Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Eske Møllgaard
ZHUANGZI LIVED IN THE late fourth century B.C.E. and wrote at least
the first seven chapters of the book that bears his name. The Zhuangzi has
long been admired for its philosophical depth and perhaps even more for
its unsurpassed literary style. In regard to ethics, however, the general
consensus is that Zhuangzi has little to offer. It is often assumed that no
genuine ethical point of view can be found in Zhuangzi, that Zhuangzi is
an amoralist, if not outright immoral. The great twelfth-century Tradi-
tionalist Zhu Xi said that “Laozi still wanted to do something, but Zhuangzi
did not want to do anything at all. He even said that he knew what to do
but just did not want to do it.” Because he was perceived as someone who
shrinks from the task of imposing a moral order on the world, Zhuangzi,
as Wing-tsit Chan points out, “was so much rejected by Chinese thinkers
that since the fifth century, his doctrines have never been propagated by
any outstanding scholar” (178–179). Several modern western scholars also
see in Zhuangzi an ethical relativist or an amoralist. Two recent examples
are Robert Eno, who argues that for Zhuangzi “butchering people might
provide much the same spiritual spontaneity as the dao of butchering
Eske Møllgaard is an assistant professor in the Department of Philosophy and Religious Studies,
Hofstra University, Hempstead, NY 11549-1150.
Journal of the American Academy of Religion June 2003, Vol. 71, No. 2, pp. 347–370
© 2003 The American Academy of Religion
348 Journal of the American Academy of Religion
oxen—as many a samurai might testify” (142), and Chad Hansen, who says
that Zhuangzi is unable to censure even the worst atrocities beyond saying
“it happened”: “The Nazi exterminations were indeed horrible from our
human moral perspective. If we were cockroaches we might have the same
view of scientists who devise hormonal spray which could result in extinc-
tion of cockroaches. . . . Zhuangzi’s relativism does not allow us to say that
1 References to the Zhuangzi are to chapters and lines in Zhuangzi yinde, Harvard–Yenching
confusing and dubious connotations. The original meaning of the term ru, which was used for the
followers of Confucius, is uncertain, and in later periods it is perhaps best rendered with “scholar.”
350 Journal of the American Academy of Religion
3 Translations from The Analects and Mencius are the author’s; page references correspond to
Therefore they had no time for physical labor: “When the concern of the
sages for the common people is like this,” asks Mencius, “how could they
have leisure to plow the fields?” (Mencius 3.A4). Mencius makes sure that
this lofty concern of the Traditionalists is strictly separated from the con-
cerns characteristic of everyday life: “He who makes it his concern that a
hundred mou field is not managed,” says Mencius with contempt, “is a
impossible.5 Therefore, the Zhuangzi does not tire of pointing to the petti-
ness of Traditionalist concern in view of the infinite Open of the world. The
“Autumn Floods” chapter says: “What the [Traditionalist] man of humanity
is concerned about” and “what the committed scholar toils over” is insig-
nificant compared to the “boundlessness” (wuqiong) of the world (17/13).
Zhuangzi’s critique of Traditionalist concern is more specifically expressed
5 I translate ren as “man” because the word is used by Zhuangzi in his technical sense to indicate
that which is opposed to “Heaven” or “Nature” (tian). In this technical sense ren cannot be trans-
lated with “human being,” for the term indicates a limitation of the human to pure artifice, tech-
nical mastery, and domination. For Zhuangzi, the aim is to raise human beings from their fall into
the realm of “man.”
Møllgaard: Zhuangzi’s Religious Ethics 353
being. This exercise is the proper cure for Traditionalist concern, for it
stills the fragmented and anxious efforts that bind tyranny and moralism
together, and it restores the sanity and unity of the Way (dao).
On an even more somber note, Confucius, in the same dialogue, tells
Yan Hui that “knowledge” (zhi) is an “instrument of evil” (xiongqi).6 Here
Zhuangzi has in mind the “sage knowledge” (shengzhi) with which the
THE MUTILATED
Traditionalist moralism and Legalist statecraft combined to create the
traditional Chinese state, which, if only because of its persistence even to
this day, must be regarded as one of the great achievements in human
history. However, in the view of Zhuangzi this unprecedented “achieve-
ment” or “completion” (cheng) violates “life” (sheng). Concretely this
violated life shows up in the Zhuangzi in the form of mutilated persons:
the mutilated criminals, punished by the state, return as exemplary char-
acters to haunt the moralizers. For “someone with a foot cut off is not
restrained by laws and regulations, because he treats blame and praise as
outer. The convict in iron chains will climb high up without fear, for he
has left life and death behind. They have continually been intimidated but
are not ashamed, and they have forgotten about the others. Having for-
got about the others they then become ‘men of Heaven’” (23/76–77). The
irony is that the very punishment that marks the criminal as an outcast
from the world of “man” (ren) transports the mutilated person to the
realm of “Heaven” or “Nature” (tian). Accordingly, the mutilated takes
on the characteristics of Zhuangzi’s perfected person: he is unaffected by
the praise and blame of others; he does not cling to life or fear death; and
the moralists are not able to shame him—in short, he has become a “man
of Heaven” (tianren). Far from being weakened by the punishment, the
mutilated takes on a new “fullness of power” (dechong), namely, the power
that pertains to everything that is heterogeneous in relation to the realm
of man. We see here the connection between the heterogeneous and the
sacred that is well known in anthropology and has been especially em-
phasized by George Bataille.
Zhuangzi himself tells two stories of mutilated persons from the state
of Lu, where Confucius had been police commissioner. There was, writes
Zhuangzi, a man from Lu with a chopped foot, who attracted just as many
followers as Confucius. In fact, Confucius himself acknowledged that there
was something “unique” (du) about this mutilated person, who perceived
the “unity” (yi) of things and “looked at the loss of his foot as casting off
some soil” (5/1–8). In the other and longer story Zhuangzi says that once
Møllgaard: Zhuangzi’s Religious Ethics 355
a man from Lu with a chopped-off foot, Shushan the toeless, “came walk-
ing on his heels to see Confucius,” but Confucius refuses him instruction
because he has been unable to preserve his body “whole” (quan).7 The
mutilated answers Confucius: “I just did not understand the affairs of the
world and was careless in using my body, and therefore I lost my foot.
Now I have come here, for I still preserve something that is more pre-
7 I adopt Victor Mair’s translation of names and chapter titles in the Zhuangzi.
356 Journal of the American Academy of Religion
and therefore he has put himself beyond saving. Laozi, however, suggests
that perhaps the moralist could still be saved. He says: “Could we not just
have him consider life and death as one strand and consider affirming [ke]
and denying [buke] as a single string, and free him from his shackles?” In
other words, could Confucius not be set free by absorbing a bit of Daoism?
No, says the mutilated—and this above all shows Zhuangzi’s hand: here
being abolished first, really come to view. For, paradoxically, the moral
experience is lost in our concern with morality. Or, as Cua puts it, moral
doctrines have a tendency “to regard all human actions and affairs as sub-
sumable within a corpus of moral principles and rules, thus blinding us
to the heart of moral experience as a live and significant experience. To
abide by moral distinctions, whether they are embedded in moral tra-
very close to the ethics we find in the Zhuangzi. We must, however, dis-
agree with Cua when he takes Zhuangzi’s “tao-attitude” to be a kind of
“perceptual intuition of doing the right thing in particular situations and
contexts” (314). This view is mistaken for at least two reasons. First,
Zhuangzi is arguing not against a morality of principles but against Tra-
ditionalist morality, which itself is largely context dependent and relies
and that it is not an apology for being apolitical. In his critique of power,
says Billeter, Zhuangzi goes to “its very principle” (son principe même):
Zhuangzi shows how power is rooted at the level of intersubjective rela-
tions and of consciousness itself (1996: 865, 875).
For Zhuangzi, the realm of “man” (ren) is totally dominated by power.
Only with death will the regime of domination of one person over the
Therefore Yao did not possess others, nor was he being possessed by oth-
ers. I wish you would throw off your weariness, get rid of your worries,
and wander unique together with the Way in the land of vast emptiness”
(20/21–22). As Billeter points out, we have here not just an unrealistic
invitation to renounce all practical involvement with running a state. The
real significance of the passage is philosophical, psychological, and even
8 The word ren, “humanity,” is different from but closely related to the word ren, “human being,”
sense of the “right” (yi), become the basis for “humane government”
(renzheng). But, as Kant would point out, there is nothing in this pic-
ture that in principle can prevent Traditionalist morality from degen-
erating into favoritism, nepotism, the merely strategic use of reason, and
even despotism. The Zhuangzi, as we have seen, confirms that this, in
fact, was the actual outcome of Traditionalist morality.
law. Mencius’s maxim breaks with the gradual approximation to the ideal
in Mencius’s own notion of “extension” (tui), and it promises an imme-
diate translation of willing into acting and obtaining—a spontaneity that
is also characteristic of the moral will in Kant. In Mencius, at least in this
moment in Mencius, the endless approximation to the goal through self-
cultivation falls away and the moral law takes effect immediately.
Zhuangzi’s maxim expresses that nonwilling that alone sets the other free
to will or not will, that is to say, free for the moral law.) Zhuangzi’s maxim
negates all this, but this does not mean that we cannot give positive con-
tent to Zhuangzi’s maxim and his moral picture in general. In conclusion,
let us see what positive content one can deduce from Zhuangzi’s maxim.
This can only be done in a sketchy fashion and in view of an understand-
from the cross-bow trigger,” that is to say, our moral judgments become
deadly for others. According to Zhuangzi, something needs to “exist” (cun)
and be “settled” (an) in us before we begin to think about ordering the
world, otherwise the result will only be more violence. What needs to exist
first of all is the ethical subject, which, as I have said, in Zhuangzi is con-
stituted by the split between Heaven and man. In other words, what needs
that can only do what it is programmed to do. In neither case does the ethi-
cal come into play. The “choice” to situate oneself in-between Heaven and
man breaks with mechanical action, whether by nature or by culture, and
first makes possible the ability to will or not will, which is the necessary pre-
requisite for ethical choice.
But have we not said, following Billeter, that for Zhuangzi the funda-
9 For a discussion of the idea of wuwei in ancient China, see the recent article in JAAR by Edward
Slingerland.
368 Journal of the American Academy of Religion
REFERENCES
Allison, Henry E. Kant’s Theory of Freedom. Cambridge: Cambridge Uni-
1990 versity Press.
Billeter, Jean François “La phénoménologie de l’activité dans le Zhuangzi.”
1993 Asiatische Studien 47/4: 545–558.