Eric Sean Nelson (Department of Philosophy, University of Massachusetts Lowell)

REVIEW OF N.J. Girardot, James Miller, Liu Xiaogan, Daoism and Ecology: Ways within a Cosmic Landscape (Harvard University Press, 2001). 478 Pages.

DAO: A JOURNAL OF COMPARATIVE PHILOSOPHY

Volume II • Number 2 • Summer 2003 • ISSN: 1540-3009.  Pages 342-345

This excellent collection is part of a series of volumes on the ecological significance of the world religions which, like its predecessors, is based on a conference sponsored by the Center for the Study of World Religions at Harvard University. This anthology is of particular interest because it gathers essays both for and against the ecological significance of Daoism. In addition, a number of the essays challenge beloved motifs of comparative philosophy by undermining the distinction between philosophical and religious Daoism and throwing into question the “romantic” ecological reading of classical Daoist texts.

The distinction between philosophy and religion is especially ambiguous and problematic in the case of Daoism, since there are many Daoisms even if there is only one Dao. Daoism can be interpreted as a philosophy of wise sages, an aesthetic of poetic literati, a libertarian or libertine politics, and/or as a contradictory set of popular religious practices and institutions. Even if we consider Daoism as a popular religion, it blends into the practices and beliefs of Chinese folk-religion—as shown by the papers in section four. Insofar as Daoism can be distinguished from its milieu, religious Daoism includes and flows into a great wealth and variety of practices and goals—from the focus on techniques of spiritual self-discovery and transformation (inner alchemy), to the promotion of bodily longevity and the martial arts, to practices such as astrology and geomancy, to rites dedicated to various gods and immortals, and to forms of alchemy, magic and sorcery.

This diversity can already be seen in the first section. It is a prolegomena to the questions driving the volume as a whole, since these papers closely examine Western ecological accounts of Daoism. Jordan Paper’s article criticizes both the faddish uses and basic misinterpretations of Daoist texts in ecological thinking, and suggests that we need to reject “romantic fantasies” about Daoism in favor of a more informed perspective which interprets Daoism in relation to its Chinese context. He concludes that we can learn more ecologically from Chinese rituals based on the pragmatic character of Chinese traditions as a whole and the rujia tradition in particular. In a similar vein, E.N. Anderson argues for the superiority of a Confucian/Levinasian approach to nature. Although morality might be arguably more important than mysticism for ecological thinking, this argument is strange given that Levinas’s thought is also religious and it only recognizes the ethical significance of the alterity or transcendence of God and the inter-human. Daoism, however, calls for a yielding responsiveness to all things in their immanence, human as well as inhuman.

Joanne Birdwhistell continues the skeptical tone toward deep ecology, arguing from an ecofeminist perspective that deep ecology remains tied to male structures of domination and oppression. She suggests that although classical Daoism offers some useful insights, its structural similarities to deep ecology, and dismissive treatment of women, show that it is equally problematic for contemporary thought. Although these criticisms should be taken seriously, she too easily conflates universalism and holism. She sees no difference between the Enlightenment rationalism that asserts the priority of universal governing laws which subsume all particulars, and the holism that suggests the singularity in contextuality or the dynamic interconnectedness of particulars. Daoism does not, in this sense, seem to demand a governing principle or archē. As other papers in this volume indicate, a number of Daoist texts ultimately affirm that which is beyond duality—yin and yang, heaven and earth, male and female—rather than culminating in the affirmation of the dominant term like the primacy of heaven. Daoism often proceeds beyond duality via the affirmation of the supposedly “lesser” term. If a male Daoist has to become more like a woman in order to become more like the Dao, this does presuppose the lower status of women in this society which many Daoists no doubt affirmed. But, in a different reading than Birdwhistell’s, a woman is perhaps in a better position to overcome duality in already being closer to the Dao instead of being left without options. Otherwise we will be in danger of missing and dismissing the practices of Daoist women, who did find live options for themselves in Daoism.

Michael LaFargue deepens the rejection of deep ecology in favor of a “confrontational hermeneutics” that exposes the otherness of the text. He argues that the only way to make sense of the Daoist attitude toward nature is to realize that Daoism does not oppose nature and culture as mutually exclusive terms. In Daoism, becoming like nature also means assisting and promoting nature. Nature is understood as a part of human culture that needs to be cultivated rather than as a “wilderness” isolated from human activity. It is important to note, however, that the Daoist ideal involves human accommodation to nature as well as the human cultivation of nature. Daoism calls for a fundamental responsiveness to nature. This insight might be lost given the strong emphasis that the papers in section one place on social, linguistic, and cultural “construction.” As Derrida has shown with respect to justice, not everything is or should be de/constructable. Perhaps it is the endless “constructions” of nature—whether intended for well or ill—that need to be questioned if we are to become ecologically responsive to nature as something other and more than the human. Terry Kleeman’s article also discusses Daoism as an art of resource management, but through its religious rituals. The celestial hierarchy of gods and their servants embodies an ordered bureaucracy that demands the wisdom, service, and respect of the priest.

One recent tragedy is the ecological degradation seen in cultures that are supposedly more ecologically insightful than the West. The skeptics in this volume thus always point to the ecological crisis in East Asia as an indication that Daoism, Confucianism, and Buddhism are ecologically helpless in the face of modernization. Whether it is communist China and North Korea or capitalist South Korea and Taiwan, there has been more ecological devastation in the last century than in the entire history of East Asian civilizations, which are famous for transforming nature through irrigation and the expansion of agricultural lands since antiquity. Yet it should give these critics pause that this has occurred under the loss of traditional environmental practices—in which respect for nature was enforced with religious sanctions—and the dominance of Western ideologies and patterns of competition. On the opposite interpretive extreme, one should also be wary of the appropriation of Non-Western religions and philosophies as raw material for raiding expeditions that mine texts and traditions for “resources,” which are torn out of their context and adopted to other agendas without any respect for their otherness or their own independent character. Creative interpretation is necessary, since this is how traditions are transmitted across cultures, but so is a responsive hermeneutics in intercultural understanding.

The papers in section two and three establish that there is an ecological core and depth to the Daoist religious tradition as well as traditional Chinese folk practices. Western philosophers have unfortunately tended to neglect classic Daoist religious texts, but some of these provide the most ecologically sensitive accounts of the theoretical and practical relationship between humans and nature. Kristofer Schipper’s excellent paper discusses the environmental rules and policies of early Daoist communities as articulated in texts such as the One Hundred and Eighty Precepts. These practical precepts for non-sages embody the Daoist ideal of recognition of, respect for, and responsiveness to the independent course of nature and all things (whether human or inhuman). The articles by Chi-tim Lai, Zhang Jiyu and Li Yuanguo, and Robert Campany provide insightful accounts of the ecological implications of Medieval Daoist thought and practices concerning nature in texts such as the Scripture of Great Peace (an account of human responsibility and guilt for the maladies of nature and destruction of peace), the Scripture of Unconscious Unification (an account of the stealing and potential harmony between the three powers or qi: heaven, earth, and the myriad or ten-thousand things), and the alchemical writings of Ge Hong. These papers focus on the Daoist insight that we need to respect and be responsive to the spontaneity and independence of all things—to their own intrinsic nature or self-so-ness (ziran). This can stimulate an active intervention in nature for the sake of nature as the last paper and the papers of section three emphasize in their discussion of Daoist alchemy and exploration of nature as well as popular folk-practices like Fengshui and gardening.

Whereas the fifth section provides a provocative discussion of practical ecological concerns in contemporary Daoism, and includes an important declaration on the environment by the Chinese Daoist Association and a concluding roundtable discussion, the contributions of section four attempt to evaluate the significance of Daoism for environmental philosophy. The papers by David Hall and Roger Ames continue to develop their provocative project of articulating the eco-philosophical import of Daoism by beginning with the Daoist experience of language and nature and showing how it provides an alternative basis for ecological sensibilities. Hall’s paper indicates how the Daoist “aesthetic,” as he perhaps inappropriately calls it, involves the natural parity of all (the myriad or ten thousand) things, the rejection of anthropocentric and objectivistic portrayals of the world, and the non-referential use of language. Daoist language aims at deference toward nature rather than at objectivating reference to objects. Daoist action and understanding occur through unprincipled or anarchic knowing (wuzhi), nonassertive action (wuwei), and objectless desire (wuyu). Ames develops the following features of Daoism: the priority of process and change over form and stasis, a focus on situation instead of agency, an understanding of the body as located in nature rather than separated from it, the mutuality and interdependence of things in their particularity or oneness without the one, the priority of the poetic and the way over the analytic and the truth, an emphasis on a contingent and negotiated harmony rather than teleology, an attention to the indeterminacy and uniqueness of particulars that leaves open the novel and site-specific, and the Dao as a dynamic interconnecting whole of particularities that is without boundaries.

Russell Kirkland introduces a more skeptical note by unfolding all the ways in which the classical Daoist philosophers were not environmentalists, humanists, or do-gooders. Daoism aims at spiritual enlightenment and indifference toward the suffering that is part of nature rather than at the humanitarian and heroic intervention demanded by environmental activists. He thus argues that wuwei (non-activity) calls for passivity and worldly indifference. Although there is much that is right in Kirkland’s article, his argument is powerfully answered by the following two papers. Whereas Lisa Raphals shows how wuwei implies indirect and humble activity through self-cultivation, Liu Xiaogan articulates how wuwei is itself a balance or mean between minimal activity and maximum results such that one avoids the (often unintentional) destructive consequences of one’s own actions. They establish the ecological significance of wuwei by developing its proper meaning as a non-assertive rather than in-active and in-different activity. If our ecological plight is due to human independence from and mastery of nature, including the continuing dominance of this paradigm in environmentalist activism, then Daoist doubts about human arrogance and separateness might be salutary. This volume is a valuable contribution to the literature on Daoism and ecology. It allows us to appreciate that the strength of Daoism for ecological and environmental thought and practice lies in its recognition of nature's power and fragility as well as our dependence and role in promoting or harming the self-organizing web of interconnected particularities. Daoism requires an understanding on our part of how we relate to nature from within nature itself. That is, it is a question of our attunement and accord with nature, a question of whether humans can save themselves from their own activities and practices by listening and yielding to something other than themselves to which they nevertheless fundamentally belong and are claimed. Daoism is in this sense both religious and naturalistic. As such, it is incompatible with many of the humanistic and modernist assumptions of contemporary environmentalism. Yet its meaning cannot be reduced to how useful it is for ecology. We are called not only to think and live ecologically but in accordance with the spontaneity of nature itself—to yield to nature in order to let it occur through us.

© 2003 Eric Sean Nelson