Author
Livia Kohn, Ph.D., is Professor Emerita of Religion and East Asian Studies at Boston University, where she began teaching in 1988 after spending ten years in Kyoto, Japan. She has written thirty-four sole-authored books and over a hundred articles, translated five works from the German, French, Chinese, and Japanese, and edited eleven multi-authored volumes as well as fourteen issues of the Journal of Daoist Studies. After retiring from university teaching in 2006, she now serves as the executive editor of Three Pines Press, gives Zoom lectures (DaoExplore), and runs Daoist workshops. For details, please see www.threepinespress.com.
Introduction
Most current crises facing the world center on war and climate change. Both lead to refugees, migration, poverty, famines, natural disasters, and globally spreading diseases. Also, both are fundamentally related to dominance thinking, that is, the understanding that there must always be a winner and loser, that one gets all and the other nothing, there is ultimately a zero-sum reality.
This way of being in the world can be counteracted by actualizing interconnectedness both in thought and action, by changing the basic paradigms of thought toward a more holographic way of looking at things. In Western culture, this is most vividly expressed in environmental ethics, notably Deep Ecology as developed by the Norwegian thinker Arne Naess; in Daesoon Thought, it is noted in Sangje's writings on wisdom---where Sangje (上帝, the Supreme God) refers to the historical figure, Kang Jeungsan (姜甑山, 1871-1909); and in Daoism, it appears in the Dao de jing and Zhuangzi as admonitions toward tolerance and respect as well as guidelines for non-interference and harmony.
In all cases, the focus is on a system of environmental cooperation, biospherical egalitarianism, or organic holism. Daoists in particular integrate all natural features, plants and animals, in a comprehensive coexistentialism. They see everything as interconnected in a natural pattern of complementarity, described in terms of yin and yang, proposing a way of being that does not interfere with nature but is at one with the flow of Dao, a return to organic harmony and a homeostatic, interconnected order.
Environmental Ethics
The key facet of Daoism when speaking about the contemporary world crisis is its overarching emphasis on mutual recognition, respect, tolerance, and acceptance---not only among all people but also among all beings, including the animal and natural world. In other words, Daoists propose a form of environmental ethics.
Environmental ethics is a relatively new field of philosophical inquiry, concerned with values relating to the world beyond humanity, "constructing a system of normative guidelines governing human attitudes, behavior, and actions toward the natural environment" (Ames 1989, 114). Its main focus is ecology, a word that literally means the "study" (logos) of "habitat" (eco), i.e., the science of the relationship between living things and their natural environment. Applying conventional philosophical categories to emergent practical environmental problems and asking questions about the nature of nature and how to relate to it (1989, 113), it is concerned with issues of wilderness, biodiversity, pollution, climate change, global warming, and various other elements of the ecocrisis of the planet.
Growing rapidly since its inception in the 1970s---heralded by the publication of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring in 1962---environmental ethics can be divided according to five major approaches. The first is anthropocentrism. This considers human beings as the most significant entity of the universe, regards the world in terms of human values and experiences, and assumes humans to be the ultimate goal of life (1989, 141). Critically also called human chauvinism, speciesism, or anthropo-parochialism, this view sees the natural world as a resource to be used for human ends, believes humans to be capable of managing earth to perfection, especially with newly arising methods of science and technology (e.g., genetic engineering), and subscribes to the principle of sustainable development that "meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own" (Curry 2006, 47-50).
Another approach is social ecology, which argues that human despoiling of nature is directly related to domination over other humans, represented as the universal social pattern of hierarchy---"the cultural, traditional, and political systems to which the terms class and state most appropriately refer" (Bookchin 1991, 68). Human power structures are thus at the root of the treatment of nonhuman nature; they have to change first before the environment can be protected properly (Curry 2006, 50). That is to say, the full realization of human rights (dignity, freedom, justice, and welfare) is essential in the attainment of environmental goals.
Ecofeminism, next, follows a similar thrust, arguing that the "master mentality" which causes environmental degradation is a core characteristic of the patriarchal or masculinist structures of human interaction. It focuses on the inherent pattern of domination pervasive in modern societies (Curry 2006, 95) that sees the female---as much as the natural world---as lowly, filthy, and dark, to be suppressed, controlled, and exploited (Birdwhistell 2001, 37). Language often conflates the two. For example, just like women are mothers and subject of sexual assault, so the environment is described as Mother Nature and its exploitation called "the rape of the wild" (Cheng 1986, 354). To counter the ongoing oppression and subordination of the natural world, ecofeminists accordingly work with a multi-systems approach, have a strong focus on women's liberation, and aim for an overall cultural shift toward greater respect and equality.
A more biocentric approach, i. e., centered on life itself as a major value and on the respect for the good of other individual creatures, especially animals (Curry 2006, 61), appears in moral extensionism or "ethics of respect" (2006, 56). It argues for the liberation of animals and animal rights, works for the preservation of endangered species, and emphasizes the "interdependence of all living things in an organically unified order, whose balance and stability are necessary conditions for the realization of the good of its constituent communities" (Taylor 2003, 75). Based on the biological theory of evolution, this approach sees human beings as relatively recent arrivals among vibrant plant and animal communities, closely connected to and completely dependent on the ecological soundness and health of the latter (2003, 77). As a result, all living entities on the planet need to be treated with care and respect, supported in their particular expression and growth.
Deep ecology, last but not least, is an expression of ecocentrism, where the system of environmental cooperation as a whole is the center of concern (Curry 2006, 44). It is a form of biospherical egalitarianism and organic holism that connects to chaos theory and the science of complexity with its principle of self-organization and understanding of a "holistic, participating universe" (Jones and Culliney 1999, 644, 646). Developed by the Norwegian thinker Arne Naess, it sees the flourishing of all life and species as having intrinsic value and their role in the earth's community as interdependent and equal (Curry 2006, 45; Birdwhistell 2001, 39). The diversity of life is essential, and human beings have no right to diminish it in any way. Not only are there too many people on the planet, but their interference in the natural world is excessive; ideologies, politics, and methods must thoroughly change to shift the balance toward favoring the environmental equilibrium as a whole (Curry 2006, 72). The ultimate norm in deep ecology is "maximize Self-realization," allowing all beings to unfold toward a large comprehensive Self (with a capital 'S') that "embraces all life forms on the planet (and elsewhere?) together with their individual selves" (Naess 2003, 271). Not only are all beings interdependent, but their realization is joined in universal symbiosis: for each being to realize itself more fully, it relies on the realization of others; at the same time, with each being becoming more fully itself, the universe as a whole becomes more whole (2003, 272).
Interconnected Natural Processes
The Daoist position most closely echoes the last two, the biocentric and ecocentric approaches. It focuses on personal self-realization in accordance with one's heaven-given inherent tendencies and circumstantial trajectories, closely matching the agenda of Deep Ecology, In addition, Daoism also integrates plants and animals in "coexistentialism" and generally has a deep admiration for nature (Jung 2011, 38). Going beyond the boundaries between species, the Zhuangzi often notes that different beings have different needs, preferences, and standards. Painfully aware of the intricate food chain of nature (ch. 20; Watson 1968, 218), it points to the close interconnectedness of all natural elements, emphasizing not only how they transform from one into another, but also how different environmental circumstances impact development (Goldin 2005, 81). For example,
The seeds of things have mysterious workings. In the water they become Break Vine, on the edges of the water they become Frog's Robe. If they sprout on the slopes they become Hill Slippers. If Hill Slippers get rich soil, they turn into Crow's Feet. The roots of Crow's Feet turn into maggots and their leaves turn into butterflies. Before long the butterflies change and turn into insects that live under the stove; they look like snakes (ch. 18; Watson 1968, 195)
Modern chaos theory describes this interconnectedness of species in terms of fractal geometry, i.e., the fact that "intricate, repetitive patterns appear in the universe over a vast range of scale" and that "nature creates structure in a continuum of seamless dimensionality." This tendency of nature "to develop an integrating structure" is close to the concept of Dao, which too "creates perfect flair or fluency in its affinitive systems"(Jones and Culliney 1999, 645-46).
In addition to chaos theory, Daoist thought in certain attitudes and concepts matches those of modern physics, biology, and environmental science. They share a deep appreciation of the inherent value of the nonhuman world, are essentially non-anthropocentric, and approach nature with childlike curiosity and enthusiasm.
They are also equally aware of the natural pattern of complementarity or "protocosmic polarity" that creates life in an ongoing process of never-ending interchange (Ames 1989, 119; Fox 2005, 49). Daoist texts express this in terms of yin and yang—active and resting, warm and cold, also expressed as pure vitality and consummate matter. Characterized as universal, relational, interdependent, relative, and creatively harmonious, they move dynamically in the rhythm of the five phases and constitute an extensive continuum of creative vitality (Cheng 1986, 364).
This is also central to Daesoon Thought, where Sangje defines wisdom in dynamic terms, noting that "as every affair starts from yin and develops to yang, one should first observe the darkness of yin and then watch the light of yang." He further emphasizes the cycle of the five phases and says, "After a man realizes the mechanism, he can be called a man of divine power" (DIRC 2020a, 291).
Modern biologists find such polarity in the structure of human DNA; in the brain, whose left and right hemispheres have different tasks and natures yet work in close cooperation; in the autonomic nervous system, which divides into the sympathetic (active) and parasympathetic (resting) aspects that turn off and on in alternation; in the two sexes, male and female, that come together to create life; and so on (Barnett 1986, 302-04).
Just like the classical Chinese symbol for yin and yang contains dots in each sphere, so there is an element of the other in each of the complementary pairs. Their interaction, moreover, is not "either or" but always "both and"—providing multiple sources of information and potentialities for action to the organism (1986, 305). Nature and nurture, competition and predation, rise and fall, all work closely together in a balanced on-and-off, up-and-down mode. They are not fixed structures or firm categories, but inherent living processes (Cheng 1986, 353). The most complete and best way of being thus involves the complete interaction of both aspects, the dynamic integration of all complementary systems (Barnett 1986, 306; Ames 2001, 268).
Complementarity or polarity, moreover, manifests in the continuous process of reversion (復, fu), the cyclical pattern of growth and decline. The Dao de jing has:
The myriad beings are alive, and I see thereby their return. All these beings flourish, but each one returns to its root. Return to the root means tranquility, it is called recovering life.
(ch. 16, 25, 40; Cheng 1986, 358)
Biologists and ecologists see this unceasing movement of things on a continuum between extremes in the continued ordering and disintegration (entropy) of life, the organic chemical transformations in living matter, and the homeostatic processes of the healthy body (Barnett 1986, 301). As part of this understanding, death in both Daoism and biology is seen as an "essential part of the process of organic change that includes life" (1986, 307). No new life can come forth without death, without the reversion of living, pulsating, breathing entities to a resting, latent, inanimate state.
On another level, both modern scientists and Daoists share a mode of gathering information. They rely on careful empirical observation, on the unbound, objective examination of phenomena with a clear mind. For example, Zhuangzi speaks to Huizi about watching the raccoon dog as "it crouches down and hides, watching for something to come along; leaps and races east and west, not hesitating to go high or low-until it falls into the trap and dies in the net" (ch. 1; Watson 1968, 35). He, as much as modern scientists, uses the phenomenon itself as the ultimate arbiter of any situation or object and is highly suspicious of any interpretation and classification as one-sided and dependent on opposites (Barnett 1986, 309-10).
Unlike Daoists, modern biologists engage in experiments that manipulate nature in a controlled setting and rely on technological devices for measurements and enhanced observation. They relish vibrant debate and the spirited exchange of data and theories, often relinquishing simplicity for more complex explanations to match the natural patterns. They also prefer a mathematical model and material view of the world (1986, 311-12), in contrast to Daoists who see the world also in mystical, spiritual, and numinous dimensions (Paper 2001, 17).
Belief Structure
Another point that ecologists share with Daoists is the realization that our attitude toward other beings and the environment is "deeply conditioned by beliefs about human nature and destiny" (Paper 2001, 6), by constricted views of humanity and the narrative cultures develop about how to deal with nature (Birdwhistell 2001, 28, 24).
Thus, the prevailing view of nature in the Western world is determined by the Biblical injunction in Genesis.
And God said: Let us make man in our image, after our likeness; and let him have dominion over the fish of the sea, and over the fowl of the air, and over the cattle, and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creepeth upon the earth. (1:26)
This engenders dominance thinking and gives human beings the right, even the duty, to overcome and use animals and the natural world for their own purposes (Cheng 1986, 354; Jung 2011, 29-30), making forests into timberland and leading to a relationship of conquest and control. Coupled with the pervasive use of science and technology and the belief in perpetual progress as part of the linear trajectory of history (Ames 1989, 141), in recent centuries this has led to the situation where an instrumental rationality has "objectified, mechanized, rigidified, dehumanized, and de-enlivened" (Cheng 1986, 353) nature and the human body, just as through colonialism Christianity and Western culture have come to dominate the rest of the world.
Dominance, seen as the power to be like the deity and ultimately aimed at the ability to create, is central is the enterprise of the modern West: dominance of the flesh through conquering sexuality and passions; dominance of the mind through systematic training, education, and political propaganda; dominance of nature through agriculture and industry, doing away with wilderness and wild life while allowing nature to persist only in parks; dominance of the outer world by conquest of alien societies and the establishment of colonies; and dominance of all otherness though the increasing unification of world culture, the McDonaldization of society. The current environmental crisis is thus predetermined by the belief system of the Western world.
Daoists, although often romanticized as living "an ideal rustic life in small communities" (Paper 2001, 12), do not have any overall solution, nor do they offer specific research, political measures, or activist initiatives. However, they do have some alternative ways to contribute (Miller 2017). Most pertinently, they offer an archaic wisdom that sees life as universally interconnected or "interbeing" (Jung 2011, 31), values diversity as a fundamental condition for flourishing, and insists on the fundamental compatibility of all life forms as well as the need for humans to treat other species with respect (Birdwhistell 2001, 27, 32, 40). For them, nature is not a teleological realization of a fixed trajectory and end; rather, "wayfaring itself forms the way," i. e., living is more important than achieving (Ames 1989, 115).
Matching this overall pattern, Daoists see the world as aesthetically rather than logically ordered, understanding natural parity as the "noncoherent sum of all orders defined from the myriad perspectives," so that none is superior or dominant (Jung 2011, 36). With cooperation as their central focus, they generalize principles from human experience rather than classifying experience according to theoretical models. Applying their ars contextualis, they move away from universal characteristics to see the uniqueness of the particular, examine everything in its concrete specific detail, and see a pleasing order in the relation of the one to the many—anarchic (not ruled by any one, single entity) and contingent (mutually dependent and interchanging) (Ames 1989, 117, 136; Paper 2001, 7). Daoists thus pursue a norm-less, non-theoretical characterization of the modalities of human and other experience, encourage mirroring rather than controlling, and apply a language of difference and deference rather than of domination.
Daoist texts have no specific word that matches the modern concept of "nature," but use tian (天) or dao (道) to refer to the natural processes of life. Tian, sky or heaven, is the generic term for all beings (物, wu); it signifies the origin and foundation of the world, and indicates its natural, spontaneous workings People should follow tian, identify and accord with it, and place themselves in its center, but they can also be at odds to or alienated from it.
Dao is somewhat more abstract, denoting the "process of living and growing" as well as the "constituents and conditions of life" (Cheng 1986, 353). Nameless, intangible, empty, simple, all-pervasive, eternal, life-sustaining, and nourishing, Dao is often described with the metaphor of water, which matches its original meaning of "way" or "channel" and shows its placidity, fluidity, regularity, and rhythm (Ames 1989, 131). Dao is the perfect force for the fulfillment of life, echoed in all beings through their inner potency (德, de) (Ames 1989, 124). Multicentric and supportive of all, it provides an ethos that "conduces most fully to the expression of the integrity of each constituent particular," deferring to all relevant "environing conditions to establish an efficacious and fruitful integration of all while at the same time fully disclosing the uniqueness of each particular" (Ames 1989, 135).
Daoists thus believe in the "all-embracing nature of the spontaneously life-generating process" and see the cosmos as the unfolding of continuous creativity in organismic, dynamic patterns of interlocking energy fields (Jones and Culliney 1999, 653). Free from distrust of the natural processes of life, their focus on continuity, wholeness, and dynamism, yet are "acutely aware that the world we live in, far from being the Great Unity (datong 大同) recommended in the classics, is laden with disruptive forces, including humanly caused calamities and natural catastrophes" (Tu 1989, 72).
Degradation of the environment, therefore, is not a modern issue, but has a long history—the idea that the ancients were more in tune with nature is a myth. The barrenness of Middle Eastern deserts was caused by overgrazing goats over millennia; the great North American prairies, originally forested, are the result of excessive use of slash and burn by Indigenous people; and even in the Pleistocene hunters and gatherers went into overkill, leaving large swathes of nature ravaged and permanently changed (Goldin 2005, 77).
China, too, has experienced environmental despoiling for millennia (Paper 2001, 13). Already Mencius deplores the stripping of trees from Ox Mountain (11.8), while the Liezi (ch. 5) and the Huainanzi (4.16) tell the story of Kuafu, whose never ending thirst caused the rivers to run dry (Birdwhistell 2001, 27). The Zhuangzi bemoans the degree to which, under the rule of the so-called sage rulers of antiquity, the air was polluted, the light of sun and moon was fractured, the hills were stripped of trees, the streams were sluggish, and the seasons were upset. "Not a living thing was allowed to rest in the true form of its inner nature and destiny" (ch. 14; Birdwhistell 2001, 26).
Non-Interference
To remedy this situation, Daoists propose to return to organic harmony, a stable, homeostatic, and interconnected order that—like a low-maintenance garden—arises out of spontaneous, mutual adjustment among many elements and forces in a given system. Placing priority on situation over agency, they define things not by their "absolute essence" but "correlationally at any given time" (Ames 2001, 269). Each part in the Daoist universe is unique; "each pattern is novel and site-specific" (2001, 277). Interacting and interconnecting with this multilayered and multifaceted world, then, requires tolerance, integrity, and respect (Fox 2005, 51), the application of wu or non-processes which are non-objectified and encompass all existence, eliminating the need for control and the instrumentalizing aspect of desire. These include wuyu (無欲, non-desire), the achievement of deferential desire, and wuzhi (無知, non-knowledge), unprincipled, anarchic knowing.
The key concept in this context is another wu process, that of non-interference or nonaction (無為, wuwei), rendered variously as non-coercive action, non-interference, or effortless responsiveness (Goldin 2005, 79). This is not inaction but rather perpetual creativity where there is "nothing that is not done" (無不為, wubuwei). It matches what Sangje called "changing without the need for action," that is, the natural process of ongoing "birth (生, saeng), growth (長, jang), harvest (斂, yeom), and storage (藏, jang) (DIRC 2020a, 247)."
People, moreover, can be trained to enter and maintain a firm interconnectedness or "steadfast congruence" with this "natural, unconscious, undirected action" of Dao, fully immersed in the cosmic flow while creating positive attractor fields from within (Jones and Culliney 1999, 645-47). Just as Dao always acts in accordance with its own nature, so we should follow our own accord and connect to others and the natural world without imposing on them (Cheng 1986, 357). Practicing a "non-confrontational style," we should make changes gently, slowly, and consciously in alignment with naturalness and without dramatic effects.
Careful about the interdependence of action and effect, non-interference means taking the most appropriate action under the circumstances, letting go of preconceived notions and adjusting rapidly to all constituting factors. The opposite of mastery, control, and conquest, it means merging with nature's flow and contributing to a new identity of the system from within (Jones and Culliney 1999, 647). Working with viability, it means "recovering the innocence of childhood" combined with the adult powers of discrimination (1999, 647), then assisting nature to achieve masterly effects. These include building houses that blend completely into the natural setting, designing gardens that enhance and highlight natural forms, or training horses with gentle whispering to excel in their natural powers.
Science and technology in this understanding are not in themselves bad but need to be reconfigured so that they serve humanity and "contribute to the richness of life" (Cheng 1986, 369). Prosperity and wealth are beneficial, but in excess lead to great loss—just as an overemphasis on frugality will create waste. Harmony and balance being central virtues, non-interference is a synthesis of relaxing and doing, letting go and control, chaos and order, detachment and totalism.
Inevitably active, this means that we should remain on the edge of chaos, "functioning at the highest dynamic activity while still maintaining structure and integrity," neither in total randomness nor in the frozen realm, neither frantic nor stoic, neither too yang nor too yin (Jones and Culliney 1999, 649). Resting in the calm center of the system, the pivot of Dao, we should serve as nature's conduit, preserving balance in tension and allowing new levels of complexity to emerge, revert, and again emerge (1999, 650-51).
We should be neither passive nor proactive, neither doing too much nor too little. Doing too much means being assertive and calculating, subjecting the natural world to gratuitous interference (Fox 2005, 55). Imposing heroically on natural processes to their detriment like the farmer in the Mengzi who pulled up the sprouts in his field, hoping to "help the crop grow" —this leads to building dams inappropriately, releasing insects into new habitats, accumulating material goods far beyond one's needs or razing woodlands to build new developments then ironically called "The Woods" (2005, 55).
Passivity or "not doing" (不為, buwei), on the other hand, reflects the conviction that any human action is too much. The complexity of the universe being beyond human comprehension, we cannot judge or act on things that might be happening for a very good reason (Goldin 2005, 80). In this mode Zhuangzi accepts his wife's death as part of the natural changes (ch. 18), neither seeing death as a disaster nor the extinction of a species as anything but a natural process. As a result, he might potentially sit by the riverside, seeing an infant floating by or a crane on its way to extinction without doing anything, just watching the natural process at work. However, following his thought to its logical conclusion, he himself is also part of the circumstances at any given time. Thus, should he become aware of the child floating by and able to do something to save it, the situation would require his action—gentle and conscientious, but action nonetheless.
To find the right balance, Daoists advocate self-cultivation and self-realization, enhancing their inherent authenticity in contact with the deepest sources of creativity and allowing others to do the same (Cheng 1986, 368). In a step-by-step process of continuous letting go and purifying the mind, they free themselves from distractions and focus strongly on their inherent tendencies. Thereby they gradually become "superconductors" of Dao, minimizing friction, conflict, or resistance (爭, zheng) and learning to "sustain signals with minimal loss of integrity" (Fox 2005, 53). In the process, they come to realize that, rather than atomistic and set in hierarchical structures, they are essentially net-like, interwoven, and relational—part of a universal webwork of equal connectivity (Birdwhistell 2001, 35).
A condensed dimension of the universe, Daoists connect to a font of energy and a cosmic capacity for order. Developing a subtle awareness that allows them to attend to the totality of any given situation, they are spontaneously disciplined by their connection to the collective without yet relinquishing their individual uniqueness (Ames 1989, 139). The more they transform, moreover, the more they have a beneficent effect on the world around them; the perfected or sages perform the same role in society as Dao does in the cosmos. As they "outgrow routinized language and ego-habituated preferences," they become instrumental in the "genuinely sustainable globalization of earth" (1989, 140).
For the world today, this means that a Daoist-based attitude to the environment supports the new understanding of evolution. While the basic paradigm is still the survival of the fittest, the definition of "fittest" has changed from the strongest and most aggressive—those with greatest firing power—to the most cooperative, i. e., those who create the best networks, garner the most support from the community, and furnish the best living conditions for everyone.
The increasing appreciation of the interconnectedness of all life, furthermore, is leading to a fundamentally different way of understanding reality. This includes new perspectives in science, ecology, economy, cosmology, governing, agriculture, and education, among the other basic intellectual structures that support human activity. As humanity, with the help of science and technology, connects and globalizes to ever new dimensions, at some point it will begin to act like one organism rather than as unrelated individuals and separate interest groups. We increasingly become planetary citizens, appreciating the ecological interconnectedness of all and seeing ourselves as an integral part of the system in which we live, bringing Dao and heaven fully to bear.
References
Birdwhistell, Joanne D. 2001. "Ecological Questions for Daoist Thought: Contemporary Issues and Ancient Texts." In Daoism and Ecology: Ways within a Cosmic Landscape, edited by Norman Girardot, James Miller, and Liu Xiaogan, 23-44. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, Center for the Study of World Religions.