6.2 LIU SHIPEI’S CONCEPT OF QUANLI

6.2.1 Personal Interests

Evidence for Liu’s understanding of quanli is scattered throughout his ethical writings. A good place to begin is with the connection that he draws between quanli and a general notion of interest. Lesson Six of Liu’s Textbook on Ethics is devoted to the definitions of quanli and yiwu - the latter a term used to translate “duty,” about which I will say more later. Liu notes that the legalist text Han Fei Zi (c. 200 b.c.e.) records definitions for “personal (si)” and “general (gong).”²¹ “Personal,” the text says, means to “seek oneself (ziying)” and “general” means to “turn one’s back on the personal (beisi).” Liu then connects these ideas to quanli, writing that “the doctrine of ‘seeking oneself’ comes close to the Western idea of quanli” [1936b, 1,6b]. This is, at least on the surface, a surprising connection for Liu to make.Throughout Chinese history si almost always has been derided as an obstacle to morality.

We saw earlier that in fact for a classical Confucian like Xunzi, quan and li - like si - represented personal considerations that one ought to ignore. Just following the passage with which I began, though, Liu says that a problem with all traditional Chinese ethical theories is that they neglect quanli [1936b, II, 6b]. It is clear from this and others of Liu’s com­ments in the Textbook and in the Essentials that Liu believes quanli, and implicitly si as well, to be good things - aspects of our lives that need to be valued. Looking further into Liu’s understanding of human nature will help us to comprehend his motivations for viewing quanli and si positively.

In the Essentials Liu discusses the Lectures on the Four Books by the Confucian official and thinker Lu Liuliang (1629-83). Lu believed that the origins of his country’s troubles lay in improperly cultivated minds, and he condemned his age as a “utilitarian world” [Liu 1936a, III, 16a]. Lu wrote that the solution to these problems was to unify the ruler and the ruled - to insist that the ruler look only to the general good and sup­press any selfish, personal desires. Liu’s reaction to all this is twofold. He applauds Lu’s criticism of rulers for following only their personal inter­ests, adding that this idea of the unity of the interests of ruler and ruled is echoed in Rousseau’s Social Contract. At the same time, however, Liu believes that Lu’s proposal that rulers (and the ruled) need to do away with personal desires - to “eliminate the distinction between general and personal,” as Liu puts it - is misguided.

For the moment, note that Liu makes a similar point when discussing the ancient utopianism of the “Li Yun” chapter of the Book of Rites. In “Li Yun,” we are told of a wonderful time in which the “Great Way” was practiced, leading all in the cosmos to think only of the general good. There were no robbers; no one locked their doors [Liu 1936a, I, 8b]. Liu thinks that while these are beautiful images, the understanding of human motivation upon which they rest is badly mistaken. He cites Rousseau as maintaining that “having a mind to seek the good of the masses comes from the concatenation of many people’s having minds to benefit them­selves” [ibid., 9a].^[175] This is the same idea, Liu continues, as Mencius’s claim that the extension of kindness from those close to us - including, at least for Liu, kindness to ourselves - to those more distant from us gives rise to humaneness (ren).^[176]

The problem that Liu has identified with the idealism of Lu and the “Li Yun” passage needs to be carefully stated. His point is not that people are motivated only by things that directly benefit them, but rather that personal interests are a basic, natural part of our motivational systems that cannot be ignored. Liu’s resistance to the idealism of the “Li Yun” chapter springs from its failure to validate personal desires as an indi­vidual’s first concern. A humane ethical system must be built on the foun­dation of humans’ actual motivational systems.

Liu is well aware that this idea had been developed by Confucians before him. Liu’s remark about people having “thoughts of seeking their personal interests” from the moment they are born echoes the famous first line of Waiting for the Dawn by Huang Zongxi: “In the beginning of human life each man lived for himself (zisi) and looked to his own inter­ests (zili)” [Huang 1985, p. 2; translation from Huang 1993, p. 91]. As we saw earlier in Chapter 3, Huang’s attitude toward personal interests is actually somewhat complex, since he believes that sages must ignore these considerations in order to rule well. Liu’s ideas come closer to Con­fucians like Chen Que and Dai Zhen who take desires and personal benefit to be even less problematic than does Huang. One of my goals in the remainder of this chapter will be to highlight the connection between this strand of the neo-Confucian tradition and Liu’s view of quanli.

6.2.2 Legitimate Abilities

A second theme in Liu’s discussion of quanli is the positive ethical role that Liu seems to assign to quanli when he says, for instance, that quanli is essentially like Wang Yangming’s (1472-1529) notion of innate “good knowing (liangzhi).”³ In the Textbook, in the course of praising Wang’s idea of good knowing for the way in which it “forces the mani­festation of people’s committed spirits (zhiqi)” [Liu, 1936b, I, 24b], Liu writes that

Chinese people all believe that sagehood is something imparted by heaven (tian), not something that one can stand up and grab for. Since the doctrine of good knowing was first proposed, [though, they] have believed that the good knowing of everyone is the same, and that that which a person receives from heaven is always the same. That which people receive from heaven is that referred to in “Yao and Shun are the same as all people.” Thus lowly and poor people can look within and seek to enter the Way.... The West­erner Rousseau invented the doctrine of “heaven-endowed people’s quan,” according to which goodness is the root nature of all people. [He] hopes that all people will willingly desire the general [good] and all things will return to equality (pingdeng). Although Wang Yangming did not say [precisely] this, in practice the doctrine of “good knowing” and that of “heaven-endowed people’s quan” are mutually the same. That which people receive from heaven is the same, and thus that which [their] quanli attains ought to be without any differentiation. [1936b, I, 25a]

Liu makes some very similar points during his discussion of Wang in the Essentials. He says that Wang’s “good knowing” doctrine originates in Mencius’s teaching that human nature is good, and that Rousseau simi­larly believed human nature to be good in Mencius’s sense. There is ^[177] indeed at least a surface similarity between Rousseau and Mencius on this point. The difficulty, of course, is reading “good knowing” into Rousseau. Liu attempts to do this by emphasizing that good knowing is the same for everyone, regardless of intelligence, position, and so on. Similarly, says Liu, Rousseau stresses that in the state of nature, every­one has the same ability to act freely (ziyou quan) [Rousseau 1987, p. 142 (I.2)]. After the social contract has been established, the law makes no distinctions based on intelligence or power. Thus, Liu concludes, Wang and Rousseau “emerge from the same track” [1936a, III, 3a].

Since my purpose here is not to compare Wang and Rousseau, I will not pursue Liu’s suggestions along these lines. The importance I see in the passages I have just been citing is rather in the ways that they shed light on what Liu means by “quanli.” In both passages Liu emphasizes that since we all have the capacity for good knowing, according to Wang, therefore we all can act morally. There is no division into people good from birth and people bad from birth; even “lowly and poor people can look within,” see what their good knowing directs them to do, “and seek to enter the Way.” In identifying this with “heaven-endowed people’s quan,” Liu seems to be saying that our quanli are our abilities to act morally.

The last sentence I quoted from Liu’s Textbook is particularly impor­tant in this regard. Since our moral potentials, our moral abilities, are all the same, “thus that which [our] quanli attains ought to be without any differentiation.” Recalling that a basic meaning of “quan” is power, we see here that in the context of Liu’s discussion of “that which [our] quanli attains,” the stress seems to be on this idea of “power” or “ability.” We all have the power to achieve morally worthy ends. We all have the ability to contribute positively to the moral betterment of ourselves and our societies.

This fact about our moral capabilities has two complementary impli­cations. First, it suggests a rejection of any paternalistic division between moral superiors and moral inferiors, the former guiding the latter. What­ever we ultimately conclude about the relation between Liu and “Con­fucianism,” we can see that he had no sympathy for the strand of that tradition exemplified by Confucius’s claim that “the people can be made to follow [our path], but cannot be made to understand it” [Analects VIII:8].

Second, it makes clear that Liu will tolerate no excuses for failure to be politically and morally involved in the future of Chinese (and human, for that matter) society. If what one person’s quanli is able to attain is less than another’s, Liu is saying, the fault may very well lie in the agent’s lack of effort. He concludes this section of the Essentials by summariz­ing these twin benefits of both Wang’s advocacy of “good knowing” and Rousseau’s notion of quanli: “this doctrine of good knowing not only accelerates the manifestation of an active spirit by the benighted masses, but also is enough to accelerate [the appearance of] the common people’s disposition to compete for quanli” [1936b, I, p. 25b]. The syn­drome that Liu hopes doctrines like Wang’s and Rousseau’s will spark has two halves: People come to realize that they have legitimate inter­ests and strive to fulfill them, while at the same time recognizing that with these interests come responsibilities. People’s active energies need to be both aroused and harnessed.

6.2.3 Extension

Liu certainly cares about more than just our personal interests. If we turn to his comments on the Analects, for instance, we will begin to see the connection he draws between personal and general concerns. He stresses the reciprocal nature of the relationships discussed by Confucius and uses this to explicate the distinctive conception of the “general” that he finds in the Analects. “Although the way of the Confucians lies in valuing the general,” Liu writes, “the essence of valuing the general lies in doing- one’s-best-for-others (zhong) and using-oneself-as-a-measure (shu)” [1936a, I, p. 11b].^[178] Liu then cites several passages from the Analects, all of which insist that to cultivate oneself and to reach one’s own goals, one has to help others do the same. Like the neo-Confucians we saw earlier in Chapter 4, Liu is drawing on the “social conception of the self” which lies at the heart of Confucianism. We are more than atomistic individu­als: We are partly constituted by, and our well-being is dependent upon, our relationships with others. We have to extend what we care about, therefore, to include others.

Liu believes that reflection on our own lives, selves, and interests should make evident to us how important quanli is to our self-worth and to our ability to play positive roles in our larger community. If we take ourselves as models for the others with whom we interact, we will rec­ognize that the same kinds of personal interests that are important to us will be important to them. Extending our care to others, therefore, involves doing our best to see that they attain the same sorts of personal satisfactions as we do. This is surely a familiar idea to any parent (or spouse or sibling). Part of what makes our lives go well is for the lives of our children (or spouses or siblings) to go well - for them to attain the kinds of quanli that we value. Liu’s point, in other words, is that Con­fucius did not advocate valuing the general at the expense of the per­sonal, but instead taught that the general would grow out of the personal. Quanli seems to represent precisely the kind of personal benefit from which an ethical system must begin.

Extension is not the only metaphor that Liu uses when talking about the need to heed others’ interests as well as one’s own. He also talks of limitation. He writes, for instance, that “freedom (ziyou) of ideology; freedom of action; these are definitely an individual’s quanli. Freedom is what Zhuangzi meant by ‘let it be, leave it alone’.^[179] But freedom cannot be without limits. Thus Chinese ancients always talked of humaneness (ren) and righteousness (yi) together” [1936b, I, 27b]. Liu subsequently defines righteousness as “affairs attaining appropriateness,” and connects this to “restraining one’s freedom” so that one does not “lower another’s welfare” [ibid., p. 28a]. Later, he adds “that which makes righteousness a virtue is its [ability] to limit an individual’s freedom and make it not invade another’s freedom” [ibid., p. 28b].

In the Textbook, Liu writes that “All actions in which one fails to use- oneself-as-a-model (shu) are instances of going beyond the limits of one’s legitimate personal interests and abilities (quanxian)” [1936b, II, p. 31b]. This sort of transgression can come about in either of two ways: (1) We “invade others’ quan by doing things that negate proper distinctions” or (2) we “invade others’ li by coveting improper goods” [ibid.]. Notice that Liu has analyzed quanli into two spheres corresponding to the two terms out of which it is compounded. Quan seems here to refer to the abstract side of one’s interests: the “space” in which one expects to be able to operate, the realm over which one expects to have control. Li, on the other hand, comprises material benefits and interests. We will see later that some Chinese theorists in the 1990s make the same analysis.

On the surface, all this talk of limiting and restraining might sound diametrically opposed to the image of extension that we just examined. Where the previous metaphor encourages us to expand our concerns and even to impose our values on the world around us, this new metaphor speaks of holding ourselves back, of not invading the ability of another person to determine his or her own way.

The key to seeing that the two images are not - at least in Liu’s eyes - in tension, but are actually complementary, lies in Liu’s very traditional definition of righteousness: “affairs attaining appropriateness.” Expan­sion and restraint need not be in conflict. The basic idea is quite intu­itive: We want people to care for others, to try to do for others what they (the carers) think right - but only to a point. In some relationships, we normally welcome a good deal of expansive caring. We accept quite a bit of shaping and guidance from our parents, for instance. Even here, though, there are limits which, if transgressed, make us feel “invaded.” In other types of relationships we may be more likely to feel an elder sibling’s (or a spouse’s) caring as invasive, depending on how strongly she or he tries to persuade us to value things in her or his way.

Still, there are obvious problems. Where does one draw the line between extending oneself to care for others and restraining oneself from invading them? How does one know how much caring is appro­priate? Liu’s answer to these questions draws on a central theme of Con­fucian thought that he sees echoed and confirmed in the writings of Rousseau. There is a pattern of human interrelationship, Liu believes, that makes for a harmonious, happy society of self-motivated people. Confucians referred to this pattern as li; Rousseau called it the general will. In both cases there is assumed to be a way that, given (or despite) the actual natures of people, society can work.

It is particularly interesting that Liu does not make the identification between li and general will in the context of discussing the thinkers best known for advocating li, like the Song-dynasty philosopher Zhu Xi, but instead draws on the writings of the Ming-dynasty official Lu Kun (1536-1618). Lu’s biographer, Joanna Handlin, describes Lu as pes­simistically “capitulating to the ‘selfishness that naturally accompanies human desires’,” and

remind[ing] his fellow officials of their responsibility “to see that the things of the world attain their due.” “If the ignorant men and women... do not fulfill their allotted desires,” Lu elsewhere warned, “the world will not be peaceful.” Aware that “those who do not have enough will die chasing after their shares,” Lu called for a balanced and equitable distribution of goods. [Handlin 1983, p. 134]

What is most important here for our purposes is not Lu’s pessimism but his recognition - however reluctant - of the importance of affirming people’s desires. We can see in Liu’s remarks on Lu the feeling that here Liu has found something of a kindred spirit, especially in the link that Lu suggests between li and shi, which means force, power, or effective­ness. As Liu reads him, Lu argues that reliable, effective political action comes from heeding the proper patterns of human “role-responsibilities” (the li) - which very much include the legitimate desires, interests, and sphere of activity of the common people [Liu 1936a, III, p. 1b].^[180]

This way of understanding the relation between extension and re­straint - that there is an ideal pattern of activities according to which restraint and extension will be in harmony with one another - also brings us back to Wang Yangming’s notion of good knowing. Our faculty of good knowing, according to Wang, is precisely our means for determining our proper place in the overall pattern of human, and even cosmic, activ­ities. Liu’s invocation of good knowing as support for his understanding of our quanli and our responsibilities, therefore, provides further evidence that Liu has just this image of an ideal pattern in mind.

6.2.4 Quanli and Responsibility

The relation between one’s quanli and one’s ability to play a positive role in the community is a theme on which Liu places considerable impor­tance. There is a reciprocal relation, he believes, between one’s quanli and one’s ethical responsibilities (yiwu). This is most clearly illustrated in his discussion of rulers. “Ancient sages,” he writes,

spoke vigorously about the difficulty of being a ruler. Since the people were to be given leisure and joy while the ruler assumed all worries and effort, thus humans’ natural desires (renqing) are such that no one would want to occupy the ruler’s position. Therefore, since the rulers have ethical responsibilities that they are supposed to carry out, they [must also] have quanli that they are supposed to enjoy. [1936a, III, p. 21b]

Rulers merit the quanli they receive because of the responsibilities they assume. Conversely - and perhaps more importantly - they are moti­vated by this quanli to take on and perform the responsibilities that come with ruling. It is important to realize, though, that Liu does not see quanli as simply a reward or incentive for rulers’ performing their roles well. His point is rather that while the role of ruler is a difficult one, it is at the same time very fulfilling. Quanli is analytically distinct from its matching yiwu (responsibilities), but in reality they come together, a package deal. In another section of the Essentials, Liu quotes a famous saying of Wang Fuzhi (1619-92), a Qing-dynasty Confucian, which Liu feels expresses the relationship between responsibility and reward: “heavenly pattern (tianli) is in the midst of people’s desires” [1936a, III, p. 20b]. Liu approves of this sentiment for reasons similar to those for which he cited Lu Kun. Wang is resisting the tendency of many Confu­cians to be suspicious of people’s desires (yu), and instead recognizes the intimate relationship between the fulfillment of such desires and the exercising of moral responsibilities.

Unfortunately, a long parade of unscrupulous rulers in China’s history took advantage of the power that they were granted as rulers to attempt to enjoy much more benefit than their usually meager performances of their responsibilities warranted. Liu calls this “the strong transforming their power into quanli” [1936a, III, p. 20b]. Liu says that he has the Chinese “Three Bonds” doctrine in mind as a specific instance of this evil, since the Three Bonds change what had been reciprocal relations into one-way relations [ibid., p. 21a].^[181] Instead of balancing the loyalty subjects owed their ruler with the responsibilities the ruler owed his or her subjects, for instance, the Three Bonds speak only of the subjects’ loyalty. The Three Bonds attempt to make legitimate, by recharacteriz­ing as quanli, the unearned and unmerited benefits demanded by irresponsible rulers.

Liu’s criticism of the Three Bonds echoes similar charges leveled a few years earlier by his contemporary Tan Sitong (1864-98). Liu is also echoing the views of Dai Zhen, discussed earlier as a central represen­tative of the strand of neo-Confucianism that stresses the legitimacy of personal desires. Just prior to his comments about the Three Bonds, Liu cites several passages from Dai’s writings in which Dai advocates recognizing that everyone has similar wants and desires, and that each allows his own to be manifested only to the degree that is compatible with similar manifestation on the part of others. Dai complains that modern rulers look down on real manifestations of pattern (li) - by which he means following and fulfilling the desires of the people - while using talk of “pattern” to justify all manner of repression [Liu 1936a, III, p. 20b].

I have already noted that Liu approves of Wang Fuzhi’s view of the relation between human desires and the heavenly pattern. Liu adds, though, that Wang is too sanguine about the likelihood of rulers being able to resist the temptation to legitimize undeserved benefits. Wang simply stresses that rulers should follow the feelings of the people - and in so doing, follow the proper responsibilities for rulers as encoded in heavenly pattern. He ignores the legitimate personal spheres of the people, which include the fundamental “ability to act freely (ziyou quan)” [1936a, III, p. 12a].

Wang’s problem, in short, is that he does not take the masses (min) seriously enough as people (ren). Liu believes that rulers’ entitlement to appropriate benefits as part of their quanli is only a special case of the situation into which all people are born: We all have abilities that, when developed, provide satisfaction - that is, quanli - and simultaneously contribute to the general good. It is by developing and exercising these capacities that we use our ability to act freely. Citing Rousseau as his source, Liu asserts that “those who give up their ability to act freely give up that which makes them people” [1936a, III, p. 12a]. For a ruler to impose roles on people, or to deny them their quanli, is to fail to treat them as people.

As I have just indicated, though, the ability to act freely that we all have brings with it important responsibilities. Rulers, therefore, are not the only people responsible for the plight of society that Liu sees in his day: Most individuals have failed to exercise their abilities, so that they, too, may not merit whatever quanli they have managed to obtain. Liu explains:

People all have the ability (quan) to choose their own work (zhiye).³ Let each person see where his or her nature [has made

³⁵ “Zhiye” is the standard term in modern Chinese for “profession,” but in this context Liu’s intention is much broader than our notion of profession, so I translate it as “work” instead.

him or her] complete. Choose [an area] in which his or her talents are strong as that on which to rely to order his or her life (zhi sheng). [When] all people can order their lives, then no one will again need to depend on what others give them; all will be “self-standing people (zili zhi min).”... Thus people’s property cannot be invaded by the government. Thus self-choice of work is a responsibility that all indi­viduals should carry out, and at the same time is the foundation of the quanli that all individuals enjoy. [1936b, I, p. 39a]

The idea is once again that built into our abilities, feelings, desires, moti­vational systems - in a word, our natures - is a path for us to follow, a proper way for us to fit into the larger societal pattern.