‘The young should be held in high esteem. After all, how do we know that those yet to come will not surpass our contemporaries? It is only when one reaches forty or fifty years of age and yet has done nothing of note that we should withhold our esteem.‘ (Confucius 9.23)
Introduction. Youth work and (moral) philosophy
In the second blog in this series I noted that some youth work authors (see for example Young 2006, 2010, Ord 2014, 2016) value and promote the opportunities youth work offers (and the obligations it carries) to explore with young people questions of the Good, living well, how one lives a good life – central concerns of virtue ethics. Ord (2014), citing Kerry Young (2006), argues that ‘youth work’s job is to assist young people to negotiate the morally textured landscape’ and ‘enable young people to make judgments and take action’.
For Young (2006: 3)
Youth work is ‘an exercise in moral philosophy insofar as it enables and supports young people to examine what they consider to be ‘good or bad’, ‘right or wrong’, ‘desirable or undesirable’ in relation to self and others – ‘What sort of person am I?’ ‘What kind of relationships do I want?’ ‘What kind of community/society do I want to live in?’ Fundamentally, youth work confronts Socrates’ question, ‘How should one live?’ Which is both singular and plural in the sense that it asks, ‘How should I live?’ as well as, ‘How should anyone live?’.
The youth work process is, therefore, a reflective exercise that enables and supports young people to:
- Learn from their experience
- Develop their capacity to think critically
- Engage in ‘sense-making’ as a process of continuous self-discovery and re-creation (Young 2006: 5).
This description of youth work invites comparison with the Confucian project of self-cultivation, self-examination and exploration of the values, actions and conditions for living well and living ethically. But it also connects with the philosophical traditions that draw from Daoism, Buddhism and other Chinese schools of thought that make distinct contributions to ideas about what constitutes the Good, and the ‘Good Life’.
In this blog I explore some of the key underpinnings and themes that offer fruitful foundations, touchstones and ideas for exploring questions that conventionally sit within the ‘doing’ of moral philosophy with young people.
When the Great Tao Prevails
Both Confucius and Laozi acknowledge that when Dao prevails in the world there is no need for moral guidance, for rules for social behaviour and/or the conduct of relationships and oneself.
“If the way (dao) prevailed in the world, I wouldn’t need to change it” (Confucius 18.6).
Indeed, when the Dao is absent there is the real prospect, as the Dao De Jing observes, that ‘false righteousness and morality’ will come to rule.
When the Great Tao Decays,
Benevolence and Righteousness
Come into Being
Dao De Jing chapter 18 (Minford 2019)
Conversely,
When the Great Tao Prevails,
False Virtues Disappear
The River Master (Minford 2019)
In times like these, when the world is seriously out of kilter – the Dao in abeyance – we are obliged to turn to moral guidance and cultivation of the knowledge, character and conduct required for living in harmony with each other, human and other-than-human. Brook Ziporyn (2020) channels Zhuangzi himself in his summary of chapter eleven of the Zhuangzi:
‘These things suck, but they aren’t going away any time soon. They have to be dealt with’.
Some way markers
Interconnected self
Chinese philosophy, as I have noted in previous blogs, emphasises our interconnectedness – within, and inseparable from, the natural world which sustains us, and gives us meaning. Responsibility towards others, human and other-than-human, is inherent in the ethical foundations of shared community in Chinese traditions. Our interconnectedness with others is a reality that easily becomes lost in our hyper-individualised culture. This acceptance of our interconnectedness underpins Chinese understandings of the conditions for living ethically, and well.
Cultivation of the self in Confucian philosophy
Preeminent among the Confucian values is the obligation to apply oneself to the study and cultivation of ‘excellent habits of the heart-and-mind’. The aims captured in the idea of self-cultivation are broad-ranging, being ‘not only for aesthetic development, but for moral strength, the social good, and spiritual insight’ (Ames and Rosemont 1998).
The cultivation of self, central to Confucian philosophy, is directed, firstly, towards the development of virtues and traits such as human-heartedness (benevolence), wisdom, courage, being reliable in word, diligence and generosity.
Learning
“From fifteen, my heart-and-mind was set upon learning” (Confucius 2.4)
The pathway to becoming an exemplary person is established, firstly, by a commitment to learning. The learning journey begins early, most consciously and purposefully in adolescence. The benefits and joys of studying and learning are deeply embedded in the Chinese philosophical and cultural tradition (I discuss this further in the following blog).
Youth work offers a broad range of opportunities to engender a positive experience of learning for young people who have been alienated from traditional schooling.
In the Confucian tradition learning and cultivation of self is conducted by studying the key classic texts – the ‘Four Books and Five Classics’ and exposure to models of consummate character and conduct. The Analects provides examples of exemplary – and not-so-exemplary – conduct and attitudes from which to draw lessons.
Daoist ethics
Although Daoist thought is most commonly understood through the lens of wuwei (actionless action) and an assumed absence or rejection of moral prescriptions, this does not mean Daoism is not concerned with ethical questions and ideas of what a good life encompasses. First, as Steven Coutinho notes, the Daoist emphasis on living an ‘unfettered’ life – ‘wandering where you will’ – is always conducted within the bounds of causing no harm to others. And incorporating a perspective which strives to recognise and understand the perspective of others.
A pointer to understanding Daoist ethical practice is signalled in the title of chapter three of the Zhuangzi: ‘Nurturing Life’ (Ziporyn 2020) – also translated as ‘The Primacy of Nourishing Life’ (Watson 2013) and ‘The Secret of Caring for Life’ (Chuang Tzu, translated Palmer 2006).Daoism is, above all, affirming of life in all its manifestations.
The classic early Daoist text, The One Hundred and Eighty Precepts, incorporates specific measures to respect and protect the natural environment – mountains, waterways, forests, earth and the skies. It also incorporates specific references to the protection and promotion of the well-being and safety of others, particularly vulnerable groups such as women, children, the elderly (Schipper 2001).
The values foregrounded in the Dao De Jing, and particularly in the Zhuangzi, are focussed on keeping an open mind (this was incidentally a value promoted by Confucius), appreciation of diversity, valuing those who are routinely disregarded and shunned. Recognising human and other-than-human (our Earth Others) as having an equal claim to care. Being true to oneself – becoming an authentic person.
Examples of ideas, tales and conundrums to explore with young people.
In earlier blogs I shared some tales from the Zhuangzi that give expression to values associated with simplicity and frugality – (the Tapir, the Taylor bird) – and living authentic lives – (Wagging his Tail in the Mud). Other anecdotes in the Zhuangzi illustrate the value of finding the qualities in people, things and situations that are often overlooked by conventional society. Anecdotes that memorably, often comically, illustrate the foolishness of, for example, the drive to control and wield power. And more everyday examples of traits such as stubbornness, anger, argumentativeness.
Living harmoniously with others
In the spirit of embracing harmony, diversity (of opinion) and acceptance of difference, both Zhuangzi and Confucius promote the value of ‘walking together’, even while disagreeing.
The Master said, “You can study with some, and yet not necessarily walk the same path …; you can walk the same path as some, and yet not necessarily take your stand with them; you can take your stand with them, and yet not necessarily weigh things up in the same way.” (Confucius 9:30)
The Zhuangzi contains stories illustrating examples of flexibility and compromise, even if this is achieved through means that are perhaps not so admirable, such as ‘Three in the morning’ (chapter 2). In the Zhuangzi this tale is making a broader philosophical point, recognising that there is no fixed ‘this’ or ‘that’, but depends on the circumstances and situation. But it also works as a moral tale to illustrate the virtues of flexibility.
Once a monkey trainer was distributing chestnuts. He said, ‘I’ll give you three in the morning and four in the evening.’ The monkeys were furious. ‘Well then,’ he said, ‘I’ll give you four in the morning and three in the evening.’ The monkeys were delighted. This change brought them no loss either in name or in fact, but in one case it brought anger and in another delight. He just went along with the ‘thisness’, relying on the rightness of the present ‘this.’ …(Thus the Sage uses various rights and wrongs to harmonize with others, and yet remains at rest in the middle of Heaven the Potter’s Wheel. This is called Walking Two Roads.
Zhuangzi and the Parable of the Monkeys
The angry praying mantis
Of speaking words in anger Zhuangzi observes
Words are like the ebb and flow of the wind-blown seas: the purpose of them can be overwhelmed. The winds and seas are easily stirred, and what was attempted can be swamped and lost. Likewise, anger can be whipped up by cunning words and biased speeches – when anger comes, people bellow their rage like animals being driven to their death, their breath comes out in bursts of distress…. People are driven into a corner, having little idea how they got there but they respond with brutality. They don’t know how this happens, so what hope is there of stopping all this? (Zhuangzi, chapter 4).
Other stories illustrate the folly of the need to ‘win’ in relationships with others. And the pitfall of directing one’s anger at the wrong target, such as the man of Chu, who was angry at the doorman of his lodgings, so in the middle of the night picked a dispute with the ferry man. He didn’t achieve what he wanted, and ‘it made him some enemies’. (Chapter 24).
In the following blog I take up some ideas from the Confucian tradition, framed within the overall aim of developing ‘excellent habits of the heart-and-mind’, to further reflect on how these might contribute some ‘philosophical touchstones’ for the fostering of good practice youth work.