The Happiness of the Fish

One day, Chuang Tzu and Hui Tzu took a walk on the bridge arching over the Hao River. At its highest point halfway across, they could look down to see fish swimming in the clear water.

Chuang Tzu sighed and said: “Look how happy the fish are. I envy their happiness!”

Hui Tzu sensed an opportunity to gain an upper hand over his old friend in their ongoing philosophical debate, so he smiled and asked: “You are not a fish. How do you know the fish are happy?”

Chuang Tzu recognized the attack but was unfazed. He shot back: “You are not me. How do you know what is known or unknown to me?”

Hui Tzu had already anticipated this response, so he countered smoothly: “That is correct. I am not you, and therefore I cannot know what is in your mind. By the same reasoning, you are not a fish, and therefore you cannot know what is in the mind of a fish.”

Hui Tzu was quite sure this would end their little debate, with himself as the victor, but Chuang Tzu did not look ready to concede. Seeming just as relaxed as ever, he said: “Let us go back to your first question to me. You said, ‘How do you know the fish are happy?’ You did not ask me if I knew. You asked me how I knew. That means you already knew that I knew.”

Hui Tzu turned Chuang Tzu’s unexpected response over and over in his mind but could not frame a rebuttal. Seeing this reaction, Chuang Tzu laughed. The moment was priceless. He said: “I know, my friend, just by standing here above the Hao River.”