Chapter 2
Original Text
天下皆知美之為美。斯惡已。皆知善之為善。斯不善已。故有無相生。難易相成。長短相形。高下相傾。音聲相和。前後相隨。是以聖人處無為之事。行不言之教。萬物作焉而不辭。生而不有。為而不恃。功成而弗居。夫惟弗居。是以不去。
Word Notes
- 美: fine; good.
- 惡: not-fine; ugly; bad.
- 善: goodness; moral good.
- 形: to set off/contrast.
- 傾: to tip, be set against.
- 和: to harmonize.
- 辭: to refuse, to demur.
- 恃: to rely on, presume upon.
Chapter Explanation
When the world all recognizes “beauty” as “beautiful,” ugliness already emerges; when the world all recognizes “good” as “good,” what is “not-good” already appears. Therefore being and non-being give rise to each other; difficult and easy complete each other; long and short set each other off; high and low incline toward one another; tones and sounds harmonize; front and back follow one another.
Accordingly, the sage attends to affairs by non-action, conducts instruction without words. The myriad beings arise, and the sage does not refuse; he gives life and does not possess; acts and does not rely upon his own doing; accomplishes and does not dwell in the accomplishment. Only by not dwelling does the achievement not fade.
Translation
This chapter says: whenever something takes on name and form—“beauty,” “goodness”—opposites are born with them. Where there is beauty there is “not-beautiful”; where there is good there is “not-good.” This “not-beautiful” and “not-good” arise from beauty and goodness themselves. Therefore post-celestial named things are not fit to be the body of the Way. Yet if we keep only pre-celestial purity, there would be no efficacy; without the post-celestial you cannot complete the pre-celestial; the uttermost of the post-celestial is the pre-celestial; pre- and post-celestial circle one another. So too with all the world’s pairs.
At the hinge where the prior and the later turn, thresholds and marvels appear. The sage perceives these thresholds and marvels, grounding himself in the pre-celestial to make use of the post-celestial, but without being stained by it. Thus he “attends to affairs by non-action,” ruling by reverent self-restraint; “conducts instruction without words,” letting transformation abide; the myriad beings arise in profusion, and he lets them accord with their innate nature—letting them flourish together without harm. He “gives life” yet does not count it to his virtue; “completes beings” yet does not claim the merit; he is indifferent and at ease, taking the generation of beings and the accomplishing of affairs as the Way’s spontaneity. Not only does he not rely on virtue or dwell in achievement; he is not even attached to having “merit” as a name. Names fall in the post-celestial realm. And yet, precisely because he does not dwell, his merit remains through the ages.
Later readers, failing to grasp Laozi’s true intent, accused him of “non-action” that blocks progress. But Laozi’s “non-action” is not the torpor of a wooden idol, doing literally nothing; it is “non-action whereby nothing is left undone”—not clinging to action. Clinging to action yields only narrow “small doings,” never the great. “Doing one thing,” one cannot “do the ten-thousand”; and doing without pause ends by being unable to do at all.
Consider: Western learning values rest; everyone sleeps; rest is “non-action,” yet it nourishes spirit, enabling every kind of undertaking. This is truly “non-action by which everything is done.” But if one never rests, within seven days one dies—here “action” collapses into complete inability to act.
Or think of electrons: in the void they seem to do “nothing,” yet through combination and bonding they give rise to all things in the cosmos. This “non-action” is a profound, all-accomplishing action. Once a thing is fixed in form, without changes of temperature and pressure, it cannot transform into something else: the field of formed action is minor next to the primal combinatory power. When its “combinations” are exhausted and decomposed to the last trace, one returns again to electrons—action returns to non-action.
Or consider a master who tends machines: he sits there “not moving”—that is non-action; yet without budging he governs the running of them all. This is “not-stillness” within “not-moving.” When a machine runs badly, he adjusts water, fuels the fire, adds oil, or makes some slight correction—this is action, the “having-desire” that contemplates the threshold. When the machine runs again, he returns to stillness—action without attachment, returning to non-action. If, instead, he becomes attached to doing—fixating on one machine—then others stall or go out of tolerance: chaos. Attachment to doing undermines the “non-action” in which nothing is left undone. Thus non-action is supremely subtle: the body of all action, the mother of all doing.
Some claim Laozi’s teaching is useless and impedes progress; they do not understand non-action, nor progress. The advance of instruments proceeds from pre-celestial to post-celestial: when action-driven “progress” drives matter to its extreme, atoms dissipate and the earth’s beings perish. Such “progress,” in truth, is regression. I do not say instrument-progress is bad; it, too, is Dao’s spontaneity—without it there would be no world. Earlier I said that if we keep only the pre-celestial there is no efficacy: my intent was not to belittle instrument-progress, but to rebuke those who despise the ancients and slander Dao-learning by clinging to one-sided views.
Laozi’s “attending to affairs by non-action” and “accomplishing without dwelling”—this is the progress of Dao-learning, the only true progress. In truth, Laozi also speaks of “regression”: if the Great Dao did not “regress,” there would be no world. What can be spoken and seen of Dao is Dao already “regressed.” The extremity of regression is progress; the extremity of progress is regression—progress and regression turn in a circle. If we compare Dao-learning and tool-learning, let us call tool-learning “regression” and Dao-learning “progress,” and remember that each cycles into the other.
After Laozi’s five thousand words, Guan Yin, Zhuang and Lie elaborated further—call this “progress,” yet much of it floated as empty talk without concrete works. In the Han, coming after the wars of the Warring States, Cao Shen used a single slice of Laozi’s Way to bring peace to the realm. Emperor Wen followed that intent, and punishments almost fell into disuse; the flavor of Cheng and Kang was nearly restored, and all honored the learning of Huang-Lao. This shows even a portion of Laozi’s teaching, progressing to its height, brings order. But progress to the height turns to regression: as Dao-learning regressed, tool-learning advanced. Europe’s “new learning” began in Han times. Laozi’s Dao-learning turned into Ge Hong’s elixir methods and then Kou Qianzhi’s talismans and registers, devolving further into rituals of warding and sealing—and in Jin times idle talk and libertine excess—so chaotic that Han Yu branded it heterodox; Song scholars, unseeing, followed suit and traced “Lao poison” to Yang and Mo.
Today the West’s instruments are advanced to their utmost. In wealth and military power—green-smoke airships, swift and lethal—how many times they surpass us! In cunning of manufacture and reach of enterprise—how many times they exceed us! Since we long lost the true, useful Dao-learning, and we do not understand instrument-learning either, how could we not be shown up as poor and weak—almost to national ruin? The hot-blooded rushed to save the state, but without examining root and branch; some blamed Laozi, and a chorus rose until many viewed “old learning” as if it were poison. Here Dao-learning had regressed to its extremity; regression at its extremity turns to progress: hence, Laozi’s true Dao-learning will advance, and Western instrument-learning will “regress”—not by vanishing, but by losing its supremacy, returning to its place as a part within the whole.
Earlier a portion of Laozi’s Way was enough to quell warfare in China; today the whole of Laozi’s Great Dao can, I believe, quell the world’s wars. The “marvel” is Dao’s emptiness; the “threshold” is the virtue of cherishing life. Let the world honor Dao and speak of De, and progress along with the Great Dao. If we honor competition alone, we follow tool-learning’s “regression.” The Western scholars developed instruments so that all might share the comforts of material civilization; I wish to join those who love Dao to develop Dao-learning so that all might share the blessings of moral civilization.