Mencius’ strong support for traditional Confucian philosophy and vehement opposition to the views of the Mohist interpretations were not accepted by all. The earliest opponent whose writings survive was Xünzi, whose name, ‘Master Xün’, like Mozi and Mencius before him, refers to both the man and his writings. To distinguish the man and his book, we shall refer to Xünzi the philosopher as Xün, and to the book as the Xünzi.
Xün is referred to in Si-ma Qian’s Shiji. His actual name was Xün Kuang or Xün Qing, and he came from the state of Zhao. He followed the pattern of previous Confucian philosophers, in that when he was fifty years old he travelled to the state of Qi and played a prominent role in the Jixia Academy, which was a major centre of learning. This did not, of course, guarantee that his ideas would be practised by either Zhao or Qi, since the headlong destruction of the Warring States continued to accelerate, and pragmatism was more valuable than abstract philosophy.
To judge from his writings Xün was primarily concerned with human ethics, which he viewed as a somewhat separate matter from the affairs of Heaven or the World. Thus he deals in some detail with matters of human culture, which he sees as self-sufficient, albeit on a stage in which Heaven and Earth are an integral part of the scenery. Mainstream Confucianism, as we have seen, paid specific regard particularly to the relationship between Man (particularly the Superior Man or ruler) and Tian, or Heaven. This difference in approach leads Xün to specific points of difference from mainstream Confucianism, as we shall see when we look in more detail at the Xünzi.
In contrast to the earlier writings carrying the names of Confucius and Mencius, it is believed that Xün Kuang himself wrote much of the contents of the Xünzi, so we have a much more direct route into his thinking than we do into that of his predecessors.
The style of the book is much more systematically argued than the more anecdotal and personal Mengzi, and it sets out to present logical arguments for its propositions.
It is generally held that the main difference between Xün and Mencius is that while Mencius argued that the nature of mankind is inherently good, Xün considered that it was inherently evil but amenable to improvement by education. This, however, is a consequence of Xün’s underlying thought, which can be seen from a passage in Chapter 17 of the Xünzi, where Xün is describing the nature of the tripartite division of Heaven, Earth and Mankind:
Tian is characterised by its seasons. Di [
, the Earth] is characterised by its wealth of resources. Mankind is characterised by its powers of organisation; this is what we call being able to be a member of the Three.
Later in the same chapter, Xün discusses how the affairs of Tian, Di and mankind are separate, and in Confucian manner calls on the Book of Odes to give him suitable back-up:
The Book of Odes says:
’Tian made the high mountain,
The great King brought it under cultivation
That was its beginning.
King Wen made it prosper’
That is what we mean by it.
By citing this poem, Xün is linking the roles of Tian in creating the mountain, Di in providing the plants which might be cultivated and mankind in having the applied skill to work with the materials provided by Tian and Di.
Because mankind had no interactive relationship with Tian or Di, Xün held that mankind had no inbuilt moral/ethical basis, and that therefore this aspect of humanity had to be inculcated by education. In contrast to Mencius’ homely parable of the child about to topple into a well, Chapter 23 of the Xünzi opens uncompromisingly:
Human nature is evil. Any goodness is spurious. Nowadays the nature of mankind from birth is to acquire a love of profit, and following from this love, rapacity flourishes and courtesy is swept away. From birth, mankind is incorrigibly evil, and following from this evil nature, vicious homicides flourish and loyal sincerity is swept away. From birth, mankind enjoys the senses of sight and sound, and is seduced by sounds and colours, and from this seduction immoral disorder flourishes, and Rites and righteous conduct are swept away. This being the case, then to follow human nature and human feelings always results in rapacity combined with opposition to duty and overthrowing of order, and so a descent into violence.
Therefore it is essential to adopt a transformation by teaching law, and the Dao of Rites and righteous conduct. If this is done, then the consequence will be the emergence of courtesy combined with order, and a return to true governance.
Having established this theory, Xün later in the same chapter of the Xünzi takes as vigorous a view of Mencius’ theory of innate human goodness as Mencius before him had taken of the philosophical line of Yang Zhu and Mo Di:
Mencius said that human nature is good. I say that this is not so. Universally and through all ages, that which has been called ‘good’ is right ordering and peaceful government, while that which has been called ‘evil’ is corruption and chaos. This is the distinction between good and evil. Following Mencius, the goodness of Man would result in right ordering and peaceful government, but that would imply that the Sage Kings on the one hand and Rites and right conduct on the other were the tools of evil [because their control was directed against inherent goodness], and then how could they foster right ordering and peaceful government? Now, since this is not the case, I conclude that it is human nature that is evil.
This approach to human nature, although it was destined to fall out of favour with later Confucian philosophers, would, as we shall see, find supporters among the so-called Legalists of later centuries, and so had a significant influence on the broader canvas of Chinese philosophy.
Another consequence of human nature that concerned Xün was the way in which human society operated. By his time the specialisation of artisans in towns and cities was very well established, so, as we have already seen, different sections of the population depended upon each other’s labour to secure the means of subsistence. His view of human nature led him to believe that two extremes of behaviour would each lead to problems. In Chapter 10 of the Xünzi, he says:
[People] have the same desires and hates, but their desires are many and things are few. Their scarcity inevitably leads to conflict. For this reason the products of a hundred artisans are the means by which one individual is maintained, but the skilled artisan cannot practise two skills at the same time. Nor can anybody hold two offices of state. If people live apart and do not co-operate then the result will be poverty, while if they form a disorganised mob, there will be conflict.
Xün’s answer to this situation was two-fold. In the first place, he argued, it was necessary for there to be an ordered society, so that resources could be efficiently shared among the people, and in the second place, an ordered society could only arise and be maintained if the Rites and righteous behaviour were taught, in which case the human power of reasoning, rather than any innate goodness in human beings, would enable society to be well regulated.
Xün’s approach to the Rites was pragmatic rather than mystical. For example, his attitude to funerary rites was that they served to mark one’s respect for human life and, in particular, for the life of the deceased.
Therefore I say, the sacrifices are inspired by affectionate ideas and thoughtful regard, the outcome of piety and loving respect, the height of propriety and refinement. I, Xün, am not a Sage, so I cannot comprehend them. The Sage comprehends them clearly, skilled rulers follow them effortlessly, lesser officials value them, and the populace at large accept them as their customs. They are regarded by rulers as man-made, but the people regard them as a matter of spirits.
He felt similarly about music, which Confucians regarded as necessary to the regulation of the state, but which, in Xün’s view, was more a question of individual appreciation rather than being an integral part of administration. His view, similar to his view of the Rites, is expressed as:
Therefore I say this as far as the appreciation of music is concerned. The ruler establishes his Dao by music; petty men satisfy their desires by music.
Xün is also concerned with another of the recurring topics of Confucianism that we have encountered – the question of correct naming of things. As we shall see in the next chapter, this may in fact have arisen because of the use of the character script which had evolved in China over time, but it was clearly felt that for good administration the name of a thing had to correspond to the reality. Xün devotes a complete chapter of the Xünzi to this topic, and early in the chapter he says:
Should one arise who has the attributes of a true king, he will inevitably be one who conforms to ancient names, and is active in making new names.… Therefore when one who is a true king has instituted a name, the corresponding reality is distinct. His will can be put into effect because the Dao has been followed and so by his careful lead he unites the populace at large.
Xün believed that failure to control the application of names would lead to utter confusion:
Therefore to fragment the language and coin names unilaterally, thereby confusing the regular names, is to cause deception of the populace. People will argue about the distinctions [between names], which could be described as a great treason. This crime is as bad as the crime of giving false measure.
Xün’s views on the correct handling of names led him to oppose the arguments of what we know as the philosophical ‘School of Names’ just as vehemently as he opposed Mencius’ view of human nature and the role of Tian in the affairs of the state. We shall see why this was so in the next chapter.
In many ways Xün seems to have provided a ‘reformed’ Confucianism, in which the influences of spiritual forces were demoted and the Confucian view was explained in terms of human behaviour. However, his thought included the idea that ideal rule would come into being if a Sage King were to ascend to the throne, and the people were educated to apply their reason to life so that they would obey the rule of the Sage King and form an ordered society in which individuals cooperated in the interest of the common good. In a time of increasing political and military conflict, Xün felt that only in such circumstances could the whole of China be united under an acceptable administration.
Xün’s version of Confucian philosophy had short- and medium-term influence, but in the longer term the reputation of his immediate followers undermined its survival. The unification of China under a single ruler would be achieved in 221 BCE, and two individuals, Li Si and Han Fei, who took Xün’s teaching to heart, were instrumental in this result. They established a new school of philosophy, Legalism (see chapter 10), whose discipline and cruelty were so extreme that although it served as the political engine of unification under the Qin, it also led to the downfall of that dynasty in a very short space of time. The Legalist philosophical strand was thus discredited and a more conservative form of Confucianism would arise, based largely on the ideas of Confucius and Mencius and ignoring those aspects on which the Legalists had based their administrative ideas.
