Tuesday, March 25, 2025

Laozi and Self-Effacement in Moral Theory

Laozi (c. sixth century BCE) was an ancient Chinese philosopher who is said to have written the Daodejing (Canon of the Way and Virtue). This ancient scripture is in many ways elusive and enigmatic in its meaning, and it may therefore be worthwhile to consider whether its approach to moral theory is self-effacing. If it is not, then it may have an advantage over deontological, consequentialist, and virtue ethical approaches, and it may be an even deeper source of moral insight and enlightenment.
      What is self-effacement in moral theory? Simon Keller (2007) explains that a moral theory is self-effacing if the relevant considerations it posits as to what is right and wrong may sometimes not serve as motives for action.1 He argues that virtue ethics is self-effacing in the same way that deontological and consequentialist ethics are, and that a lack of self-effacement is therefore not a reason to prefer one of these theories over another.
      According to Keller, deontological theories are self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to conform with moral duty may not be the best motive to perform actions in those situations. Consequentialist theories are self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to bring about the best possible consequences may not be the best motive to perform actions in those situations. Virtue ethics is self-effacing insofar as there may be situations in which the desire to perform the actions that a fully virtuous person would perform in those situations may not be the best motive for performing those actions.
      To provide an example of the self-effacement of virtue ethics, Keller describes a situation in which three friends, Arthur, Benjamin, and Christine, who are sharing a hut in the woods, offer to help a family that is struggling to put up a tent nearby. Arthur's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that he wants to help the family, because they seem to be cold and tired and hungry. Benjamin's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that he wants to be generous. Christine's motive for inviting the family to take shelter in their hut is that she wants to do what a fully virtuous person would do. In this situation, Arthur's motive for helping the family seems to be the most praiseworthy, since it best reflects the kinds of motives that a truly virtuous person would have.
      Laozi might approach the situation by making an assessment of the degree to which each of the three friends' motives and actions conform to the Way. Laozi says in the Daodejing that the Way to Heaven is to benefit, and not to harm. The Way of the sage is to act, but not to strive (chapter eighty-one). To act according to the Dao (the Way) is to act virtuously, but not to strive to be virtuous. In acting according to the Way, less and less is done, until nothing is done, and when nonaction (wu wei) is achieved, nothing will be left undone (chapter forty-eight). That is why the sage can be entrusted to care for everything.
      Laozi also says that the greatest virtue comes from following only the Way (chapter twenty-one), By following the Way, those who yield will overcome, those who bend will be made straight, those who are empty will be filled, those who are worn out will be renewed, and those who have little will gain (chapter twenty-two). Moreover, those who follow the Way do not boast or make a display of themselves (chapter twenty-four). Thus, the sage (the shengren) doesn't seek to be recognized for acting according to the Way. He acts spontaneously by complying with the natural order of things. The more he gives to others, the more he has. He recognizes that he may lose by gaining and gain by losing. He acts by not acting, and thus he achieves everything.
      In following the Dao, we see the interdependence of all phenomena. Good and evil, beauty and ugliness, having and not having, long and short, high and low, front and back are all interdependent (chapter two). The myriad things carry yin and embrace yang. By combining these qi (cosmic energies, life forces, or material forces) or complementary aspects of reality, the myriad things attain harmony (chapter forty-two).
      Thus, the Dao is a path that preserves harmony between yin and yang. It is in accord with the natural order of things. Whatever is contrary to it will not long survive (chapter thirty). It does nothing, and yet it leaves nothing undone (chapter thirty-seven). However, it is also unnameable. If it is named or told, then it is not the Dao. If it is unnamed or untold, then it is the beginning of heaven and earth. It is the gate to all mysteries (chapter one).
      The Dao can be neither seen nor heard. It is formless and intangible. It is neither bright nor dark, neither beginning nor ending. (chapter fourteen). It blunts the sharpness of things, and it darkens the brightness of things. It loosens the tightness of things, and it softens the roughness of things.
      Only when the Dao is lost or abandoned, says Laozi, do benevolence and righteousness arise. Only when there is disorder within the family do filial piety and deference arise. Only when the state is in chaos do loyal ministers arise (chapter eighteen).2
      Moreover, only when the Way is left behind do we rely on virtue. Only when virtue is left behind do we rely on benevolence. Only when benevolence is left behind do we rely on righteousness. Only when righteousness is left behind do we rely on ritual propriety (chapter thirty-eight).3
      To know constancy, says Laozi, is to attain enlightenment. It's also to be open-minded, as well as open-hearted. It's to be accommodating, and to work for the good of all (chapter sixteen).
      If you are a good walker, according to Laozi, then you will leave no tracks. If you are a good speaker, then you will make no slips or mistakes. If you are good at numbers, then you will not need to count or tally. If you are good at closing up, then you will need no locks or bolts. If you are good at binding, then you will need no knots, and whatever you have bound will not be unbound. Thus, the sage takes care of everyone, and he abandons no one. He takes care of all things, and he abandons nothing (chapter twenty-seven). He works without doing, and he practices wu wei (non-striving or nonaction) (chapter sixty-three).
      To practice wu wei is to be pliant and supple, spontaneous and effortless. It is to perfect oneself without thinking about oneself. It is to support others without attempting to gain authority over them. Thus, the sage, by not seeking to be recognized, is recognized. By yielding to resistance, he overcomes resistance. By putting himself behind, he gets ahead. By giving without expecting to be rewarded, he is rewarded. By not seeking to be fulfilled, he is fulfilled.
      In the situation that Keller describes, in which Arthur, Benjamin, and Christine differ in their motives for acting virtuously, Laozi would probably most approve of Arthur, who acts more purely out of generosity and compassion than Benjamin and Christine, who act more out of a desire to see themselves as generous and compassionate. Laozi says that the way of the sage is to act, rather than to deliberate about all the factors that might lead him to act. By being reluctant to accept favor and willing to accept disgrace, the sage can act selflessly without regard to his own personal gain, and by caring for others as he would care for himself, he can be entrusted to care for the whole world (chapter thirteen).
      Laozi would probably approve to a lesser degree of Benjamin's desire to be generous, because although Benjamin is trying to exemplify a moral virtue, Benjamin is also striving to be virtuous, rather than simply acting in accordance with the natural order of things (which would entail simply inviting the family to share his hut because they are tired and hungry).
      Laozi would probably also approve to a lesser degree of Christine's desire to act like a virtuous person would act, because although she's trying to emulate the conduct of a sage, the way of a sage isn't something that can be acquired by assiduous learning or sustained effort. It requires acting selflessly, without regard to whether one can see oneself as acting virtuously.
      In this respect, Laozi's approach to acting virtuously may not fully account for the positive ethical contributions that can be made by an exemplarist moral theory, in which virtuous conduct is modeled on moral exemplars. As described by Linda Zagzebski (2017), exemplarist moral theory may serve the same purposes as deontological, consequentialist, and virtue theories, and it may have the advantage of being structured around a motivating emotion--admiration for moral exemplars. It may also have the advantage of serving as a map, rather a manual, for moral decision-making. It may also meet the needs of different cultural communities by allowing them to identify their own distinct but overlapping sets of moral exemplars.4
      Laozi does, however, devote a great deal of attention to the conduct of a sage and what it reveals about how we should follow the Way. The sage doesn't brag about or expect to be rewarded for his virtuous conduct. The sage is good at saving things and never abandons things. He remains detached from things, but he still takes care of things. He grasps at nothing and therefore loses nothing. He does nothing, but he leaves nothing undone. At the same time, Laozi introduces the paradox that we should avoid "sageliness" or striving to be like a sage (chapter nineteen), because if we do avoid trying to be sagelike, then we will actually be more like a sage in following the Way.
      If we return to Keller's assertion that virtue ethics is self-effacing, then we should also take note of the counter-assertion by Glen Pettigrove (2011) that virtue ethics doesn't necessarily have to be self-effacing. Pettigrove says that self-effacement may be an undesirable quality in an ethical theory, because it may interfere with a theory's ability to provide guidance for action. Self-effacement may also interfere with a theory's ability to train an agent to think about the kinds of things that would be salient for her when she is acting well.5 It may also undermine the ability to love and care for others in the best way, if loving and caring for them in the best way involves loving and caring for them for their own sake, but the theory encourages us to view loving and caring for them as a means to some end.6
      Pettigrove explains that in order to avoid the charge of self-effacement, an ethical theory must adopt a pluralist conception of value by accommodating the fact that there may be different ways in which an action may be good. In order for virtue ethics to avoid the charge of self-effacement, it must therefore offer transparent criteria of what makes an action good, by describing various virtues in terms of the goods they acknowledge, respond to, and/or promote. If it does offer such criteria, then it does not have to be self-effacing.7 A virtue ethical theory may therefore avoid self-effacement by providing not only target-centered criteria for good action, but also a practical wisdom criterion of right action (according to which an action is right only if it is what a virtuous person would do who perceived the details of the given situation correctly).8
      Derek Parfit (1984) takes another approach to self-effacement by saying that if S is a self-interest theory of rationality, according to which it's most rational for us to act in our own self-interest, then S may be self-effacing if it tells us that it may sometimes be rational for us not to act in our own self-interest. S may also be self-effacing if in some cases belief in it would actually not be in our own best interest, and it would actually be in our own best interest to believe in some other theory of rationality. But if S is self-effacing, says Parfit, then that doesn't mean that S must also be self-defeating, because the aim of S is to be true and to be the best theory of rationality. Thus, self-effacement is not necessarily a theoretical defect, because it doesn't show that S is not true and the best theory of rationality.9
     Is Laozi's approach to moral theory self-effacing? If it is, then there may be situations in which the desire to follow the Way is not the best motive for action (on nonaction). But Laozi says, "Everyone knows that when the good strives to be good it is no good,"9 so striving to follow the Way may not be the best way to follow the Way.
      To approach the question in a somewhat different way: if Laozi teaches that it is best to avoid being attached to things, are there situations in which avoiding being attached to things may not be the best motive for action (or nonaction)? It may be argued that not all kinds of attachment are bad. For example, personal or emotional attachment to family members, friends, groups, and communities may motivate us to care for and express our concern for them. If we were to always try to remain detached from them, rather than acknowledge our sense of attachment, then we might run the risk of deluding ourselves about the true nature of our emotional investment, and we might not be able to as effectively promote their flourishing and well-being.
      However, Laozi also says that the sage never abandons others. He cares for them selflessly, and he puts their needs before his own. He shelters them, and he nurtures and supports them. He acts with humility and with no expectation of reward.
      The teachings of the Daodejing may avoid self-effacement with the very first verse: "A Way that can be followed is not a constant Way."10 The Dao eludes self-effacement, because it's pliant and flexible. It's like the stretching of a bow, because whatever is high is lowered, and whatever is low is raised (chapter seventy-seven). It's like a vessel that can never be filled, a wellspring that can never be exhausted. It's a way to cosmic harmony, rather than the way to virtue. It eludes self-effacement, because it reveals that striving to be good may not actually be the best way to be good.


FOOTNOTES

1Simon Keller, "Virtue Ethics is Self-Effacing," in Australasian Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 85, No. 2, June 2007, p. 221.
2Laozi, "Daodejing," translated by Philip J. Ivanhoe, in Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe and Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2023), p. 181.
3Ibid., p. 190.
4Linda Trinkaus Zagzebski, Exemplarist Moral Theory (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2017), pp. 3-4.
5Glen Pettigrove, "Is Virtue Ethics Self-Effacing?", in Journal of Ethics, Vol. 15 (2011), pp. 192-193.
6Ibid., p. 193.
7Ibid., p. 201.
8Ibid., p. 202.
9Derek Parfit, Reasons and Persons (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1984), p. 24. Parfit says that we can't assume that the best theory of rationality will never be self-effacing. However, he also says that while the self-interest theory of rationality is not directly self-defeating, because it doesn't tell us not to act in our own self-interest when it is in our best interest not to, it is indirectly self-defeating, because there may be cases in which it is not in our best interest to act in our own self-interest.
10Laozi, "Daodejing," translated by Philip J. Ivanhoe, in Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe and Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2023), p. 173.

OTHER RESOURCES

Laozi, Tao Te Ching on the Art of Harmony, translated by Chad Hansen (London: Duncan Baird Publishers, 2009).

Lao Tsu, Tao Te Ching, translated by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English (New York: Random House, 1972.

Friday, March 21, 2025

Maimonides, on Divine Attributes

Moses ben Maimon, known as Maimonides (1135-1204), was a Jewish rabbi, philosopher, physician, and astronomer. He was born in Córdoba, Spain, but due to religious persecution, his family was forced to move to Fez, Morocco and later to Palestine and Egypt. He studied the Torah under his father, Maimon ben Joseph, who was a rabbinic judge and scholar, and he also studied medicine, mathematics, and Greek philosophy. He eventually became court physician to Saladin, the sultan of Egypt. He died in Fostat, Egypt and was buried in Tiberias, Israel. His many writings included his Treatise on Logical Terminology (1154), Commentary on the Mishnah (1168), the Mishneh Torah (1178), and The Guide for the Perplexed (1190).
      Maimonides says in The Guide for the Perplexed that while Genesis 1:27 tells us that God created man in his own image, that act of creation doesn't imply that God himself had human form. It is because of man's capacity for rational awareness that he is said to have been created in the likeness of God, not because God has a body or shape.1 God transcends all likeness, and he is incorporeal.
      God has no attributes or qualities, says Maimonides. There are no attributes that can be predicated of God, because predicates signifying the essence or "whatness" of a thing are inapplicable to God.2 There are no factors prior to God's existence by which he might be defined. Indeed, the very term "God" is indefinable.3
      God has no accidental attributes, because he is not a substrate of accidents. There is nothing accidental about his nature or essence. He has no essential attributes, because he does not have a composite essence. He is one in every way, without internal complexity.4 
      God's supposed attributes are nothing but his acts, says Maimonides. God's acts can be known, but not God himself. To say that God has attributes is merely to assign traits to him that seem to be expressed by his actions. Thus, we try to be virtuous by emulating God and modeling our conduct on his actions.
      There is nothing passive about God. God is not affected or changed by any causes or conditions. There is also nothing potential about God. All of God's perfections are fully actualized.5
      Existence, knowledge, and will are not essential attributes of God, because God has no essential attributes. There is no analogy or likeness between his existence and the existence of other things. No predicates can be applied to him, as they can be applied to other things. For anything whose existence has a cause, its existence is accidental and distinct from its essence.6 But for God, who necessarily exists, his existence is his essence, and his essence is his existence.
      Unity and multiplicity are accidents of whatever is one or many.7 God is one, but not by way of oneness or unity.8 God is one in the sense of being unique, not in the sense of being a unity of composite features or attributes. 
      The only proper way of characterizing God, according to Maimonides, is by using negative predicates.9 We can only know or say that God is, not what God is. The more that we affirm about God, the farther we are from knowing him.10 God's perfections should not be viewed as traits or attributes, because he has no traits or attributes. Indeed, he transcends all traits or attributes. Only negative predications, such as "God is not corporeal" or "God is not a contingent being," can bring us closer to knowing God.11 
      God created the world out of absolute nothingness, and God also created time. His creation of the world was therefore not an event in time, because time was part of what he created. Thus, Maimonides rejects eternalism regarding the world's existence.
      God is perfect in his being, says Maimonides. Since there is nothing lacking in God, there is nothing that God fails to know.12 God is his knowledge, and his knowledge is one, although it is of many things of different kinds.13 


FOOTNOTES

1Moses Maimonides, The Guide to the Perplexed, translated by Lenn E. Goodman and Phillip I. Lieberman (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2024), p. 21.
2Ibid., p. 87.
3Ibid., p. 87.
4Ibid., p. 91.
5Ibid., p. 100.
6Ibid., p. 102.
7Ibid., p. 102.
8Ibid., p. 102.
9Ibid., p. 103
10Ibid., p. 106.
11Ibid., p. 111.
12Ibid., p. 389.
13Ibid., p. 194.

Thursday, March 13, 2025

Mencius and Xunzi, on Human Nature

Mencius (Mengzi, c. 371-289 BCE) and Xunzi (c. 310-238 BCE) were two Chinese Confucian philosophers who had very different views of human nature. Their dispute had an influence on the subsequent development of Confucianism, since Mencius had a greater influence on Neo-Confucian philosophers such as Zhu Xi (1130-1200 CE), while Xunzi had a greater influence on Legalist philosophers such as Han Feizi (c. 280-233 BCE).
      Mencius believed that human nature is good, insofar as all human beings tend to have a sense of compassion, a sense of shame, a sense of deference and compliance, and a sense of right and wrong. Without these moral capacities, we would not be fully human. The sense of compassion is the "sprout" of humaneness (ren), the sense of shame is the "sprout" of righteousness (yi), the sense of deference and compliance is the"sprout" of propriety (li), and the sense of right and wrong is the "sprout" of wisdom (zhi). All human beings have these four sprouts, says Mencius, just as they have four limbs (2A6).1
      The four sprouts are innate potentials for human goodness.They must be nurtured and cultivated if they are to flourish and we are to become fully human. If they are not nurtured, then we may lose our innate potential for goodness. However, goodness (humaneness) can always overcome evil (inhumaneness), just as water can overcome fire (6A18).2 Everyone is capable of becoming good.
      Xunzi, on the other hand, says that human nature is inherently evil. If a son defers to his father or a younger brother defers to his older brother, then this is not because the son or the younger brother are naturally unselfish and compliant. It is because they have overcome their inborn disposition to be selfish and noncompliant. Any good actions that we are able to perform require us to exert deliberate effort in order to overcome our inborn tendency to be selfish. Only by following the example of moral teachers and moral standards of conduct can we become deferential and compliant.3 If human beings were naturally unselfish and compliant, then there would be no need to follow the benevolent example of the ancient sage kings.4
      Mencius's position on human nature has an advantage over Xunzi's insofar as it encourages us to look within ourselves for kindness and compassion, as opposed to seeking external models or standards. It also has an advantage insofar as it allows for compassionate actions that are performed spontaneously, as opposed to actions that are only performed after careful deliberation. Mencius sees human beings as having a heart of compassion, and as being able to perform actions from the heart, as opposed to Xunzi, who sees human beings as being able to perform virtuous actions only after conscious deliberation. Thus, Mencius may better explain than Xunzi why we may be emotionally affected or moved when we are confronted by the spontaneous kindness and generosity of others, because such kindness and generosity seems to come from the heart, rather than from conscious deliberation.


FOOTNOTES

1Mencius, translated by Irene Bloom, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe (New York: Columbia University Press, 2009), p. 35.
2Ibid., p. 131.
3Xunzi, translated by Eric L. Hutton (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014), p. 248.
4Ibid., p. 252.

Wednesday, March 12, 2025

Confucius and Mozi, on Ritual

Confucius (Kongzi, 551-479 BCE) sees the practice of ritual as a means of promoting virtue. He sees the sage kings of antiquity as exemplars of virtue, and thus he argues for adherence to the ancient rites and rituals that were practiced under their benevolent rule. He says that he is "A transmitter [of the traditions of antiquity] and not a maker, believing in and loving the ancients" (7.1).1 
      He also suggests that to adhere to ritual is to follow the Way and to obey the mandates of Heaven. He says, "There are three things of which the superior man stands in awe. He stands in awe of the ordinances of Heaven. He stands in awe of great men. He stands in awe of the words of the sages" (16.8).2 
      To adhere to traditional rites of mourning is also to be compliant with our moral duty to be respectful toward parents, elders, and ancestors. Confucius says, "Filial piety and respect for elders constitute the roots of Goodness" (1.2).3  Master Zeng says, "All the Master teaches amounts to nothing more than dutifulness tempered by sympathetic understanding" (4.15).4 
      Confucius also says, "The gentleman puts rightness into practice by means of ritual, gives it expression through modesty, and perfects it by being trustworthy" (15.18).5 
      At the same time, he explains that virtue is best acquired by applying the mean (6.29), and that perfect virtue is in accordance with the constant mean (6.27), so this would seem to suggest that there should be some moderation in ritual observances. He says that in festive ceremonies it is better to be sparing than extravagant, and that in ceremonies of mourning, it is better to be truly sorrowful (to feel true sorrow) than to pay attention to minute details (3.4).6 Thus, observance of traditional rites and rituals should not amount to a labored busyness or an ostentatious demonstration of piety for the sake of one's being recognized as pious and virtuous.
      Nevertheless, strict observance of ritual is necessary, according to Confucius, and if this observance is truly virtuous, then it will be effortless. "The superior man...does not set his mind either for anything or against anything; what is right he will follow" (4.10).7 
      Adherence to ritual observances by benevolent rulers will also promote virtue among the people whom they govern, says Confucius. "When those who are in high stations perform well all their duties to their relations, the people will be aroused to virtue" (8.2).8 
      Mozi (c. 475-221 BCE) has a much different attitude toward ritual than Confucius, and he is sharply critical of him. Mozi says that universal love was the Way of the ancient sage kings (16.15), and that this is what should be emphasized. It was by means of universal love that the ancient kings brought prosperity to their kingdoms. The more elaborate that rituals and music became, the less well governed were the subsequent kingdoms. Ritual observances and music are not a useful means of promoting righteousness or bringing order to the world, says Mozi. What is necessary is universal mutual love.
      Mozi's criticism of traditional rites and rituals is due in part to what he sees as their practical consequences. They don't lead to a better standard of living for the common people. Excessive expenditure of time and effort on lavish mourning ceremonies by families of limited means may lead to depletion of their emotional and financial resources. Workers may also lose work opportunities by having to observe extended periods of mourning. Even rulers may have their financial resources dangerously depleted by having to observe prolonged and elaborate rituals for the dead. Mozi says that there should be moderation in observance of ritual (25.16), just as there should be moderation in other social customs.
      I would tend to favor Mozi's position. Confucius insists that three years of mourning for the death of one's parents is necessary, and that one year is not long enough (17.21). I agree with Mozi that this seems rather excessive. Confucius also seems to accept traditional rites unquestioningly and without looking at their justifications or practical consequences, seeing them as venerable expressions of the righteousness of the ancient sage kings. But Confucius's desire to return to the past seems to be rather regressive in its moral dimensions. Are ancient rites and rituals always appropriate for contemporary society? Shouldn't they evolve in some manner to meet contemporary social needs? Confucius doesn't fully answer the question of whether change can ever be appropriately instituted in traditional rites and rituals. Rather, he sees the failure to strictly adhere to ritual as indicative of a person's failure to be completely virtuous and to meet the moral standard of a "gentleman" or "superior man."


FOOTNOTES

1Confucius, Confucian Analects, translated by James Legge (New York: Dover Publications, 1971), p. 195.
2Ibid., p. 313.
3Ibid., p. 139.
4Kongzi (Confucius), Analects, translated by Edward G. Slingerland, in Readings in Classical Chinese Philosophy, edited by Philip J. Ivanhoe and Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company, 2023), p. 14
5Ibid., p. 45.
6Confucius, Confucian Analects, translated by James Legge, pp. 155-156.
7Ibid., p. 168.
8Ibid., p. 208.

OTHER RESOURCES

Mozi, The Mozi: A Complete Translation, translated by Ian Johnston (Hong Kong: The Chinese University of Hong Kong Press, 2010).

Thursday, February 13, 2025

Confucius and the Rectification of Names

In the Analects (13.3), Confucius (Kongzi, 551-479 BCE) is asked what would be the first thing he would do to administer government. He replies "What is necessary is to rectify names." He explains that if names are not correct, then our language will not be in accord with the truth of things. If our language is not in accord with the truth of things, then human affairs will not be conducted successfully. If human affairs are not conducted successfully, then music and ritual propriety will not flourish. If music and ritual propriety do not flourish, then punishments will not be properly awarded. If punishments are not properly awarded, then society will fall into disorder.1
      According to Confucius, the junzi (gentleman or superior man) rectifies the names that are applied to various kinds of conduct. If names are rectified, then we will know when our conduct is right or wrong. If incorrect names are applied to various kinds of moral conduct, then we may confuse wrong with right or right with wrong.
      If names are rectified, then we will know when someone who has been named a ruler or minister is truly acting as a ruler or minister. We will also know when a father is truly acting as a father, and when a son is truly acting as a son. Confucius explains that "There is government when the prince is prince, and the minister is minister; when the father is father, and the son is son" (12.11). He says that to govern means to rectify [language and moral conduct] (12.17).
      The words of a gentleman are consistent with his actions. He is cautious with his words, and he is earnest in his conduct (4.24). He acts before he speaks, and he speaks according to his actions (2.13).
      Confucius also says that a minister must rectify himself and make his own conduct correct before he can rectify others (13.13).
      False or misleading speech may be socially advantageous or politically expedient in a fallen or corrupt society (6.14). But when names do not correspond to reality, a vessel without corners is called a cornered vessel (6.23), and a man of notoriety is mistaken for a man of distinction (12.20).
      Confucius's theory of the "rectification of names" (zhengming) may be described as a descriptivist theory of names, insofar as he uses the names "ruler," "minister," "father," "son," etc. as descriptions of the (ideal) subjects to whom he refers. These names convey normative assumptions about who can rightly be called a ruler, minister, father, son, etc., and how they should behave if they are to appropriately receive those designations.
      In this sense, a name is like a job description. If someone is called a ruler, then he should fulfill the duties of that job description. At the same time, the name should fit the job description. The name "ruler" should signify what is actually expected of a ruler.
      Thus, the rectification of names means that when a minister is called a minister, he should deserve to be called by that name. When a minister is no longer acting like one, he should no longer be called by that name. Being called a minister entails living up to the moral standards expected of a minister, and when a minister isn’t living up to those standards, he should no longer be called by that name. The same holds true for fathers and sons. Names should be appropriate to the persons or things to which they refer. Thus, the rectification of names may require both a rectification of naming practices and a rectification of the persons or things named.2
      The rectification of names may be based on a number of assumptions. The use of names to refer to persons or things presupposes that those persons or things actually exist (or may actually exist). Otherwise, those names will be empty and won't refer to anything. The use of names as descriptions of persons or things also presupposes that the descriptions implied by those names are not indefinite or ambiguous, and that there are some definite sets of characteristics that belong to those persons or things. It also presupposes that the names used have some stable meaning, and that they are not being used arbitrarily to refer to persons or things to which they shouldn't refer. It also presupposes some shared understanding of the meaning of those names, and a shared adherence to (explicitly or implicitly) specified rules of naming (governing name usage and application). It also presupposes that the subjects or objects named can actually be named.
      Some questions that may arise regarding the use of names as descriptions include: what about the use of non-descriptional names? What if the meaning of a name is context-sensitive, and it varies according to the historical, social, or cultural context? How fixed or changeable are names? What if the name of something is not in accord with the nature or description of that thing?
      The rectification of names also presupposes that there are indeed right and wrong names for things, names that indicate whether those things are good or bad, right or wrong, virtuous or non-virtuous, etc.
      Mozi (c.470 BCE-c.391 BCE) has a somewhat different view of rectification, insofar as he is mainly concerned with rectification of moral character rather than rectification of names. According to Mozi, people of higher social standing should be exemplars of righteousness, and they should be able to rectify people of lower social standing. Thus, the common people should be rectified by the officers, who should be rectified by the generals and great officers, who should be rectified by the dukes and feudal lords, who should be rectified by the ruler (the Son of Heaven), who is rectified by Heaven (26.3). The will of Heaven is for everyone to be benevolent and righteous, and rectification may therefore be transmitted from the top down in the feudal hierarchy.
      Xunzi (c.310 BCE-c.238 BCE) explains that correct naming of things may enable us to gain a better understanding of those things. Correct naming may also enable us to better understand the relations between things. Misunderstanding of things may lead to incorrect naming of those things. Disorders of judgment may also lead us to give incorrect names to things.
      According to Xunzi, we should not recklessly apply names to things. There is an ethics or right and wrong way of naming things. The gentleman is he who uses names that are sufficient to indicate the things to which he is referring. Thus, the names he uses clearly signify his thoughts and intentions.
      Language consists of more than names, so a theory of names is not in itself a complete theory of language. Language may be used not only to name things, but also to report things, to explain things, to speculate about things, to ask questions, to make requests, to make demands, and to perform other acts of communication.
      Some dictionary definitions of the word "name" include:

"1. a word or a combination of words by which a person, place, idea, etc. is known or designated. 2. mere designation, as distinguished from fact: He was a ruler in name only. 3. something that a person is said to be, esp. by way of insult or reproach: to call a person names. 4. reputation of any kind: to protect someone's good name. 5. a distinguished reputation: to make a name for oneself. 6. a widely known or famous person: She's a name in show business. 7. a symbol of divinity. 8. a body of persons grouped under one name, as a family or race. 9. by name, a. by one's own name: to address someone by name. b. not personally; by repute: I know him only by name. 10. in the name of, a. with appeal to: In the name of mercy, stop that screaming! b. by the authority of: Open, in the name of the law! c. on behalf of. d. under the name of: money deposited in the name of a son."3

      A name or term may have an extension or denotation insofar as it defines the class of persons or things that it denotes (or to which it applies). It may have an intension or connotation insofar as it defines the set of attributes that are shared by all the persons or things that it connotes (or implies), and that are shared by only those persons or things.
      Another way of saying this is that a name's extension or denotation is the class of persons or things to which it can be correctly applied. Its intension or connotation is the set of attributes or qualities that it implies or calls to mind.
      There may be personal names (first, middle, and last names, nicknames, aliases, titles, etc.), as well as place names. There may also be conventions for naming persons, places, and things.
      Plato's Cratylus examines the question of whether names may be assigned correctly or incorrectly to things. The Cratylus is a dialogue between Socrates (an Athenian philosopher), Cratylus (a young scholar), and Hermogenes (the son of a wealthy aristocrat). It is mainly concerned with the truth and correctness of names.
      In the dialogue, Hermogenes tells Socrates that Cratylus has said that names are natural and not conventional, but Hermogenes then asks Cratylus whether his name would be Hermogenes if that was what people called him.
      Hermogenes questions whether there is any correctness in names by saying that if Cratylus were given a new name, then that name would be as correct as his old one. No name is therefore given to anyone or anything by nature. All names are merely a matter of convention.
      Socrates replies that names may be parts of propositions and therefore have some truth value. If propositions may be true or false, then names may also be true or false.
      Hermogenes answers, however, that different names may be used for the same thing, so the truth of a name may be relative to the context in which it is used.
      Socrates replies, however, that names are not arbitrarily assigned to things. Rather, they are assigned as a means of distinguishing between the natures of those things. The most proper names for things may therefore be the most natural names for those things. Cratylus may therefore be correct in saying that all things by nature have proper names.
      Socrates also says that different names may be assigned to the same thing if they share the same meaning. All names are intended to indicate the natures of the things they represent.
      Cratylus answers that one name is therefore not better than any other, and that if a name is incorrectly assigned to something, then it is not actually the name of that thing. There are no incorrect names for things.
      Socrates says, however, that if names are imitations or likenesses of things, then there may be correct or incorrect ways of assigning them. If names are correctly assigned to things, then they will indicate the natures of those things.
      J.S. Mill (1881) distinguishes between individual names (names that can be truly affirmed, in the same sense, of only one thing) and general names (names that can be truly affirmed, in the same sense, of each of indefinitely many things). Thus, "John" is an individual name, while "man" is a general name.
4 
      General names differ from collective names, according to Mill, because a general name can be predicated of each individual in a multitude, but a collective name can be predicated only of a multitude as a whole. While "the 76th regiment" is a collective name but not a general one, "a regiment" is both a collective and general name.5 
      Names may also be concrete (if they stand for things) or abstract (if they stand for attributes of things). Thus, "man" is concrete, while "humanity" is abstract.
      Mill says that names may also be connotative or non-connotative. A name is connotative if it denotes a subject and implies an attribute. It is non-connotative if it denotes a subject or attribute without implying anything about its attributes. All concrete general names, like "man" and "woman," are connotative, but proper names like "John" and "Mary" are non-connotative, because they don't indicate or imply anything about the attributes of the individuals who bear them. Thus, proper names can be assigned to individuals without saying anything about them. Whenever names have any meaning, their meaning therefore resides not in what they denote, but in what they connote.
6 
      Names may also be positive or negative (e.g. "good" and "not-good"), and relative or non-relative (e.g. "father" and "son" are relative names, as are "ruler" and "subject," but absolute names are non-relative).7 
      Bertrand Russell (1919) distinguishes between the use of names as names (having meaning in their own right) and the use of names as descriptions (of the things to which they refer). He says that in practice names are frequently used as abbreviated descriptions. The sentence, "Scott is the author of Waverley" is an example of the difference between a name and a definite description. "Scott" is a proper name, while "the author of Waverley" is a definite description. Descriptions may be definite or indefinite. "The man" is a definite description, while "a man" is an indefinite description. If the name "Scott" is taken to mean "the author of Waverley," then this may be an example of a name being taken as a definite description.
      John Searle (1950), on the other hand, says that proper names differ from definite descriptions by not specifying any characteristics of the objects to which they refer. The proper name "Scott" refers to the same person as does "the author of Waverley," but it doesn't specify any of his characteristics. The use of his name may presuppose a set of uniquely identifying characteristics belonging to him, but it doesn't indicate which ones are presupposed. Thus, the usefulness of names is partly due to the fact that they allow us to refer to things without having to come to agreement on what exactly are their defining characteristics, so names actually function not as descriptions, but as "pegs on which to hang descriptions."
8
      Saul Kripke (1972) distinguishes between names and descriptions by saying that names are rigid designators (they refer to the same objects in all possible worlds), while descriptions are nonrigid designators (they do not necessarily refer to the same objects in all possible worlds). At the same time, he distinguishes between using a description to give a name its meaning and using a description to determine a name's reference.9 He rejects the descriptivist theory of names both as a theory of meaning and a theory of reference.
      If a name were a description, then it would not necessarily designate the same object in all possible worlds, says Kripke, since other objects could have the associated description in other possible worlds. If, for example, the name "Aristotle" is taken as an abbreviated description for "the greatest man who studied under Plato," then in another possible world some other man could be "the greatest man who studied under Plato." Moreover, in another possible world, Aristotle could never have studied under Plato at all.10
      Kripke offers a causal theory of reference for names as an alternative to the descriptivist theory. After an object is initially "baptized" with a name, that name may be passed from link to link in a chain of communication. Thus, the reference of the name may be established by a sort of causal chain from person to person. Each user of the name is linked to the next user by the chain of communication.


FOOTNOTES

1Confucius: Confucian Analects, The Great Learning & The Doctrine of the Mean, translated by James Legge (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1971), pp. 263-264.
2Bryan Van Norden, "Confucius on Language: How NOT to Rectify Names," online at https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K3EdDp1YoZc&t=137s
3The Random House College Dictionary (New York: Random House, 1980), p. 884.
4John Stuart Mill, A System of Logic (New York: Harper & Brothers, 1881), p. 32.
5Ibid., pp. 32-33.
6Ibid., pp. 34-37.
7Ibid., pp. 41-42.
8John R. Searle, "Proper Names," in Mind, 67 (1958), p. 172.
9Saul Kripke, Naming and Necessity (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1972), p. 5.
10Ibid., p. 56.

OTHER RESOURCES

Bertrand Russell, "Descriptions," in Meaning and Reference, edited by A.W. Moore (Cambridge: Oxford University Press, 1993)., pp. 46-55.

Mozi, The Mozi: A Complete Translation, translated by Ian Johnston (Hong Kong: The Chinese University of Hong Kong Press, 2010).

Plato, "Cratylus," in The Dialogues of Plato, Volume III, translated by Benjamin Jowett (Oxford: Oxford Clarendon Press, 1875).

Xunzi, Xunzi: The Complete Text, translated by Eric L. Hutton (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2014).