The Imperial Style of Inquiry in Twentieth-Century China

Front matter

THE EMERGENCE OF NEW APPROACHES

The Imperial Style of Inquiry in Twentieth-Century China

The Imperial Style of Inquiry in Twentieth-Century China

Chapter Five The Emergence of Autonomy as a Chinese Social Value 87 Notes 109 Glossary 125 Works Cited 127

Index 135 vii

Preface his book examines the endurance in modern China of old philosophi-

cal ideas about knowledge and inquiry. These ideas are rooted in Neo-Confucian doctrines. They coexist along with other, different ideas about and approaches to the project and process of inquiry. The book also examines the impact of those ideas on problem solving. This includes the influence of philosophical ideas on proposing solutions to social or technical problems. Such solutions often have political policy implications. If the tone of the first three chapters is critical of old ideas as obstructions to inquiry, the last two are optimistic. They focus on signs of departure that I suggest will facilitate the solving of social problems.

Early in the book I describe Chinese totalism, a Confucian belief that there is an ordered structure integrating everything that exists; the same order runs through both the human and natural spheres. This belief justifies imperial authority by making the emperor responsible for the harmony of all the related parts. Totalism also supports a theory about the investigation of things that is highly authoritarian. It centers on copying antecedent models, whose ultimate legitimacy comes from the emperor. The models ensure that any particular situation under study will be understood in terms of the officially recognized, integrated totality.

This theory about the investigation of things also prizes clarifying the mind so it can intuit in itself the innate patterns that structure the world. Patterns in the human mind are believed to parallel in totality the actual patterns in nature, a belief that owes much to the Neo-Confucian Zhu Xi (1125-1200). These patterns provide information that is both descriptive and prescriptive, about how things predictably do and should behave. This is an aspect of what I call the fact-value fusion. I first discussed this phenomenon in historical context in chapter 2 (“The Nature of Mind”) of my book, The Concept of Man in Contemporary China (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1977). The idea of a fact-value fusion plays a significant role in the present book.

I call this Confucian theory about the investigation of things the “imperial style of inquiry,” because it had the imperial imprimatur from 1313 until 1911, embodied in the authority of the philosophy of Zhu Xi and the Four Books of Confucianism for civil service examination purposes. It also assumes the emperor’s role in maintaining the harmony of the whole. Sometimes I will refer to it as the “Confucian style of inquiry.”

ix x Preface

I will criticize those aspects of the belief in an integrated totality that lead investigators to seek in nature what are really only human traits and to expect to find in nature what are exclusively human values. I also criticize aspects of the reliance on antecedent models in inquiry.

I want to prevent two dangerous but possible misunderstandings about the positions I take in this study. The first is that I affirm both the possibility and desirability of separating in every way the realms of humans and of nature. In fact, I do not. Rather, I affirm the interdependency of the two: what happens to one usually affects the other, and humans can indeed act so as to improve the ecological health of living things. What I reject is the inference from interdependency that the so-called essential traits of humans and nature are the same. Doubtless some traits overlap, but humans are purposive, evaluating beings; we are conscious of hierarchy. I reject the attribution of hierarchy, purpose, and other value traits to nature and try to show that such attributions inhibit objective inquiry. My critique applies equally to China and to Europe.

The other potential misunderstanding is that I advocate the elimination of existing values from the process of inquiry in China and favor instead the substitution of liberal democratic American ones. In fact, I do not believe that it is desirable or possible to eliminate received values from the minds of those doing problem solving. What I favor is the incorporation of epistemic values consistent with the goals of science into the problem-solving process. I reject political or social values imposed by those with political power. Sometimes there is overlap in the terminology or content used to describe the epistemic values and the liberal democratic ones, but they are not identical. “Freedom” and “autonomy” are common to both. For example, the value of free and open communication and dissemination of information is consistent with scientific goals; so is individual autonomy in judging facts. In succeeding pages, I will try to make the case that developments in China fostering such autonomy are consistent with scientific inquiry. It is precisely on this matter of autonomy that critics will think Iam most vulnerable, and so it requires special attention here.

A critic’s potential misunderstanding will rest on the belief that Iam advocating some value within Western individualistic ethics as a substitute for collectivist Confucian or Maoist values. This would mean that I am advocating individual autonomy as an intrinsic value, worth pursuing and prizing for its own sake. It might mean that I favor unconventional thinking or acting for its own sake. In fact, I advocate nothing of the kind. Iam promoting individual autonomy as an instrumental value, worthwhile because it contributes to the social nature of inquiry. When a multitude of individuals feel free to put forth their own hypotheses

Preface xi about a problem, this generates a variety of hypotheses rather than just a few. Individual autonomy provides the motivation for individuals to formulate and study powerful hypotheses. It is the necessary condition for variability in the theories put forth. Variability does not exist if there is one model or one authority that dictates or sponsors a single official hypothesis. With variability, if people are working on the same problem, they can learn from each other’s perspectives. People today speak of the cognitive division of labor. Investigators compete, following different angles, and usually achieve some advancement of knowledge. In his book, The Advancement of Science, Philip Kitcher has a chapter entitled, “The Organization of Cognitive Labor.” He says,

The general problem of social epistemology, as I conceive it, is to identify the properties of epistemically well-designed social systems, that is, to specify the conditions under which a group of individuals, operating according to various rules for moderating their individual practices, succeed, through their interactions, in generating a progressive sequence of consensus practices.”

Elsewhere he remarks that “... scientists’ social involvement with one another does not interfere with the employment of epistemically virtuous individual reasonings.””

In short, inquiry is social as well as individual, with many people competing and learning from each other. The end product is usually a collective one. This collective process of inquiry is most robust when there is variability in the theories that compete. That variability depends on individual autonomy in inquiry and reasoning. In this sense, we can treat such autonomy as an instrumental good, a means to good inquiry. It is not the same as regarding self-governance or unconventional thinking as good in itself, as some liberals might propose.

This is a position that opposes single models and single authorities, but does not oppose the authority of peers. Insofar as the individual’s own particular needs may affect the hypotheses he initially proposes, there is a necessary place for peer evaluations and corrections.

I applaud the emergence of individual autonomy as a social value that coexists with, but does not replace, traditional collectivist social values. Recent systematic theoretical works on autonomy and less systematic popular expressions of it are the subject of chapter 5. I applaud these developments not because I favor substituting Western individualism for enduring Chinese values. To repeat, I do not think such a substitution is possible or desirable. I do so because I believe these developments are necessary historical precursors for individual autonomy to be accepted as a legitimate part of the social process of inquiry.

xil Preface

This book deals primarily with Chinese theories of inquiry as they relate to human problems. The people whose ideas concern me, be they in or out of politics, are writing as philosophers and as social scientists. They have interests in the definitions, assumptions, arguments, and methods of those fields. The book also deals with people whose approach to problem solving has been influenced by their theories. I deal only briefly with the hard sciences, especially in the 1930s and 1940s. I do not touch on the assumptions of “natural dialectics,” derived from Marx and Engels, and having special relevance to physics in the post-Mao period. This is because the assumptions of natural dialectics play no significant role in the early and most recent works by the theorists who serve as my sources.’ In any case, the spectrum of political, philosophical, and psychological players with whom I deal believed that their findings were applicable to the method of inquiry in all fields where there are human problems. My interest is in the theory and practice of inquiry as a broad human issue, before, during, and after the 1980s.

The subtheme that people operate on different levels at the same time also runs through the chapters that follow. It is appealing to think that people’s motives are simple. Many like to say that people are selfish, that their only motive is to maximize their self-interest. My conclusion, after trying to figure out the motives of others, as well as my own, is that our motives are complex and mixed, and rarely only singular. Supposing that I have a bad meal and a rude waiter at a local restaurant. I wish to heave a brick through the restaurant’s window. When I ask myself why I do not, I find I have several motives simultaneously. One is clearly selfinterested: I do not want to go to jail or pay a fine. But there is another that is equally strong. I do not want to live ina community where people resolve disputes with bricks. My other motive, then, is to show that I respect the law, that I agree with it.

People can shift from one level or motive to another. I apply this principle to twentieth-century China. I show how many important figures were motivated by a desire to act consistently with social values associated with the premodern/received view of knowledge and inquiry. These values included maintaining hierarchies, nurturing the completion of natural purposes, and observing correct relationships. At the same time, these people often had other motives and acted according to them, instead. Sometimes we can identify them, though sometimes they are fairly well concealed. For example, in addition to traditional social values, a person may also believe in utilitarian values and favor actions that support efficiency or entrepreneurship. He also may be motivated by a desire to retain power, or by fear. There are many examples of this in the pages ahead.

Preface xiii

Although the chapters that follow refer to the desire to conform to positions associated with a dominant school of thought, such as Zhu Xi or Wang Yangming Neo-Confucianism, or Maoism, such references are not meant to imply that these positions are the only ones. Many competing positions coexist, and the same person can buy into one or the others depending on the circumstances.

What follows is a study of the road to modern problem solving in China. The study points to the tension between a traditional Confucian style of investigation and that associated with science. I argue for differentiating the subjective realm of human values and the realm of nature. I argue for the positive, instrumental role of individual autonomy in Chinese inquiry. I am optimistic about the possibility of such changes taking shape because, as I demonstrate, their seeds are already present in China. They coexist with other, older approaches and are beginning to compete with them in both scholarly and popular culture.

Acknowledgments his book represents a summing up, towards the end of my active

university life, of a few hypotheses I have formed about threads that connect old and new China. Though I cannot deny a certain sense of freedom to plunge into deep thoughts and soar across broad vistas, I have tried to anchor these flights firmly in research that I began back in 1989,

As at any stage in my professional life, I am mindful of debts to many people, students as well as colleagues. If the hypotheses or interpretations have extended beyond reason, that is my doing and not theirs. I am grateful to members of the Department of Philosophy at Peking University, where I did research for parts of this project in 1990. They welcomed me as a Visiting Researcher, facilitated my access to texts, and, through discussions, helped clarify my understanding of Chinese philosophy of the 1930s and 1940s. The Committee on Scholarly Communication with the People’s Republic of China of the National Academy of Sciences, generously provided the funding that made possible this stay at Peking University. I also owe a debt to my student and friend, An Yanming. He was able to track down numerous usefyl materials relevant to the topics with which I deal. A careful reader of portions of the book, he has made helpful suggestions about filling gaps and refining points of emphasis. I am grateful for his contribution to the sense of exhilaration I have when discussing and writing about the topics. My colleague and former student, Lo Yuet-keung, taught me much that I did not know about Xiong Shili.

My sister, Eleanor Munro, is an artist as a writer, where I merely write. She has tried to teach me the difference between strong words and weak words, between saying something simply and clearly and saying it in a clumsy manner. I envy her artistry. I try to learn.

Some long time colleagues and friends read this manuscript in various stages and made such profound critical comments that I had to go back to work, to revise and add. These include Michel Oksenberg, from whom I have learned more than from anyone else the need to look at the same issues not just from a philosophical perspective but also from that of the political scientist. He has helped me in my journey to understanding that, because people operate on different levels, different levels of analysis are necessary to comprehend their acts. Kenneth

XV xvi Acknowledgments

Lieberthal has the most detailed knowledge of contemporary China that I have ever encountered. Thank goodness, because he found errors in my accounts of some recent historical events of which I would have been unaware until the grave. As always, I learned fairness and balance in evaluation from Albert Feuerwerker; I added many pages to the first chapter as a result of his suggestions. David Rolston worked with me to formulate a more appropriate title for the book as a whole and for some chapters. He also used the red pen to which he is entitled as Director of Publications, to flag places in the manuscript that needed attention. My friend of long standing, Roger Ames, aimed his critical philosophical arrows at appropriate targets. In important cases he was on the mark. My new friend, William Rowe, gave parts of the manuscript, especially the first chapter, the kind of rigorous reading I had expected of him, because he has the historian’s grasp that I will never have. I spent a lot of time changing things as a result and benefited greatly from his reading. During the years that I have worked on the topic of this book, I have often consulted my Philosophy colleague, Peter Railton. He has been unfailingly generous in sharing book references and his own ideas, especially on the matter of epistemic values. Most recently, he helped me understand the instrumental role of investigators’ individual autonomy in the social process of inquiry. I am very grateful to him.

Finally, I want to thank the College of Literature, Science, and the Arts at the University of Michigan, which sponsored the Distinguished Senior Faculty Lectures from which this book derives. My daughter Sarah first read my notes for those lectures and suggested where I could take things out and where I could make more sense. So I conclude by admitting that I am at the point where increasingly I learn from my daughter. There is a message there.

The Imperial Style of Inquiry in Twentieth-Century China

FBIS

QJ JPRS RMRB ZGQN

ZJXSP

ZLHB

ZLHBX]

ZXZJC

Abbreviations

Foreign Broadcast Information Service Jiang Jieshi quanji ‘ESOS Joint Publications Research Service Renmin Ribao ABBAS

Zhongguo gingnian HES

Zichan jieji xueshu sixiang pipan cankao ziliao

RERREWERKAES? RE

Zhongguo xiandai zhexue shi ziliao huibian

HRRRE ZERE E

Zhongguo xiandai zhexue shi ziliao huibian xuji

HERRAR ESE ARE RE

Zhongguo xiandai zhexueshi jiaoxue cailiao xuanji

Citations from Chinese collections follow the convention: set ($), volume (#}) (in Roman numerals), and page number (A). Full citations of these collections are given in Works Cited.

xviii

CHAPTER ONE mong the founding premises of Chinese civilization was a noble but,

in recent centuries, increasingly unworkable idea. It was a version of the not uncommon notion that everything in the universe is part of a coherent, internally structured totality. Events in one part affect another. This idea helped to justify empire and centralized authority in the hands of the emperor, who kept the whole harmonious. I consider it to be noble because it is aesthetically pleasing to our sense of order. It may motivate some people to care for the earth’ s resources. It may reassure them that what they think and do can have an impact on the world.

This totalism was associated with views about knowledge and the investigation of things. There were three links between totalism and a certain style of inquiry. First, inquiry was to be guided by models, the legitimacy of which lay in the emperor's approval of them. He served as the ultimate authority on standards for understanding the whole. Second, inquiry should be guided by principles derived from the totalistic portrait of the world: it should recognize that there are hierarchical relations between the parts, noting that parts have purposes and helping them realize their purposes is to the good of the whole; it should maintain the original harmony and vitality among all parts; and it should integrate knowledge of the parts because that knowledge is interrelated. Third, inherent in the human mind are duplicates of the orderly structure or patterns of nature as a whole, so clarifying the mind is the best route toward understanding phenomena in the natural world.

In Praise of China’s Totalism

There were many cultural strengths that derived ultimate justification from this totalism. I want to flag them at the start, because this book focuses not on strengths but on an inherent weakness that coexists with them. I do not want to give the impression that the founding premise of the worldview with which I will deal was all bad. The damaging consequences of its weakness did not come to the fore until the past two centuries or so, though that weakness was certainly manifest earlier. Prior to the nineteenth century, the strengths occupied the foreground. But historical conditions changed, eroding those strengths and thereby making society more vulnerable to the damage that could be done by the weakness. I will identify a number of strengths and in each case conclude by explaining how it was undercut eventually by historical developments.

The biggest historical change was in the self-confidence among elite Chinese about their place in what constitutes “the world” (tianxia). Prior to the nineteenth century, in both theory and experience, the world was the Chinese cultural world. Chinese relations with tributary countries and peoples, from the northern nomads and Tibetans to the West, to the Vietnamese and Koreans, were consistent with this view. Generally, their emissaries came as tribute-bearing subordinates to the Chinese emperor. (There are some examples of Chinese flexibility in foreign policy, when certain foreigners were treated as equals). Even when ethnically non- Chinese, the rulers of China assimilated Chinese culture. Within this culture, the emperor of China was the key to relations between all humans and heaven. This is part of the totalistic perspective. But after the end of the eighteenth century, the idea and the experience of what constitutes the world began to shift. The cause was China’ s increasing relations with a bigger and different world. In this new realm of relations, other monarchs had competing claims and the arms to back them up. The English kings and queens were among the chief players in these new relations. As a result of the successes in China of monarchs from outside of the Chinese cultural realm, among which the Opium War (1839-41) looms large, it gradually became impossible for Chinese elites to sustain their confidence in the old ideas about the world. The world was no longer coextensive with Chinese culture, and the Chinese ruler was no longer the obvious sole middleman between humans and heaven. The totalistic political view began to erode.

The strengths that derived from the totalistic vision were particularly evident in Chinese society during the centuries before the shift away from that vision began. The first strength lay in the idea that the totality incorporating humans and nature was stabilized and secured by a single ruler with special responsibilities. This ruler represented the people to heaven (nature) and heaven to the people. The relationship was conceived on the family analogy. The ruler was Son-of-Heaven and father of the people. With this role came responsibilities, originally identified by the Confucian philosopher Mencius (3722-279? B.C.), to look after the economic and educational well-being of the population. As a parent nurtures children or as a gardener cultivates her plants, the ruler must look after the welfare of the people to whom he is tied in this structured totality. At the very least, this meant insuring that state granaries were able to provide food for them in times of famine and stabilizing the flow of food and other commodities to the regional markets. It meant appointing officials who could also serve as exemplars for the moral education of the people. The reciprocal obligation of “children” was obedience.

In addition to the role of economic variables, such as pressure on resources from population growth, this system began to break down because of the weakening of the central government as it dealt with foreign incursions and internal rebellions in the nineteenth century. In addition, starting with the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-95, increasing numbers of educated elite wanted to participate in their own governance. Gradually, modern Chinese nationalism emerged. Many educated people reacted favorably to teachings about Western democracy that had been around for decades in translation and later were given new content in the writings of returned students, such as Dr. Hu Shi (1891-1962). They were also attracted to certain elements in their own New Text School, of which Kang Youwei (1857-1927), was the most famous proponent, and in the Statecraft (jingshi) tradition. These emphasized changing society by making fundamental changes in established institutions. They prized the individual Confucian official as reformer, and took the Han ideologue and official Dong Zhongshu (179?-104? B.C.) and the early seventeenth century Donglin academicians as models. This helped to undermine the ability of central authority to perform its traditional nurturing tasks.

A second strength lay in the family ethic and the communitarian values associated with it. The totalistic universe was one in which nature, the state, and the community all could and should exemplify certain traits, some of which were readily identified with the family: role relationships, hierarchy, and reciprocal responsibilities. Psychologically, there is much in the Confucian claim that knowledge and sentiments about morality are derived from the universal parent-child relationship. The family often provided a reliable source of support for the individual at the community level by giving him a known network of responsible connections. This ethic promoted order in the broader community by laying out a set of social roles analogous to those in a family for all persons. This made behavior predictable to some degree and was reinforced as patriarchal community figures resolved conflicts in ways that took account of those roles.

At the same time, the structure of role relations was flexible enough to accommodate those outside one's own family or community. Chinese merchants often used adaptations of familiar Chinese instruments to aid in the transition to international commercial procedures. These were built into the Chinese-controlled distribution system for goods, regularized over centuries by merchants well used to moving around their own country and to dealing with people outside of their normal networks.

However, the reliance on family rules and relationships in dealing with problems began to lose its effectiveness when, in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, Chinese people were increasingly involved in economic transactions governed by procedures not familiar to them, and political conditions changed. One of the most famous examples is the experience of the Standard Oil Company, which around 1900 got into the business of selling kerosene for home lighting from its headquarters in Shanghai to local Chinese wholesale distributors in rural areas. The rural wholesalers lived in a different social world from that of the American managers and their Chinese aides in the home office in Shanghai. The procedures affected by changing conditions included the pricing of kerosene by the home office without local flexibility, and granting private credit. In the case of credit, in the early years of the company’s business dealings, family members of Chinese agents accepted responsibility for repayment. Avoiding clan shame for default was a high priority. Later, with the emergence of unstable warlord governments, those family responsibilities eroded. Debts were not repaid and the foundation of private credit evaporated.’ A need arose for state-enforced institutions, such as civil laws governing banking and new rules about contracts. These are universal in application and normally do not take account of role relationships. These institutions have remained relatively undeveloped in China in the twentieth century.

The prizing of education was the third strength derived from the totalistic worldview. In part it followed from the ruler’ s obligation to nurture his “children.” It also came from the belief that the principles of all categories of things already exist in each person’ s mind. Education was the means by which people learned to gain access to them. On the practical side, education was also the means whereby the state trained civil servants to run the government. Their ordering capability was largely dependent on their understanding of those principles. Education and privilege went together. Thus, the Chinese state attracted many talented people into its service through its schools and its civil service examinations. Further, they learned in the schools a perspective and a set of social values shared by most members of their class. This fostered efficiency in handling affairs.

An edict of 1044 ordered each prefecture and county with a minimum number of scholars in it to set up schools. By the end of the Northern Song in 1125 there were 200,000 students in government schools. Though popular education did not take off for another three centuries, this marked the beginning of state-sponsored education on a considerable scale. The genuine interest in rewarding educational achievement with privilege is revealed by attempts to exercise objectivity in evaluating the civil service examinations. In the case of the palace, or highest level, examinations in 992, the names of candidates written on examination papers were covered over, and in 1015 it was ordered that the papers be rewritten, so authorship could not be inferred from knowledge of a candidate’ s calligraphy. Over time various regions came to be important contributors of successful candidates. These educated elites had access to literature and to persons with a range of styles and experiences in problem solving, though they had been indoctrinated to favor mainly one. In short, offices were staffed from a pool of talented and accomplished individuals who were well-equipped to handle the problems of governing.

However, by the end of the Qing dynasty, the number of qualified people was inadequate to deal with the range of problems facing the state, centrally or locally. In part this was because the state was parsimonious in spending money on bureaucratic salaries. In the Qing, out of a total population of two hundred million, there were five million active and former candidates for the lowest civil service degree, but only 27,000 office holders. In part this inadequate quantity of office holders reflects more than an unwillingness to spend money on appointments. It was also a consequence of the concern with ideological orthodoxy. The elite graduates of schools and successful examination candidates shared values. If such sharing had the virtue of promoting cohesion, in the late Qing it also obstructed the state’ s fostering of new technical skills and providing employment for those who possessed them. Those skills might have been promoted through a new curriculum. The state also was set on obstructing consideration of newly introduced Western values, such as toleration of plurality of beliefs and objectivity in investigation. There were some signs of change from the top in 1898 when the provincial governor Zhang Zhidong (1837-1909) instituted educational reforms leading to the teaching of sciences in the Western manner. But without strong state support, the quantity of graduates trained in the new ways of technical problem solving remained inadequate.

Fourth and finally, the kind of education promoted by the state fostered a self-discipline that gave great strength to many of those entrusted with public service. It emphasized intuitive self-knowledge, because it is within the mind that one finds the principles of the integrated totalistic whole and the controllable selfish desires that obscure them. This education also emphasized the role of models in learning. In defense of the Confucian position, I would say that in character development, model emulation is highly effective. It prizes moral spontaneity as the highest trait of the sage, quite distinct from the Western concern with rational choice-making from among alternatives. In situations requiring ethical action, to be able to do the right thing spontaneously is a virtue. This approach helped nurture great heroes, such as Wang Yangming (1472- 1529). His discipline gave him the courage to send a memorial to the throne in 1506 that led to his being flogged until he lost consciousness. It helped him find meaning in his years of banishment to remote Guizhou province, which he spent educating the local populace.