By Guo‐Ming Chen and Richard Holt 

I loved this chapter, perhaps because it provided an opportunity to reflect on an important and timely theme—social change as seen through the lens of Dao.  A warning in advance, however, is in order. Lao Zi can be used to support quite different view points. It is thus all the more important to weigh his words carefully against reality.  

Let’s grant with the authors that Lao Zi is right when he says: “‘The best is like water. Water is good; it benefits all things and does not compete with them. It dwells in (lowly) places that all disdain. This is why it is so near to Tao’ (Chapter 8).”  And let’s further grant, for now, that because water is so near the Dao that we should all try to act like water.  

Our scholar friends (Chen and Holt) state that the metaphor of water in the Dao De Jing is used to unify “three conceptual schemes: Zhi Xu (attainment of complete vacuity), yong rou (softness/weakness), and chu xia (subordination)/bu zheng (non‐competition).” I’ll focus here mostly on vacuity and its associated non-action (wu wei).  

Chen and Holt state that “according to Lao Zi, the purposeful actions of rulers often create serious problems for the state.”  Reflecting further on Lao Zi they state: “Too much action violates the law of nature and damages people and society (see chap. 57).” Further, reflecting on Lao Zi they note: “‘They (people) are difficult to rule because their ruler does too many things’ (chap. 75). Therefore, ‘Not to know the eternal (Tao) is to act blindly to result in disaster’ (chap. 16).”

Continuing, they write reflecting on Fung: “Knowledge results in having social and political institutions artificially designed to satisfy human desires. Although such institutions regulate human life, their purposeful actions are contrary to the natural course of the universe, bringing harm and leading to disaster. Ironically, social institutions are sources, not of order, but of disorder, producing the opposite of what was intended (Fung, 1983).”

The authors state: “to correct the problem caused by purposeful action, one has to practice ‘actionless action’ by not taking purposive and excessive action, as explained by Lao Zi in these passages: ‘Therefore, the sage manages affairs without action and spreads doctrines without words’ (chap. 2). Further, “When one desires to take over the empire and act on it, I see that he will not succeed. The empire is a spiritual thing, and should not be acted on” (chap. 29); and ‘An empire is often brought to order by having no activity’ (chap. 48).”

Herein, some would assert, is the philosophical defense for a government of “laissez faire.”  Importantly, however, our 3M scholars reminds us that “Lao Zi explains that this action-less activity is not simply ‘doing nothing.’ Instead, it is in following the way of Nature like water.” “Natural action (that is action less action),” the authors note, “eventually causes the completion of a task, ‘By acting without action all things will be in order’ (chap. 3)and ‘Tao invariably takes no action, and yet there is nothing left undone” (chap. 37).”

Returning to the water metaphor, the authors note that in regard to wu wei: “Actors in all these situations are like water moving naturally here and there, doing nothing purposefully but accomplishing important tasks – water, merely by following the flow of nature, cleans all which is dirty, as well as enriching and nurturing all existence. Water cleans and evaporates completely; it performs all kinds of functions and benefits myriad things, yet never claims credit (Li, 1992).”

But what is natural action, this “way of water,” when it comes to governance? Is it to do nothing purposefully?” Is that what a ruler should do? Is that what places all things in order?  

I cannot speak with authority on the conditions during the Warring States Period during which Lao Zi wrote, but I do want to call attention to what happens when there is weak governance—those who have power generally seize more. The result is either a chopped up feudalism, or some form of plutocracy or oligarchy—systems that, unlike water, benefits very few.  Perhaps the non-action Lao Zi advised was for the leaders of society to not seek more power or wealth—and thus more of the aggression, war, and conflict which characterized the Warring States Period.  This, I think, is the proper frame in which to view Lao Zi’s advice.

Consider the good that good governance has brought us: it ended child labor, it helps protect the environment as well as our food and water, it provides a system of justice, it protects the helpless, it helps end exploitation, racism, and sexism, it establishes the infrastructure which enhances commerce and travel, it establishes rules of fair trade, and it provides the means which enables all to be educated. This is water-like action in that its benefits are meant to rain upon all.  

If water is good and to be emulated, note that water is not always passive. It’s also a powerful force. It can grind down mountains and wipe away all obstacles as it seeks eventual rest. There are obstacles in our social world that need removing if we are to find rest that benefits all people. The task of good government is to remove these obstacles so that humanity, like water, may find peace. Like water, government must occasionally take action. This action, like the action of water, is natural. Rains fall in response to imbalances in nature: pressure differentials, clashing currents, and the evapoartive build up caused by excess heat that requires release. Social imbalances also require rain-like discharges to bring about better social conditions. If government does not act, these imbalances can grow leading to violent, natural outbursts.  The Dao, like water, must be seen in its full perspective—requiring action when imbalnaces arise. 

Lastly, I’ll hazard a brief comment on the following from our 3M authors: “According to Lao Zi, the highest state of Dao is to ‘attain complete vacuity’ (chap. 16) which functions as the wellspring of all life, as indicated in various chapters, ‘Therefore in the government of the sage, he keeps their (the people’s) hearts vacuous’ (chap. 3); and ‘Tao is empty. It may be used but its capacity is never exhausted’ (chap. 4).”  Vacuity here cannot be simple emptiness, but a creative emptiness from which all life arises, and the vacuous hearts of the people cannot refer to lifelessness, but to satisfaction made possible by good, natural, governance.