Waters," translated in Ames and Hall 2003; also see Boltz 1999
and Allan 2003) and which may have formed an integral part of the
Guodian *Laozi* "C" text, certainly reflects strong
interest in cosmogony and cosmology. The text known as "Heng
Xian," one of the documents found in the corpus of bamboo slips
recovered by the Shanghai Museum in 1994 and which I interpret in the
sense of that which comes before and determines the created order,
testifies further to the active engagement with cosmological and
metaphysical questions in early China (Ma Chengyuan 2003; a special
issue of the journal *Dao* 12.2, 2013 is devoted to this
work).




The Guodian and Mawangdui finds are extremely valuable. They are
syntactically clearer than the received text in some instances, thanks
to the larger number of grammatical particles they
employ. Nevertheless, they cannot resolve all the controversies and
uncertainties surrounding the *Laozi*. In my view, the nature
of Dao and the application of Daoist insight to ethics and governance
probably formed the twin foci in collections of Laozi sayings from the
start. They were then developed in several ways--e.g., some
collections were combined; new sayings were added; and explanatory
comments, illustrations, and elaboration on individual sayings were
integrated into the text. The demand for textual uniformity rose when
the *Laozi* gained recognition, and consequently the different
textual traditions eventually gave way to the received text of
the *Laozi*.




As mentioned, the current *Laozi* on which most reprints,
studies and translations are based is the version that comes down to
us along with the commentaries by Wang Bi and Heshanggong. Three
points need to be made in this regard.




First, technically there are multiple versions of the Wang Bi and
Heshanggong *Laozi*--over thirty Heshanggong versions are
extant--but the differences are on the whole minor. Second, the
Wang Bi and Heshanggong versions are not the same, but they are
sufficiently similar to be classified as belonging to the same line of
textual transmission. Third, the Wang Bi and Heshanggong versions that
we see today have suffered change. Prior to the invention of printing,
when each manuscript had to be copied by hand, editorial changes and
scribal errors are to be expected. In particular, the *Laozi*
text that now accompanies Wang Bi's commentary bears the imprint of
later alteration, mainly under the influence of the Heshanggong
version, and cannot be regarded as the *Laozi* that Wang Bi
himself had seen and commented on. Boltz (1985) and Wagner (1989) have
examined this question in some detail.




The "current" version refers to the *Sibu beiyao*
and the *Sibu congkan* editions of
the *Daodejing*. (The *Sibu beiyao* and *Sibu
congkan* are large-scale reproductions of traditional Chinese
texts published in the early twentieth century.) The former contains
the Wang Bi version and commentary, together with a colophon by the
Song scholar Chao Yuezhi (1059-1129), a second note by Xiong Ke
(ca. 1111-1184), and the Tang scholar Lu Deming's
(556-627) *Laozi yinyi* (Glosses on the Meaning and
Pronunciation of the *Laozi*). It is a reproduction of the Qing
dynasty "Wuying Palace" edition, which in turn is based on
a Ming edition (see especially Hatano 1979).




The Heshanggong version preserved in the *Sibu congkan* series
is taken from the library of the famous bibliophile Qu Yong
(fl. 1850). According to Qu's own catalogue, this is a Song dynasty
version, published probably after the reign of the emperor Xiaozong
(r. 1163-1189). Older extant Heshanggong versions include two
incomplete Tang versions and fragments found in Dunhuang.




Besides the Guodian bamboo texts, the Mawangdui silk manuscripts, the
Beida *Laozi* and the received text of Wang Bi and Heshanggong,
there is an "ancient version" (*guben*) edited by
the early Tang scholar Fu Yi (fl. 600). Reportedly, this version was
recovered from a tomb in 574 C.E., whose occupant was a consort of the
Chu general Xiang Yu (d. 202 B.C.E.), the rival of Liu Bang before the
latter emerged victorious and founded the Han dynasty. A later
redaction of the "ancient version" was made by Fan
Yingyuan in the Song dynasty. There are some differences, but these
two can be regarded as having stemmed from the same textual
tradition.




Manuscript fragments discovered in the Dunhuang caves form another
important source in *Laozi* research. Among them are several
Heshanggong fragments (especially S. 477 and S. 3926 in the Stein
collection, and P. 2639 in the Pelliot collection) and the
important *Xiang'er Laozi* with commentary. Another Dunhuang
manuscript that merits attention is the "Suo Dan"
fragment, now at the University Art Museum, Princeton University,
which contains the last thirty-one chapters of the *Daodejing*
beginning with chapter 51 of the modern text. It is signed and dated
at the end, bearing the name of the third-century scholar and diviner
Suo Dan, who is said to have made the copy, written in ink on paper,
in 270 C.E. According to Rao Zongyi (1955), the Suo Dan version
belongs to the Heshanggong line of the *Laozi* text. William
Boltz (1996), however, questions its third-century date and argues
that the fragment in many instances also agrees with the Fu Yi
"ancient version."




While manuscript versions inform textual criticism of
the *Laozi*, stone inscriptions provide further collaborating
support. Over twenty steles, mainly of Tang and Song origins, are
available to textual critics, although some are in poor condition (Yan
1957). Students of the *Laozi* today can work with several
Chinese and Japanese studies that make use of a large number of
manuscript versions and stone inscriptions (notably Ma 1965, Jiang
1980, Zhu 1980, and Shima 1973). Boltz (1993) offers an excellent
introduction to the manuscript traditions of
the *Laozi*. Wagner (2003) attempts to reconstruct the original
face of Wang Bi's *Laozi* (cf. Lou 1980 and Lynn 1999). A major
contribution to *Laozi* studies in Chinese is Liu Xiaogan 2006,
which compares the Guodian, Mawangdui, Fu Yi, Wang Bi, and Heshanggong
versions of the *Laozi* and provides detailed textual and
interpretive analysis for each chapter. In an article in English, Liu
(2003) sets out some of his main findings.


## 4. Commentaries




Commentaries to the *Laozi* offer an invaluable guide to
interpretation and are important also for their own contributions to
Chinese philosophy and religion.




Two chapters in the current *Hanfeizi* (chs. 21 and 22) are
entitled "Explaining (the Sayings of) *Laozi*"
(*Jie Lao*) and "Illustrating (the Sayings
of) *Laozi*" (*Yu Lao*), which can be regarded as
the earliest extant commentary to the classic (for a detailed study
and translation, see Sarah A. Queen 2013). The
"bibliographical" section of the *Hanshu* (History
of the Former or Western Han Dynasty) lists four commentaries to
the *Laozi*, but they have not
survived. Nevertheless, *Laozi* learning began to flourish from
the Han period. The commentaries by Heshanggong, Yan Zun, Wang Bi, and
the *Xiang'er* commentary will be introduced in what
follows. Some mention will also be made of later developments in the
history of the *Daodejing*. The late Isabelle Robinet has
contributed an important pioneering study of the early *Laozi*
commentaries (1977; see also Robinet 1998).




Traditionally, the Heshanggong commentary is regarded as a product of
the early Han dynasty. The name Heshanggong means an old man who
dwells by the side of a river, and some have identified the river in
question to be the Yellow River. An expert on the *Laozi*, he
caught the attention of Emperor Wen, who went personally to consult
him. Heshanggong revealed to the emperor his true identity as a divine
emissary sent by the "Supreme Lord of the Dao"--i.e.,
the divine Laozi--to teach him. The emperor proved a humble
student, as the legend concludes, worthy of receiving
the *Daodejing* with Heshanggong's commentary (A. Chan
1991).




Recent Chinese studies generally place the commentary at the end of
the Han period, although some Japanese scholars would date it to as
late as the sixth century C.E. It is probably a second-century
C.E. work and reflects the influence of the "Huang-Lao"
(Yellow Emperor and Laozi) tradition, which flourished during the
early Han dynasty (A. Chan 1991a). Called in early sources
the *Laozi zhangju*, it belongs to the genre
of *zhangju* literature, prevalent in Han times, which one may
paraphrase as commentary by "chapter and sentence." Its
language is simple; its imagination, down-to-earth. The Heshanggong
commentary shares with other Han works the cosmological belief that
the universe is constituted by *qi*, the energy-like building
blocks of life and the vital constituent of the cosmos, variously
translated as "vital energy," "life-force," or
"pneuma." On this basis, interpreting the text in terms of
yin-yang theory, the *Laozi* is seen to disclose not only the
mystery of the origins of the universe but also the secret to personal
well-being and sociopolitical order.




What the *Laozi* calls the "One," according to
Heshanggong, refers to the purest and most potent form
of *qi*-energy that brings forth and continues to nourish all
beings. This is the meaning of *de*, the "virtue"
or power with which the "ten thousand things"--i.e.,
all beings--have been endowed and without which life would
cease.




The maintenance of "virtue," which the commentary also
describes as "guarding the One," is thus crucial to
self-cultivation. A careful diet, exercise, and some form of
meditation are implied, but generally the commentary focuses on the
diminishing of selfish desires. The government of the
"sage"--a term common to all schools of Chinese
thought but which is given a distinctive Daoist meaning in the
commentary--rests on the same premise. Policies that are harmful
to the people such as heavy taxation and severe punishment are to be
avoided, but the most fundamental point remains that the ruler himself
must cherish what the *Laozi* calls "emptiness" and
"nonaction." Disorder stems from the dominance of desire,
which reflects the unruly presence of confused and
agitated *qi*-energy. In this way, self-cultivation and
government are shown to form an integral whole.




A second major commentary is the *Laozi zhigui* (The Essential
Meaning of the *Laozi*) attributed to the Han dynasty scholar
Yan Zun (fl. 83 B.C.E.-10 C.E.). Styled Junping, Yan's surname
was originally Zhuang; it was changed in later written records to the
semantically similar Yan to comply with the legal restriction not to
use the name Zhuang, which was the personal name of Emperor Ming
(r. 57-75) of the Later or Eastern Han dynasty. Yan Zun is well
remembered in traditional sources as a recluse of great learning and
integrity, a diviner of legendary ability, and an author of
exceptional talent. The famous Han poet and philosopher Yang Xiong (53
B.C.E.-18 C.E.) studied under Yan and spoke glowingly of
him.




The *Laozi zhigui* (abbreviated hereafter as *Zhigui*),
as it now stands, is incomplete; only the commentary to
the *Dejing*, chapters 38-81 of the
current *Laozi*, remains. The best edition of
the *Zhigui* is that contained in the *Daozang* (Daoist
Canon, no. 693 in the *Daozang zimu yinde*, Harvard-Yenching
Sinological Index Series, no. 25), which clearly indicates that the
work had originally thirteen *juan* or books, the first six of
which have been lost. Judging from the available evidence, it can be
accepted as a Han product (A. Chan 1998a). The *Laozi* text
that accompanies Yan Zun's commentary agrees in many instances with
the wording of the Mawangdui manuscripts.




Like Heshanggong, Yan Zun also subscribes to the yin-yang cosmological
theory characteristic of Han thought. Unlike Heshanggong's commentary,
however, the *Zhigui* does not prescribe a program of
nourishing one's *qi* endowment or actively cultivating
"long life." This does not mean that it rejects the ideal
of longevity. On the contrary, it recognizes that the Dao "lives
forever and does not die" (8.9b), and that the man of Dao,
correspondingly, "enjoys long life" (7.2a). Valuing one's
spirit and vital energy is important, but the *Zhigui* is
concerned that self-cultivation must not violate the principle of
"nonaction." Any effort contrary to what
the *Laozi* has termed "naturalness"
(*ziran*) is counter-productive and doomed to failure.




The concept of *ziran* occupies a pivotal position in Yan Zun's
commentary. It describes the nature of the Dao and its manifestation
in the world. It also points to an ethical ideal. The way in which
natural phenomena operate reflects the workings of the Dao. The
"sage" follows the Dao in that he, too, abides by
naturalness. In practice this means attending to one's
"heart-mind" (*xin*) so that it will not be
enslaved by desire. Significantly, the *Zhigui* suggests that
just as the sage "responds" to the Dao in being simple and
empty of desire, the common people would in turn respond to the sage
and entrust the empire to him. In this way, the *Laozi* is seen
to offer a comprehensive guide to order and harmony at all levels.




An early commentary that maximizes the religious import of
the *Laozi* is the *Xiang'er Commentary*. Although it is
mentioned in catalogues of Daoist works, there was no real knowledge
of it until a copy was discovered among the Dunhuang manuscripts
(S. 6825 in the Stein collection). The manuscript copy, now housed in
the British Library, was probably made around 500 C.E. The original
text, disagreement among scholars notwithstanding, is generally traced
to around 200 C.E. It is closely linked to the "Way of the
Celestial Masters" and has been ascribed to Zhang Daoling, the
founder of the sect, or his grandson Zhang Lu, who was instrumental in
ensuring the group's survival after the collapse of the Han dynasty. A
detailed study and translation of the work in English is now available
(Bokenkamp 1997).




The *Xiang'er* manuscript is unfortunately incomplete; only the
first part has survived, beginning with the middle of chapter 3 and
ending with chapter 37 in the current chapter division of
the *Laozi*. It is not clear what the title, *Xiang'er*,
means. Following Rao Zongyi and Ofuchi Ninji, Stephen Bokenkamp
suggests that it is best understood in the literal sense that the Dao
"thinks (*xiang*) of you (*er*)" (1997,
61). This underscores the central thesis of the commentary, that
devotion to the Dao in terms of self-cultivation and compliance with
its precepts would assure boundless blessing in this life and
beyond.




The *Xiang'er* commentary accepts without question the divine
status of Laozi. While Yan Zun and Heshanggong direct their commentary
primarily to those in a position to effect political change,
the *Xiang'er* invites a larger audience to participate in the
quest for the Dao, to achieve union with the Dao through spiritual and
moral discipline. It is possible to attain the "life-span of an
undefiled, godlike being" (*xianshou*). Nourishing one's
vital *qi*-energy through meditation and other practices
remains the key to attaining "long life" and ultimately to
forming a spiritual body devoid of the blemishes of mundane existence
(Rao 1991; see also Puett 2004).




Spiritual discipline, however, is insufficient; equally important is
the accumulation of moral merit. Later Daoist sources refer to the
"nine precepts" of the *Xiang'er*. There is also a
longer set known as the "twenty-seven precepts" of
the *Xiang'er*. These include general positive steps such as
being tranquil and yielding, as well as specific injunctions against
envy, killing, and other morally reprehensible acts. Likening the
human body to the walls of a pond, the essential *qi*-energy to
the water in it, and good deeds the source of the water,
the *Xiang'er* commentary makes clear that deficiency in any
one would lead to disastrous consequences (see Bokenkamp 1993).




Compared with the *Xiang'er*, Wang Bi's *Laozi*
commentary could not be more different. There is no reference to
"immortals"; no deified Laozi. The *Daodejing*, as
Wang Bi sees it, is fundamentally not concerned with the art of
"long life" but offers profound insight into the radical
otherness of Dao as the source of being, and the practical
implications that follow from it.




Styled Fusi, Wang Bi (226-249) was one of the acknowledged
leaders of the movement of "Learning in the Profound"
(*xuanxue*) that came into prominence during the Wei period
(220-265) and dominated the Chinese intellectual scene well into
the sixth century. The word *xuan* denotes literally a shade of
dark red and is used in the *Laozi* (esp. ch. 1) to suggest the
mystery or profundity of Dao. The movement has been termed, perhaps
not without ambiguity, "Neo-Daoism" in Western studies. It
signifies a broad philosophical front united in its attempt to discern
the "true" meaning of Dao but not a homogeneous or
partisan school. Alarmed by what they saw as the decline of Dao,
influential intellectuals of the day initiated a sweeping
reinterpretation of the classical heritage. They did not neglect the
Confucian classics but drew inspiration especially from
the *Yijing*, the *Laozi*, and the *Zhuangzi*,
which were then referred to as the "Three (Classics on the)
Profound" (*sanxuan*); that is to say, the three key
treatises unlocking the mystery of Dao. Wang Bi, despite his short
life, distinguished himself as a brilliant interpreter of
the *Laozi* and the *Yijing* (see A. Chan 1991a, Wagner
2000, Lynn 2015, and "Neo-Daoism" in
this *Encyclopedia*).




According to Wang Bi, Dao is indeed the "beginning" of the
"ten thousand things." Unlike Heshanggong or
the *Xiang'er*, however, he did not pursue a cosmological or
religious interpretation of the process of creation. Rather, Wang
seems more concerned with what may be called the logic of
creation.




Dao constitutes the absolute "beginning" in that all
beings have causes and conditions that derive logically from a
necessary foundation. The ground of being, however, cannot be itself a
being; otherwise, infinite regress would render the logic of
the *Laozi* suspect. For this reason, the *Laozi* would
only speak of Dao as "nonbeing" (*wu*). We will
come back to this point later.




The transcendence of Dao must not be compromised. To do justice to
the *Laozi*, it is also important to show how the function of
Dao translates into basic "principles" (*li*)
governing the universe. The regularity of the seasons, the plenitude
of nature, and other expressions of "heaven and earth" all
attest to the presence of Dao. Human beings also conform to these
principles, and so are "modeled" ultimately after Dao.




Wang Bi is often praised in later sources for having given the concept
of *li*, "principle," its first extended
philosophical treatment. In the realm of Dao, principles are
characterized by "naturalness" (*ziran*) and
"nonaction" (*wuwei*). Wang Bi
defines *ziran* as "an expression of the ultimate."
In this regard, attention has been drawn to Yan Zun's
influence. Nonaction helps explain the practical meaning of
naturalness. In ethical terms, Wang Bi takes nonaction to mean freedom
from the dictates of desire. This defines not only the goal of
self-cultivation but also that of government. The concepts of
naturalness and nonaction will be discussed further below. Wang
Bi's *Laozi* commentary has exerted a strong influence on
modern interpretations of the *Laozi* in both Asia and the
West. There are four English translations available (Lin 1977, Rump
1979, Lynn 1999, and Wagner 2003).




Among these four commentaries, Heshanggong's *Laozi zhangju*
occupied the position of preeminence in traditional China, at least
until the Song dynasty. For a long period, Wang Bi's work was
relatively neglected. The authority of the Heshanggong commentary can
be traced to its place in the Daoist religion, where it ranks second
only to the *Daodejing* itself. Besides Heshanggong's work and
the *Xiang'er*, there are two other commentaries, the *Laozi
jiejie* (Sectional Explanation) and the *Laozi neijie*
(Inner Explanation), that are closely associated with religious
Daoism. Both have been ascribed to Yin Xi, the keeper of the pass who
"persuaded" Laozi to write the *Daodejing* and who,
according to Daoist hagiographic records, later studied under the
divine Laozi and became an "immortal." These texts,
however, only survive in citations (see Kusuyama 1979).




From the Tang period, one begins to find serious attempts to collect
and classify the growing number of *Laozi* commentaries. An
early pioneer is the eighth-century Daoist master Zhang Junxiang, who
cited some thirty commentaries in his study of the *Daodejing*
(Wang 1981). Du Guangting (850-933) provided a larger
collection, involving some sixty commentaries (*Daode zhenjing
guangshengyi*, *Daozang* no. 725). According to Du, there
were those who saw the *Laozi* as a political text, while
others focused on spiritual self-cultivation. There were Buddhist
interpreters (e.g., Kumarajiva and Sengzhao), and there were
those who explained the "Twofold Mystery"
(*chongxuan*). This latter represents an important development
in the history of interpretation of the *Daodejing* (Assandri
2009).




The term "Twofold Mystery" comes from chapter 1 of
the *Laozi*, where Dao is said to be the mystery of all
mysteries, in the sense of an incomparably profound reality beyond
ordinary comprehension (*xuan zhi you xuan*). As a school of
Daoist learning, "Twofold Mystery" seizes this to be the
key to understanding the *Laozi*. Daoist sources relate that
the school goes back to the fourth-century master Sun Deng. Through Gu
Huan (fifth century) and others, the school reached its height during
the Tang period, represented by such thinkers as Cheng Xuanying and Li
Rong in the seventh century. The school reflects the growing
interaction between Daoist and Buddhist thought, particularly
Madhyamika philosophy. Unlike Wang Bi, it sees
"nonbeing" as equally one-sided as "being"
when applied to the transcendence of Dao. Nonbeing may highlight the
profundity or mystery of Dao, but it does not yet reach the highest
truth, which according to Cheng Xuanying can be called the "Dao
of Middle Oneness" (Kohn 1992, 144; Assandri 2009, chs. 4 and
6). Like other polar opposites, the distinction between being and
nonbeing must also be "forgotten" before one can achieve
union with Dao.




The *Laozi* has been viewed in still other ways. For example, a
Tang commentary by Wang Zhen, the *Daodejing lunbing yaoyishu*
(*Daozang* no. 713), presented to Emperor Xianzong
(r. 806-820) in 809, sees the text as a treatise on military
strategy (Rand 1979-80; see also Wang Ming 1984 and Mukai
1994). The diversity of interpretation is truly remarkable (see
Robinet 1998 for a typological analysis). The *Daodejing* was
given considerable imperial attention, with no fewer than eight
emperors having composed or at least commissioned a commentary on the
work. These include Emperor Wu and Emperor Jianwen of the Liang
dynasty, Xuanzong of the Tang, Huizong of the Song, and Taizu of the
Ming dynasty (see Liu Cunren 1969 for a discussion of the last
three).




By the thirteenth century, students of the *Daodejing* were
already blessed, as it were, with an embarrassment of riches, so much
so that Du Daojian (1237-1318) could not but observe that the
coming of the Dao to the world takes on a different form each
time. That is to say, different commentators were shaped by the spirit
of their age in their approach to the classic, so that it would be
appropriate to speak of a "Han *Laozi*,"
"Tang *Laozi*," or
"Song *Laozi*," each with its own agenda
(*Xuanjing yuanzhi fahui*, *Daozang* no. 703).


## 5. Approaches to the *Laozi*




Is the *Laozi* a manual of self-cultivation and government? Is
it a metaphysical treatise, or does it harbor deep mystical
insights?




Chapter 1 of the current *Laozi* begins with the famous words:
"The Way that can be spoken of is not the constant Way."
Chapter 10 speaks of nourishing one's "soul" and embracing
the "One." Chapter 80 depicts the ideal polity as a small
country with few inhabitants.




The *Laozi* is a difficult text. Its language is often cryptic;
the sense or reference of the many symbols it employs remains unclear,
and there seems to be conceptual inconsistencies. For example, whereas
chapter 2 refers to the "mutual production of being and
nonbeing," chapter 40 declares, "Being originates in
nonbeing" (Henricks, trans. 1989). Is it more meaningful to
speak of the "worldviews" of the *Daodejing*,
instead of a unified vision?




If the *Laozi* were an "anthology" put together at
random by different compilers over a long period of time, occasional
inconsistencies need not be an issue. Traditionally, however, this was
never a serious option. Most modern studies are equally concerned to
disclose the "deeper" unity and meaning of the
classic. While some seek to recover the "original" meaning
of the *Laozi*, others celebrate its contemporary
relevance. Consider, first of all, some of the main modern approaches
to the *Daodejing* (cf. Hardy 1998).




One view is that the *Laozi* reflects a deep mythological
consciousness at its core. The myth of "chaos," in
particular, helps shape the Daoist understanding of the cosmos and the
place of human beings in it (Girardot 1983). Chapter 25, for example,
likens the Dao to an undifferentiated oneness. The myth of a great
mother earth goddess may also have informed the worldview of the
*Laozi* (Erkes 1935; Chen 1969), which explains its emphasis on
nature and the feminine (Chen 1989). Chapter 6, for example, refers to
the "spirit of the valley," which is also called the
"mysterious female."




A second view is that the *Laozi* gives voice to a profound
mysticism. According to Victor Mair (1990), it is indebted to Indian
mysticism (see also Waley 1958). According to Benjamin Schwartz
(1985), the mysticism of the *Daodejing* is *sui
generis*, uniquely Chinese and has nothing to do with
India. Indeed, as one scholar suggests, it is unlike other mystical
writings in that ecstatic vision does not play a role in the ascent of
the Daoist sage (Welch 1965, 60). According to another interpretation,
however, there is every indication that ecstasy forms a part of the
world of the *Laozi*, although it is difficult to gauge the
"degree" of its mystical leanings (Kaltenmark 1969, 65). A
more recent champion of the mystical view is Harold Roth, who argues
that Daoist "inner cultivation" and Indian yoga may be
similar, but "they are parallel developments in different
cultures at different times." (Roth 1999, 137).




It is possible to combine the mystical and mythological
approaches. Although the presence of ancient religious beliefs can
still be detected, they have been raised to a "higher"
mystical plane in the *Laozi* (e.g., Ching 1997). Broadly, one
could carve out a third category of interpretations that highlights
the religious significance of the *Laozi*, whether in general
terms or aligned with the tenets of religious Daoism.




A fourth view sees the *Laozi* mainly as a work of philosophy,
which gives a metaphysical account of reality and insight into Daoist
self-cultivation and government; but fundamentally it is not a work of
mysticism (W. T. Chan 1963). The strong practical interest of
the *Laozi* distinguishes it from any mystical doctrine that
eschews worldly involvement. In H. G. Creel's (1977) words, it is
"purposive" and not purely
"contemplative."




Fifth, to many readers the *Laozi* offers essentially a
philosophy of life. Remnants of an older religious thinking may have
found their way into the text, but they have been transformed into a
naturalistic philosophy. The emphasis on naturalness translates into a
way of life characterized by simplicity, calmness, and freedom from
the tyranny of desire (e.g., Liu Xiaogan 1997). For Roger Ames and
David Hall (2003), indeed, the essence of the *Laozi* is
"making this life significant." Unlike the claim that
the *Laozi* espouses a mystical or esoteric teaching directed
at a restricted audience, this view tends to highlight its universal
appeal and contemporary relevance.




Sixth, the *Laozi* is above all concerned with realizing peace
and sociopolitical order. It is an ethical and political masterpiece
intended for the ruling class, with concrete strategic suggestions
aimed at remedying the moral and political turmoil engulfing late Zhou
China. Self-cultivation is important, but the ultimate goal extends
beyond personal fulfillment (Lau 1963, LaFargue 1992, Moeller
2006). The *Laozi* criticizes the Confucian school not only for
being ineffectual in restoring order but more damagingly as a culprit
in worsening the ills of society at that time. The ideal seems to be a
kind of "primitive" society, in the non-pejorative sense
where people would dwell in simplicity, harmony and contentment, not
fettered by ambition or desire (e.g., Needham 1956).




This list is far from exhaustive; there are other views of
the *Laozi*. Chad Hansen (1992), for example, focuses on the
"anti-language" philosophy of the text. Different
combinations are also possible. A. C. Graham, for example, emphasizes
both the mystical and political elements, arguing that the
*Laozi* was probably targeted at the ruler of a small state
(1989, 234). For Hans-Georg Moeller (2006), though a work of political
philosophy in its original context, the *Laozi* offers a
powerful critique of "humanism" that is ethically as
relevant then as it is now. The *Laozi* could be seen as
encompassing all of the above--such categories as the
metaphysical, ethical, political, mystical, and religious form a
unified whole in Daoist thinking and are deemed separate and distinct
only in modern Western thought. Alternatively, coming back to the
question of multiple authorship and coherence, it could be argued that
the *Laozi* contains "layers" of material put
together by different people at different times (Emerson 1995).




Is it fair to say that the *Laozi* is inherently
"polysemic" (Robinet 1998), open to diverse
interpretations? This concerns not only the difficulty of
the *Laozi* but also the interplay between reader and text in
any act of interpretation.




Polysemy challenges the assertion that the "intended"
meaning of the *Laozi* can be recovered fully. But, it is
important to emphasize, it does not follow that context is
unimportant, that parameters do not exist, or that there are no checks
against particular interpretations. While hermeneutic reconstruction
remains an open process, it cannot disregard the rules of
evidence. Questions of provenance, textual variants, as well as the
entire tradition of commentaries and modern scholarship are important
for this reason. And it is for this same reason that the present
article leaves the discussion of the *Laozi* itself till the
end. The following presents some of the main concepts and symbols in
the *Laozi* based on the current text, focusing on the key
conceptual cluster of Dao, *de* (virtue), *ziran*
(naturalness), and *wuwei* (nonaction). I propose that the two
readings represented by the Heshanggong and Wang Bi commentaries both
bring out important insight from the *Laozi*.


## 6. Dao and Virtue




To begin with Dao, the etymology of the Chinese graph or character
suggests a pathway, or heading in a certain direction along a
path. Most commentators agree in translating *dao* as
"way." In early Chinese literature, *dao* generally
depicts a relatively wide thoroughfare or carriage way, and in some
contexts waterways, but it is used also to convey what is deemed the
right or proper course, and by extension the doctrines or teachings
that set forth such a course, or the means and methods that would
bring it about. *Laozi* 53, for example, states, "The
great *dao* is very even (flat, easy to travel on), but people
like (to take) by-ways (*jing*)." The literal sense
of *dao* as a path, contrasted in this instance
with *jing*, a small trail off the main road, is clearly
preserved here, but it is also easy to see how it can be used as a
metaphor, how the extended ethical and spiritual sense of *dao*
comes into the picture.




As a verb, perhaps on account of the directionality
involved, *dao* also conveys the sense of
"speaking." Thus, the opening phrase of chapter 1, *dao
ke dao*, literally "Dao that can be dao-ed," is often
rendered, "The Way that can be spoken of."
Because *dao* is paired with "name" (*ming*)
in the next line--"*ming ke ming*," "the
name that can be named"--forming a parallel couplet
construction, there is thus reason to interpret the verbal usage in
the sense of something verbalized, as opposed to a pathway that is
travelled on, trodden, or followed. This is also how most commentators
in traditional China have understood it: the many normative discourses
that clamor to represent the right way are seen to be fickle, partial
and misleading. In most English translations, the capitalized
form--"Way" or "Dao" (or
"Tao")--is used, to distinguish it from other usages
of the term.




The concept of *dao* is not unique to the *Laozi*. A key
term in the philosophical vocabulary, it informs early Chinese
philosophy as a whole. It is interpreted differently, signifying a
means to a higher end in some writings and as an end in itself in
others. The *Laozi* underscores both the ineffability and
creative power of Dao. This is distinctive and if one accepts the
early provenance of the text, charts a new course in the development
of Chinese philosophy.




The ineffability of Dao is highlighted in chapter 1: the
"constant" (*chang*, also translated as
"eternal"--e.g., W. T. Chan 1963) Dao cannot be
defined or described; it is "nameless." Chapter 14 brings
out clearly that Dao transcends sensory perception; it has neither
shape nor form. Nameless and formless, Dao can only be described as
utterly profound, and in this sense "dark" or
"mysterious" (*xuan*), or as *wu*, literally
"not having" any name, form, or other characteristics of
things (see also chs. 21 and 32). Indeed, though suggestive, the term
"Dao" itself is no more than a symbol--as
the *Laozi* makes clear, "I do not know its name; I style
it Dao" (ch. 25; see also ch. 34). This suggests a sense of
radical transcendence, which explains why the *Laozi* has been
approached so often as a mystical text.




The concept of *wu* is difficult and has been translated
variously as "nothing," "nothingness," or
"nonbeing." It marks not only the mystery of Dao but also
its limitlessness or inexhaustibility (e.g., ch. 4). Names serve to
delimit, to set boundaries; in contrast, Dao is without limits and
therefore cannot be captured fully by language. This suggests a
positive dimension to transcendence, which brings into view the
creative power of Dao: "All things under heaven are born of
being (*you*); being is born of
*wu*" (ch. 40). What does this mean?




Elsewhere in the *Laozi*, Dao is said to be the
"beginning" of all things (chs. 1, 25). Daoist creation
involves a process of differentiation from unity to multiplicity:
"Dao gives birth to One; One gives birth to Two; Two gives birth
to Three; Three gives birth to the ten thousand things"
(ch. 42). The text does not indicate tense or spell out what the
numbers refer to--is it saying that something called the
"One" produced or produces the "Two" in the
sense of two other things?




The "nothingness" of Dao helps impose certain constraints
on interpretation. Specifically, the idea of a creator god with
attributes, like the "Lord on High" (Shangdi) in ancient
Chinese religion, does not seem to fit with the emphasis on
transcendence.




The dominant interpretation in traditional China is that Dao
represents the source of the original, undifferentiated,
essential *qi*-energy, the "One," which in turn
produces the yin and yang cosmic forces. While the
"lighter," more rarefied yang energy-stuff rises to form
heaven, the "heavier" yin solidifies to become earth. A
further "blending" of the two generates a
"harmonious" *qi*-energy that informs human
beings.




This is essentially the reading of the Heshanggong
commentary. Although the *Laozi* may not have entertained a
fully developed yin-yang cosmological theory, which took shape during
the Han period, it does suggest at one point that natural phenomena
are constituted by yin and yang: the "ten thousand things"
or myriad creatures, as it rather lyrically puts it, "carry yin
on their backs and embrace yang with their arms" (ch. 42). That
which gave rise to the original *qi*-energy, however, is
indescribable. The *Laozi* calls it Dao, or perhaps more
appropriately in this context, "the Dao," with the
definite article, to signal its presence as the source of the created
order.




In modern terms, minus the language of yin-yang cosmology, this
translates into an understanding of the Dao as "an absolute
entity which is the source of the universe," as the *Oxford
English Dictionary* (online edition, under "Tao")
defines it. Not being anything in particular, the Dao may be described
as "nothing" (*wu*). However, on this
reading, *wu* does not mean "nothingness,"
"negativity" or absence in the nihilistic sense, in view
of the creative power of the Dao.




Alternatively, one could argue that Dao signifies a conceptually
necessary ontological ground; it does not refer to any indescribable
original substance or energy. "Beginning" is not a term of
temporal reference but suggests ontological priority in
the *Laozi*.




The process of creation does proceed from unity to multiplicity, but
the *Laozi* is only concerned to show that "two"
would be impossible without the idea of "one." The
assertion in *Laozi* 42, "One gives birth to Two,"
affirms that duality presupposes unity; to render it as "The One
gave birth to the Two" is to turn what is essentially a logical
relation into a cosmological event.




As the source of being, Dao cannot be itself a being, no matter how
powerful or perfect; otherwise, the problem of infinite regress cannot
be overcome. For this reason, the *Laozi* makes use of the
concept of *wu*, "nonbeing," not to suggest a
substance or something of which nothing can be said, but to signify
the conceptual "otherness" and radical transcendence of
the ground of being.




This agrees with Wang Bi's interpretation. If *wu* points to a
necessary ontological foundation, the distinction between
"Dao" and "One" seems redundant. Commenting on
chapter 42 of the *Laozi*, Wang Bi writes, "One can be
said to be *wu*"; "One is the beginning of numbers
and the ultimate of things" (commentary on ch. 39; see also
Wang's commentary on the *Yijing*, trans. in Lynn 1994,
60). The concept of "One" and the concept of *wu*
thus complement each other in disclosing different aspects of the
logic of creation--both unity and nonbeing are necessary for
understanding the generation of beings.




Comparing the two interpretations, whereas the first,
"cosmological" reading has to explain the sense in which
the Dao can be said to be "nothing," the second emphasizes
the centrality of *wu*, "nonbeing," for which
"Dao" is but one designation. For the latter, Dao is
entirely conceptual, whereas the former envisages the Dao as referring
to a mysterious substance or energy that brings about the cosmos and
continues to sustain and regulate it. Depending on the
interpretation, *wu* may be translated as "nothing"
or "nonbeing" accordingly. The latter may be awkward, but
it serves to alert the reader that the nothingness or emptiness of Dao
may not be understood referentially or reduced simply to the fullness
of *qi*.




In light of the interest in cosmology during the Warring States
period, the cosmological reading may be privileged, but
the *Laozi* is also open to an ontological interpretation. Both
are philosophically potent. At one level, the ontological reading may
accommodate the *qi*-based yin-yang cosmology, although there
is significant divergence in the interpretation of the ethics of
the *Laozi*, as we shall see in the next section. In either
case, the metaphor of "Dao" is apt. It shows that all
things are derived ultimately from an absolute
"beginning," in either sense of the word, like the start
of a pathway. It also suggests a direction to be followed, which
brings out the ethical interest of the *Laozi*.




The *Daodejing* is concerned with both Dao and *de*. The
graph *de* has also made it into the *Oxford English
Dictionary*: "In Taoism, the essence of Tao inherent in all
beings"; "in Confucianism and in extended use, moral
virtue." *De* has been translated variously as virtue,
potency, efficacy, integrity, or power (for an etymological study, see
Nivison 1978-79, and Hall and Ames 1987, 216).




Like Dao, *de* is a general concept open to diverse
interpretation. The Confucian understanding of *de* is by no
means uniform (A. Chan 2011). While some early Ru scholars emphasize
in their interpretation of "virtue" the roles and
responsibilities embedded in the network of kinship ties and
sociopolitical relationships that constitute the ethical realm, others
focus on the formation of individual moral character through
self-cultivation. Confucius may have emphasized the latter, but there
is ample evidence in the *Analects* and other Confucian works
testifying to the importance of the former as well. The *Laozi*
seems to be suggesting a "higher" *de* against any
moral achievement attained through repeated effort (e.g., ch. 38). The
different translations mentioned above aim at bringing out the
perceived uniquely Daoist understanding of *de*.




Admittedly, "virtue" is ambiguous, and in Latin, as many
scholars have noted, "*virtus*" has more to do with
strength and capacity than moral virtues. Nevertheless, there are
advantages to translating *de* as "virtue," as it
keeps in the foreground that the *Laozi* is giving new meaning
to an established concept, as opposed to introducing a new concept not
found in other schools of Chinese philosophy. From this perspective,
both Laozi and Confucius are interpreters of *de*-virtue.




The marriage of Dao and *de* effectively bridges the gap
between transcendence and immanence. Traditional commentaries
beginning with the *Hanfeizi* often play on the homonymic
relation between *de* (virtue) and another graph also
pronounced *de*, which means to "acquire" or
"obtain" something. *De* is thus what one has
"obtained" from (the) Dao, a "latent power" by
"virtue" of which any being becomes what it is (Waley
1958, 32). In this sense, the *Laozi* speaks of *de* as
that which nourishes all beings (e.g., ch. 51).




Within these parameters, interpretations of *de* follow from
the understanding of Dao and *wu*. On the one hand, for
Heshanggong and other proponents of the cosmological view, what one
has obtained from the Dao refers specifically to one's *qi*
endowment, which determines one's physical, intellectual, affective,
moral, and spiritual capacity. Read this way, the
title *Daodejing* should be translated as the "Classic of
the Way and *Its* Virtue," given that *de* is
understood to have emanated from the Dao.




On the other hand, for Wang Bi and others who do not subscribe to a
substantive view of Dao, *de* represents what is
"genuine" or "authentic" (*zhen*) in
human beings (e.g., see Wang Bi's commentary on *Laozi* chs. 3,
5, 16, 51). Because *wu* does not refer to any substance or
cosmological power, what the *Laozi* means by *de*, the
"virtue" that one has "obtained" from Dao, can
only be understood as what is originally, naturally present in human
beings.




In either case, the concept of *de* emerges as a Daoist
response to the question of human nature, which was one of the most
contested issues in early Chinese philosophy. The two readings of
the *Laozi*, despite their differences, agree that it is an
inherent *de* that enables a person to conform to the way in
which Dao operates. "Virtue" may be corrupted easily, but
when realized, it radiates the full embodiment of the Dao understood
in terms of *qi* on Heshanggong's view, or the flourishing of
authenticity on Wang Bi's interpretation. As such, Dao points to not
only the "beginning" but also through *de* the
"end" of all things.


## 7. Naturalness and Nonaction




The *Laozi* makes use of the concept of *ziran*,
literally what is "self (*zi*) so (*ran*),"
to describe the workings of Dao. As an abstract
concept, *ziran* gives no specific information, except to say
that Dao is not derived from or "modeled" (*fa*)
after anything (ch. 25). However, since "heaven and
earth"--interpreted as nature in most modern
studies--are said to be born of Dao and come to be in virtue of
their *de*, the *Laozi* is in effect saying that the
ways of nature reflect the function of Dao.




In a cosmological reading, this suggests an understanding of nature as
governed by the operation of *qi* energies in an ideal yin-yang
system characterized by harmony and fecundity. As interpreted by Wang
Bi, the *Laozi* means more generally that there are
"principles" (*li*) inherent in nature.




Human beings are, in turn, born of heaven and earth and so are
"modeled" after them, either in terms of
their *qi*-constitution or in the sense that they are governed
also by the same basic principles. Usually translated as
"naturalness" or "spontaneity," *ziran*
thus builds on the concept of *de* in suggesting not only that
the power of Dao finds expression in nature, but also at the practical
level a mode of being and way of action in accordance with the ways of
nature.




Nature in the Daoist sense, it is important to note, need not exclude
the spiritual and the social. The existence of gods and spirits, which
can be understood also as being constituted by *qi* energies,
was hardly questioned in early China. The *Laozi* makes clear
that they, too, stem from Dao and form a part of the order of
*ziran* (e.g., chs. 39, 60).



 
Further, nature encompasses not only natural phenomena but also
sociopolitical institutions. The king clearly occupies a central place
in the realm of Dao (chs. 16, 25); the family also should be regarded
as a "natural" institution (chs. 18, 54). As an ethical
concept, *ziran* thus extends beyond the personal to the
sociopolitical level. It is worth mentioning that *ziran*
remains an influential idea today, especially in conceptions of love,
beauty, and one's attitude toward life and death in Chinese
thinking.




The concept of *wuwei*, "nonaction," serves to
explain naturalness in practice. Like "nonbeing,"
"nonaction" is awkward, and some translators prefer
"non-assertive action," "non-coercive action"
or "effortless action"; but it identifies *wuwei*
as a technical term. For this reason, I prefer
"nonaction," or better still, retaining *wuwei* in
its transliterated form and explaining what it means in
the *Laozi.*



*Wuwei* does not mean total inaction. Later Daoists often
emphasize the close connection between *wuwei* and techniques
of spiritual cultivation--the practice of "sitting in
forgetfulness" (*zuowang*) and "fasting of the
mind" (*xinzhai*) discussed in the *Zhuangzi* are
singled out as prime examples in this regard. In the *Laozi*,
while meditation and other forms of spiritual practice may be
envisaged, the concept of *wuwei* seems to be used more broadly
as a contrast against any form of action characterized by self-serving
desire (e.g., chs. 3, 37).




It is useful to recall the late Zhou context, where disorder marched
on every front. The *Laozi*, one assumes, is not indifferent to
the forces of disintegration tearing the country asunder, although the
remedy it proposes is subject to interpretation. The problems of
political decline are traced to excessive desire, a violation
of *ziran*. Naturalness encompasses basic human needs, of
course, but these are to be distinguished from desire that fuels and
inflates self-gratification, which knows no end. Nonaction entails at
the personal level simplicity and quietude, which naturally follow
from having few desires. At the political level, the *Laozi*
condemns aggressive measures such as war (ch. 30), cruel punishment
(ch. 74), and heavy taxation (ch. 75), which reflect but the ruler's
own desire for wealth and power. If the ruler could rid himself of
desire, the *Laozi* boldly declares, the world would be at
peace of its own accord (chs. 37, 57).




In this sense, the *Laozi* describes the ideal sage-ruler as
someone who understands and follows *ziran* (e.g., chs. 2, 17,
64). In this same sense, it also opposes the Confucian program of
benevolent intervention, which as the *Laozi* understands it,
addresses at best the symptoms but not the root cause of the
disease. The Confucian project is in fact symptomatic of the decline
of the rule of Dao. Conscious efforts at cultivating moral virtues
only accentuate the loss of natural goodness, which in its original
state would have been entirely commonplace and would not have
warranted distinction or special attention (chs. 18, 38). Worse,
Confucian ethics assumes that learning and moral self-cultivation can
bring about personal and social improvement. From the Daoist
perspective, artificial effort to "change" people,
"improve" things or to "correct" the order
of *ziran* only perpetuates a false sense of self that
alienates human beings from their inherent "virtue."




The concept of nonaction is exceedingly rich. It brings into play a
cutting discernment that value distinctions are ideological, that
human striving and competitive strife spring from the same
source. Nonaction entails also a critique of language and conventional
knowledge, which to the Daoist sage has become impregnated with
ideological contaminants.




The use of paradoxes in the *Laozi* especially heightens this
point. For example, the person of Dao is depicted as
"witless" or "dumb," whereas people driven by
desire appear intelligent and can scheme with cunning (ch. 20). The
way of learning, as one would normally understand it,
"increases" the store of knowledge and adds value to goods
and services; in contrast, questioning the very meaning of such
knowledge and value, the *Laozi* describes the pursuit of Dao
as constantly "decreasing" or chipping away at the
artifice built by desire (ch. 48).




Driving home the same point, to cite but one more example,
the *Laozi* states, "The highest virtue is not virtuous;
therefore it has virtue" (ch. 38). In other words, those who
fully realize "virtue" in the Daoist sense do not act in
the way that men and women of conventional morality typically act or
are expected to act. Paradoxes of this kind function as a powerful
rhetorical device, which forces the readers, so to speak, to move out
of their "comfort zone," to wake up from their dogmatic
slumber, and to take note of the proposed higher truth of Dao (see
also, e.g., chs. 41, 45, 56). In this context, one can also understand
some of the provocative statements in the *Laozi* telling the
ruler, for example, to keep the people in a state of
"ignorance" (ch. 65).




Some scholars would object that this interpretation misses the
religious import of the *Daodejing*, while others would
question whether it is too eager to defend the philosophical coherence
of the classic. Perhaps the *Laozi* in chapter 65 of the
current text did mean to tell the ruler literally to keep the people
ignorant or stupid for better control, which as a piece of political
advice is not exactly extraordinary. The remarks offered here take
nonaction as central to the Daoist view of life, recognizing that the
concept of *wuwei* does not only initiate a critique of value
but also points to a higher mode of knowledge, action, and being.




At the critical level, the *Laozi* emphasizes the relativity of
knowledge and value. Things appear big or small, for example, only in
relation to other things; knowledge and ignorance are meaningful only
in relation to each other. Good and bad, being and nonbeing, and other
opposites should be understood in the same light (ch. 2).




Distinctions as such are not necessarily problematic; for example, an
object can be described as rare or difficult to find as compared with
other objects. Problems arise, however, when objects that are rare are
deemed more valuable than commonplace objects, when "big"
is deemed superior to "small," or in general terms when
distinctions become a basis for value discrimination. When certain
things or features (e.g., precious stones, reputation, being slim,
skin color) are regarded as "beautiful" or
"worthy"--i.e., desirable--other things will
inevitably be deemed "ugly" and "unworthy,"
with serious social, economic, and political consequences (ch. 3).




The recognition of the relativity of value does not end in a kind of
moral relativism or ethical paralysis. The deconstruction of
conventional beliefs and values opens the door to deeper reflection on
the order of *ziran.* The *Laozi* also does not appear
to be advocating the obliteration of all distinctions, and by
extension civilization as a whole, in a state of mystical oneness. For
example, while there is some concern that technology may bring a false
sense of progress, the antidote does not lie in a deliberate rejection
of technology but rather in a life of natural simplicity and
contentment that stems from having few desires (ch. 80).




In this way, the apparent conceptual inconsistency in
the *Laozi* can be resolved. On the one hand, there is little
reason to equate, for example, "hardness" with strength
and assign a higher value to it over "softness." However,
once such value discrimination is shown to be arbitrary,
the *Laozi* can make use of qualities such as softness,
weakness or yieldingness (e.g., ch. 78) to intimate the Daoist way of
life as grounded in nonaction. In this same way, the *Laozi*
can therefore also speak of Daoist virtue as the "highest
good" (ch. 8) and "highest virtue"
(ch. 38). *Wuwei* ultimately derives its meaning
from *wu*, which as an ethical orientation privileges
"not having" over the constant strivings of the mundane
world. This constitutes a radical critique of a world given to the
pursuit of wealth and power. More important, in being
"empty," the person of Dao is shown to be
"full"; without desire, he or she is able to rediscover
the riches of *ziran* and finds fulfillment.




The critique of value demonstrates the way in which desire
(*yu*) perverts the mind--*xin*, literally,
"heart," but understood as the seat of both cognition and
affectivity--and colors our judgment and experience of
reality. Desire is a complex concept. Fundamentally, it depicts the
movement of the mind as it is drawn to things it finds agreeable
(e.g., pleasure) or away from things it dislikes (e.g.,
pain). Phenomenologically, the mind is always in motion. Calmness or
tranquility of mind does not mean the cessation of all cognitive or
affective movement. Rather, from this perspective, it is the act of
desiring that transgresses the order of nature, resulting in a
plethora of desires pulling the mind in different directions, that is
seen to be at the heart of the problem. Nonaction contrasts sharply,
according to the *Laozi*, with the way people typically act in
a world in which the rule of Dao no longer prevails, with profit
motives, calculated steps, expectations, longings, regrets, and other
expressions of desire. Put differently, nonaction would be
"normal" action in the pristine order of nature, in which
the mind is at peace, free from the incessant stirring of desire.




As a philosophical concept, *wuwei* intimates a mode of being
that governs existential engagement at all levels, transforming the
way in which we think, feel, and experience the world. It does not
stipulate what one ought to do or ought not to do in particular
cases. Terms such as quietude, emptiness, and simplicity favored by
the *Laozi* describe a general ethical orientation rather than
specific practices. Although in following *wuwei* there are
things that a person of Dao naturally would not do (e.g., wage a war
of aggression), and there is a sense in which doing less may be more
productive than self-conscious over-exertion,
philosophically *wuwei* is not about not doing certain things
(thus, military engagement is not ruled out entirely--e.g., see
chs. 67, 68, 69) but suggests a reorientation of perception and value
that ideally would bring an end to the dominance of desire and a
return to the order of *ziran*.




Again, nonaction need not exclude spiritual practice--ethics and
spirituality generally form an integral whole in the Daoist
frame--rather, the point is that once realized, the
transformative power of nonaction would ensure not only personal
fulfillment but also sociopolitical order. This seems to weigh against
a strictly mystical reading of the *Laozi*, if mysticism is
understood to entail a kind of personal union with the Dao
transcending all political interests. The concept of
"virtue," whether interpreted in terms of authenticity or
the purity and fullness of *qi*-energy, depicts a pristine
natural and sociopolitical order in which naturalness and nonaction
are the norm. The ethics of *wuwei* rests on this insight.




To elaborate, *wuwei* as an ethical-spiritual ideal entails
that the man of Dao, the sage, would be free from the disquieting
movement of desire. This would naturally find expression in a mode of
being and action characterized by not doing certain things (e.g.,
binge drinking) or doing less of certain things (e.g., consumption of
alcohol). This is different from the argument that *wuwei*
prescribes not doing or doing less of certain things, if such
prescription requires deliberate effort. As a guide to recovering or
attaining that ideal, there may be room for the ruler to impose
conditions that would lead to a diminishing of desire-driven action;
but this is not quite ideal *wuwei*. Similarly, although it may
be said that nonaction points to a state of mind in which one does
everything that one does, it is on the understanding that in that
ideal state certain actions simply would not occur as a matter of
course, as the mind would not be aroused and move in their
direction. For example, to argue that there is a qualitatively
different *wuwei* way of stealing or gambling would not be
meaningful in the world of the *Laozi*, because such action
would not arise in the ideal realm of naturalness.




To elaborate further, consider the ideal ethical situation in the
cosmological reading of the *Laozi* as represented by the
Heshanggong commentary. The dispensation of *qi* gives rise to
a pristine hierarchical order in which those who are blessed with a
perfect *qi* endowment, the rare sages, would govern the
majority. It can be assumed that the sages are naturally predisposed
to quietude, whereas the common people are driven by desire in varying
degree. Indeed, at one point, the *Laozi* seems to distinguish
three different grades of human beings (ch. 41), which on this view
would be the result of their unequal *qi* endowment. The role
of the sage-ruler, then, would be to guide the people to abide by
simplicity through personal charisma and example, and also by means of
policies designed to cultivate an environment in which desire would
not run rampant. In the absence of a true sage-ruler,
the *Laozi* is saying, according to this interpretation, those
in power should emulate the Daoist sage, cultivate their
internal *qi* energies, and bring about peace and harmony
through naturalness and nonaction.




An ontological reading can accommodate the theory that heaven and
earth and the "ten thousand things" are all constituted
by *qi*. The decisive difference is that on this account, human
beings all share the same essential nature, as distinguished from
their *qi*-constituted capacities. For example, some people may
be better endowed and therefore could live to a ripe old age, while
others with a poorer endowment may die prematurely; but this does not
detract from the fundamental assertion that they share the same
inherent *de*, which defines their nature.




Sages are not a different kind of being, god-like, with a radically
different nature; rather, they are individuals who manage to realize
their authentic *de* to the full. Unlike the cosmological
interpretation which essentially traces "sagehood" to a
special inborn sage-nature, the idea of an authentic ontological core
assures the possibility of attaining sagehood. Being one with Dao does
not describe any mystical union with a divine source or sacred power,
but reflects a mode of being that accords with the assumed original
nature marked by natural goodness and the absence of excessive
desire. Because the world is in a state of decline, the *Laozi*
therefore speaks of a "return" to Dao, to naturalness and
nonaction.




Regardless of the position one takes, in this general interpretive
framework a number of symbols which both delight and puzzle readers of
the *Laozi* can be highlighted. Suggestive of its creativity
and nurturance, Dao is likened to a mother (e.g., chs. 1, 25). This
complements the paradigm of the feminine (e.g., chs. 6, 28), whose
"virtue" is seen to yield fecundity and to find expression
in yieldingness and non-contention. The infant (e.g., chs. 52, 55)
serves as a fitting symbol on two counts. First, it brings out the
relationship between Dao and world; second, the kind of innocence and
wholesome spontaneity represented by the infant exemplifies the
pristine fullness of *de* in the ideal Daoist world.




Natural symbols such as water (e.g., chs. 8, 78) further reinforce the
sense of yielding and deep strength that characterizes nonaction. The
low-lying and fertile valley (e.g., chs. 28, 39) accentuates both the
creative fecundity of Dao and the gentle nurturance of its
power. Carefully crafted and ornately decorated objects are treasured
by the world, and as such can be used as a powerful symbol for it. In
contrast, the utterly simple, unaffected, and seemingly
valueless *pu*, a plain uncarved block of wood, brings into
sharp relief the integrity of Daoist virtue and of the person who
embodies it (e.g., chs. 28, 32). Finally, one may mention the notion
of reversal (e.g., chs. 40, 65), which suggests not only the need to
"return" to Dao, but also that the Daoist way of life
would inevitably appear the very opposite of "normal"
existence, and that it involves a complete revaluation of values.




In sum, any interpretation of the current *Laozi* as a whole
must take into account (a) the "nothingness" of Dao and
(b) the way in which *wuwei* and *ziran* provide a guide
to the good life.




With respect to the latter, it is true that in many chapters the text
seems to be addressing the ruler or the ruling elite, explaining to
them the ideal government of the Daoist sage. This is not surprising
given the Zhou context and given that the production of written
documents and the access to them were generally the preserve of the
ruling class in ancient China. However, this need not restrict
interpretation to politics in the narrow sense of statecraft or
political strategies. In the light of the emphasis on
*ziran* and *wuwei*, there is sufficient evidence that
the *Laozi* views politics in a larger ethical-spiritual
context, in which the flourishing of sociopolitical order is rooted in
self-cultivation.




In the final analysis, naturalness and nonaction are seen to reflect
the function of the nameless and formless Dao. As such, Daoist ethical
ideals are anchored in a non-empirical, idealized view of
nature. Specifically, the ethics of the *Laozi* rests on the
understanding that *de* is inherent in nature, or better, the
Daoist world. It is on this basis that the concept of *de* is
raised to a higher level than "virtues" in the sense of
moral attainments. Perhaps for this reason, the *Laozi* did not
resort to the language of "human nature" (*xing*)
commonly employed in early Chinese philosophy.




The understanding of *de*, however, is dependent on that of
Dao, which in turn hinges on the interpretation of *wu* as
either original substance or nonbeing. Both readings are plausible and
are within the semantic range of the *Laozi*. Whereas the
former subscribes to the prevalent *qi* theory that underlies
much of Chinese philosophy and on that basis provides an integrated
view of the cosmos, self-cultivation and government, the latter
focuses on the fundamental unity of being characterized by natural
simplicity and quietude that ideally should define the ethical course
for both the individual and society.




The *Laozi* should be recognized as a seminal work. It is
profoundly insightful; but it is the task of the interpreter to work
out the full implications of its often provocative insight. It seems
reasonable to assume that while the *Laozi* has something new
to offer, it nonetheless shares certain background ideas and
assumptions with other early Chinese philosophical texts. As such, the
cosmological interpretation should be given due
consideration. However, in bringing into view the nothingness of Dao
and the order of *ziran*, the *Laozi* invites reflection
on the very core of being beyond any cosmological assumptions. While
the production of meaning is context dependent, new horizons do emerge
from great works of philosophy. The two lines of interpretation
outlined here have different ethical implications regarding the nature
of the ideal sage, but neither can be said to have transgressed the
hermeneutic boundaries of the *Daodejing*. The suggestion that
they both arise from the *Laozi* is not a matter of
equivocation but an acknowledgement of its hermeneutical depth (for a
good set of essays incorporating the latest scholarship on
the *Laozi*, see Liu 2015).




The power of the *Daodejing* does not lie in a clearly laid out
set of doctrines, but in its seminal insights. The concept
of *qi* may be culture specific, and the prospects of realizing
universal Daoist order may seem remote, but the recognition of the
fundamental problem of desire should still give us pause. The ills of
discrimination, exploitation and intellectual hubris, so deeply
embedded in language and value systems, remain as serious today as
they were in early China. The healing power of nonaction still strikes
a chord and commands continuing reflection and engagement. Although in
working out these insights differences will no doubt arise, they unite
all interpreters of the *Laozi* and draw new generations of
readers into the mystery of Dao and (its) virtue.