Friday, May 23, 2025

Wang Yangming and the Unity of Knowledge and Action

If knowledge is inseparable from action, as argued by the philosopher Wang Yangming, then failures of action should also be failures of knowledge. If to know is to act, then it may be argued that not to act is not to know, and that failures to act are also failures of knowledge. In this paper, I argue to the contrary that not to act is not necessarily not to know, and that not all failures of action are failures of knowledge.

Wang Yangming (1472-1529) was a Chinese Neo-Confucian philosopher, magistrate, and military commander who lived during the Ming dynasty (1368-1644). His major philosophical works included the Record of Instructions for Practice (Chuanxilu 傳習錄,1518-1529) and the Inquiry on the Great Learning (Daxue wen 大學問, 1527). The Record of Instructions for Practice was a compilation of his conversations and teachings recorded by his disciples, on such subjects as the principle of the heart-mind, the extension of knowledge, and the unity of knowledge and action.
      Wang Yangming differs from Zhu Xi (1130-1200) in emphasizing the investigation of principle (li 理) in the heart-mind (xin 心), rather than in external things. He says that to seek the principle in external things is to regard our innate knowledge or pure knowing of our heart-minds as inadequate, and it is to act as if further enhancement or supplementation of this innate knowledge were necessary.
      The heart-mind is the nature of all human beings and things, says Wang, and nature is principle (li 理). Principle is the reason that all human beings and things are as they are. All human beings have the same heart-mind and the same nature (xing 性). The reason that some people are good and some are evil is that those who are evil have a heart-mind that has lost some of its original substance.1 The original substance of the heart-mind is knowledge and is characterized by the highest good, but those who are evil have lost some of their knowledge of the principle of their own heart-minds.
      We have an innate knowledge of goodness, says Wang. We innately know how to be loving, compassionate, filial, and respectful. However, our innate knowledge of goodness may be obstructed by selfish desires, which may be overcome by the extension of knowledge of our own heart-minds.
      Benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom are all manifestations of the principle of human nature, as are the sense of compassion, the sense of shame, the sense of deference and compliance, and the sense of right and wrong. To have no selfish desires is to be in accord with the principle of human nature, but to have such desires is to not be in accord with it.2 
      Wang says that if we exert sustained effort, then we will gradually see the principle of nature in our own heart-minds. If we do not exert the effort of overcoming our selfish desires, then the principle of nature will not be revealed to us. Its precision and subtlety may be such that we must continuously devote ourselves to the task of self-examination before we are able to see it.
      The investigation of things is like polishing a mirror to make it clear.3 The heart-mind of a sage is like a clear mirror, because it is completely identified with the principle of nature and is not obscured by any impurity. On the other hand, the heart-mind of an ordinary person is like a dull mirror, because it is clouded by selfish desires.
      According to Wang, knowledge is the original substance of the will, and the will is knowledge in operation. Since we have an innate knowledge of the good, we also innately have a will to do good. If our will to do good is not obstructed by selfish desires, then we can fulfill the virtues that are manifestations of the principle of human nature. If our will to do good is also sincere, then we can also rectify any incorrectness in our desires and intentions, and we can promote our own moral cultivation.
      Knowledge must be acted on in order to be called real or genuine. Only when we extend the principles of things to action can we be said to have fully investigated them. Ordinary knowledge (chang zhi 常知) may be separated from action because of selfish desires, but real or genuine knowledge (zhen zhi 真知) cannot be separated from action.4 The unity of knowledge and action (zhixing he yi 知行合一) is such that knowledge is action in its conscious and discerning aspects, while action is knowledge in its practical and concrete aspects.5 
      Thinking is different from pure knowing, insofar as thinking may be correct or incorrect, while pure knowing (liang zhi 良知) is innately endowed knowledge that can distinguish between correct and incorrect thinking. If we rely on pure knowing, then we will never act incorrectly.6 
      Wherever principle is manifested, we should try to preserve it. If it is manifested in being loyal and faithful to a ruler or minister, then we should be loyal and faithful to that ruler or minister. If it is manifested in being courteous and respectful toward our parents, then we should be courteous and respectful toward our parents. We should try to preserve the principle of nature in all relationships by avoiding selfish desires, and by acting according to the rules of propriety.7   
      Wang Yangming disagrees with Zhu Xi's teaching that the investigation of things consists in investigating individual things as we come into contact with them. Wang says that seeking the principle of each individual thing is like seeking the principle of filial piety in parents or seeking the principle of compassion in a child who is about to fall into a well, rather than seeking it in the innate knowledge of our own heart-minds.8 In his view, the investigation of things (gewu 格物) and the extension of knowledge (zhizhi 致知) mean extending the innate knowledge of our heart-minds to individual things, rather than extending the knowledge of individual things to our heart-minds, because the innate knowledge of our heart-minds is actually knowledge of the principle of nature.9 
      Wang's controversial "Four-Sentence Teaching" or "Doctrine in Four Axioms" may be summarized as follows:

      (1) In the original substance of the mind, there is no distinction of good and evil.
      (2) When the will becomes active, there is good, and there is evil.
      (3) The faculty of innate knowledge (or pure knowing) is to know good and evil.
      (4) The rectification of things is to do good and remove evil.
10
 
      He also says that there must be a proper degree of equilibrium and harmony in the operation of the principle of nature. We must attain a state of equilibrium before our emotions are aroused, so that there will be harmony in which our emotions attain their proper measure and degree.11 The way of the sage is the mean between excessive or deficient expression of emotions, between yin (陰) and yang (陽), between tranquility and activity. Equilibrium is found in the principle of nature.12 The heart-mind in its original substance is in equilibrium, and its innate knowledge of principle is characterized by equilibrium and harmony.13
      The substance of the heart-mind is pure knowing, and it is revealed by tranquility. However, it is inseparable from the functions of the heart-mind, which are revealed by activity. Thus, it maintains an equilibrium in which there is harmony between tranquility and activity.
      Wang says that the heart-mind of a sage regards heaven, earth, and all things as constituting one body. Only when we love all human beings can we truly recognize that we form one body with them. Only when we love all mountains, rivers, animals, and plants can we truly recognize that we form one body with all living things. Thus, the learning we should try to attain consists in clearing away the obscurations of selfish desires in order to recognize our original condition of forming one body with heaven, earth, and all things.
      Bryan Van Norden (2014) explains that Wang's theory of the unity of knowledge and action may be seen as a denial of the possibility of weakness of will.14 To examine the implications of this aspect of Wang's theory, we may consider a hypothetical example of weakness of will presented by Robert Audi in a 1990 article entitled "Weakness of Will and Rational Action":

"Consider John, a practiced and conscientious retributivist. He believes that he should punish his daughter for talking hours on the phone when she knew she should study. On reflection, he judges that he should deny her a Saturday outing. But a day later, when it comes time to deny her the outing, he looks into her eyes, realizes that she will be quite upset, decides to make do with a stern rebuke, and lets her go. He feels guilty and chides himself. It is not that he changed his mind; he was simply too uncomfortable with the prospect of cracking down."15

      In Wang's view, since genuine knowledge is inseparable from action, if John truly knew that he should punish his daughter, then he would have done so. Since he didn't do so, he may have had a vague intuition or indefinite belief that he should punish her, but not genuine knowledge that this was the best course of action. If he truly had knowledge that he should have punished her, then this knowledge would also have been an innate knowledge or pure knowing that would have been in accord with the principle of nature in his heart-mind. That pure knowing would have been capable of distinguishing between correct and incorrect beliefs, and if he had acted accordingly, then he could have been certain that he would not be acting incorrectly. 
      The fact that John didn't punish his daughter means that he actually knew that he should refrain from punishing her, so if he believed that he actually knew that he should punish her, then he was mistaken in that belief. Even if he says to himself afterward, "I knew that I should have punished her, but I didn't," and he feels guilty about having changed his mind, his unfulfilled intention to punish her didn't amount to genuinely knowing that he should take that course of action. If he had actually known that he should punish her, then he would have known without even realizing it. There would have been no need of making up his mind about it.
      Wang seems to be making an important point, insofar as if we truly know something, then we should be able to act on that knowledge. The ability to act effectively on a knowledge claim may support the validity of that claim, and the inability to act effectively on it may undermine or cast doubt on its validity.  However, there may also be cases in which we must wait for the right time to act. Practical knowledge may include knowing when to act and when not to act. Thinking may sometimes precede acting, and acting may sometimes precede thinking. Thus, knowledge and action may not be the same thing.
      Weakness of will may not be the only cause of our not doing something that we know we should do. Other possible causes include carelessness, neglect, other competing tasks or obligations, and lack of time and resources.
      Knowing how, rather than knowing that, may also be necessary for knowledge to become action. Practical knowledge, as opposed to theoretical knowledge, may often be helpful and/or necessary for knowing to become acting.
      Joshua Shepherd and J. Adam Carter (2023) argue against the proposition that if we do something intentionally, then we must know what we are doing. As an initial argument, they present a case described by Donald Davidson (1980) in which he is writing heavily on a page, intending to produce ten legible carbon copies, but he does not know or even believe with any confidence that he is succeeding. But if he is indeed producing ten legible carbon copies, then he is certainly doing it intentionally.16 As another argument that we can do something intentionally without knowing what we are doing, they present a case in which the baseball player Albert Pujols steps up to home plate intending to hit a home run and then does so, although he doesn't know that he is actually hitting a home run until he sees the ball landing in the left field seats 340 feet away. He has acted intentionally without necessarily knowing at the time exactly what he was doing.17
      There may also be other cases of people "not knowing what they are doing," for a variety of reasons: ignorance, incompetence, recklessness, intoxication, mental disorders, intellectual disability, etc.
      Many examples may be given of situations in which empirical findings must be confirmed before they can be acted upon: a physician must often wait for the final results of a diagnostic test before making a definite diagnosis and developing a plan of treatment, a medical researcher must often wait for confirmation of treatment results before initiating the next stage of a clinical trial, a journalist must often obtain confirmation of a story from multiple sources before being able to present it for publication, a public prosecutor must often obtain testimony from multiple witnesses in order to convince a grand jury to issue a criminal indictment, and so on. Prima facie evidence must often be further verified before it can be acted upon.
      Is knowledge a disposition to action? If so, then we might assume that a certain kind of knowledge should produce a certain kind of action. The disposition, if triggered, should produce a specific manifestation. An example would be, "If S knows that a child near him is about to fall into a well, then this knowledge will produce an action by S to prevent that child from falling into the well." The disposition to action should not be a disposition to perform merely any random action, if we are saying that knowledge is a reliable guide to action. We may also need to determine whether any extraneous factors may mask the manifestation of the disposition to action, and whether (or to what extent) the manifestation of the disposition may be context-dependent.
      Joachim Funke (2017) asks, "How much knowledge is necessary for action?" He concludes that we must have at least some knowledge (in the form or background representations) in order to act. He also says that we may, at least at a surface level, act against our knowledge. For example, if we smoke cigarettes despite knowing that it is detrimental to our health, we may, at least at a surface level, be acting against our knowledge (although our justification for smoking may have its own rationality).18
      Despite knowing how to perform various actions, we may fail to perform them properly, due to lapses of attention and judgment, impaired motor skills, unintentional slips or errors, and other failures in execution. To examine whether such mistakes represent failures of knowledge as well as failures of action, we may consider the following hypothetical example:

      George intends to major in philosophy, and he knows that he has to take a course in logic in order to fulfill the requirements for the major, but each semester, for various reasons, he fails to register for the course. He can't find any one reason for his failure to register, but somehow he continues to procrastinate. Finally, he asks his academic advisor to register for him, because he knows that if he is given the option to register for some other course, he'll likely forget to fulfill his course requirement for the major. He jokes to himself that maybe he needs to take the course in logic in order to learn how to be more logical.

      Unnecessary delay or procrastination, like weakness of will, may be an example of knowing we should do something but failing to do it, thereby calling into question the inseparability of knowledge and action. Even when we know that there may be adverse consequences of not acting as we know we should act, we may not always act on our knowledge.


FOOTNOTES

1Wang Yang-Ming, Instructions for Practical Living and other Neo-Confucian Writings, translated by Wing-tsit Chan (New York: Columbia University Press, 1963), p. 33.
2Ibid., p. 59.
3Ibid., p. 45.
4Philip J. Ivanhoe, "Introduction to Wang Yangming," in Readings from the Lu-Wang School of Neo-Confucianism (Indianapolis, Hackett Publishing Company, 2009), p. 113.
5Wang Yangming, "In Reply to Inquiries from a Friend," in The Philosophical Letters of Wang Yang-ming, translated by Julia Ching (Canberra: Australia National University Press, 1972), p. 108.
6Wang Yangming, "Reply to Wei Shiyue," in Readings from the Lu-Wang School of Neo-Confucianism, translated by Philip J. Ivanhoe, p. 127.
7Wang Yangming, Instructions for Practical Living, translated by Wing-tsit Chan, p. 16
8Ibid., 98-99.
9Ibid., p. 99.
10Ibid., pp. 38-39.
11Ibid., p. 243.
12Ibid., p. 52
13Ibid., p. 235.
14Bryan Van Norden, "Wang Yangming", in The Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Fall 2024 Edition), URL = <https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/fall2024/entries/wang-yangming/>.
15Robert Audi, "Weakness of Will and Rational Action," in Australasian Journal of Philosophy, Vol. 68, No. 3, Sept. 1990, p. 276.
16Donald Davidson, Essays on Actions and Events (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1980), p. 92.
17Joshua Shepherd and J. Adam Carter, "Knowledge, Practical Knowledge, and Intentional Action," in Ergo: An Open Access Journal of Philosophy, 9 (2023), pp. 556-583.
18Joachim Funke, "How Much Knowledge is Necessary for Action?", in Knowledge and Action, edited by Peter Meusburger, Benno Werlen, and Laura Suarsana, (Heidelberg: Springer, 2017), pp. 99-111.
     

Tuesday, May 13, 2025

Zhu Xi, on the Investigation of Things

Zhu Xi (1130-1200) was a Chinese Neo-Confucian philosopher who lived during the Southern Song Dynasty (1127-1279). He and the Cheng brothers, Cheng Hao (1032-1085) and Cheng Yi (1033-1107), are considered the founders of the Cheng-Zhu School of Neo-Confucian philosophy, while Lu Xiangshan (1139-1193) and Wang Yangming (1472-1529) are considered the founders of the Lu-Wang School. Both schools taught that the heart-mind (xin 心) is principle (li 理), but while the Cheng-Zhu School emphasized the investigation of principle, the Lu-Wang School emphasized the investigation of the heart-mind.
      According to Zhu Xi, the investigation of things (gewu 格物) may enable us to understand the pattern or principle (li 理) in them (the reason they are as they are). There is one pattern or principle in all things, but it may have many manifestations. Li is inseparable from qi (氣, "vital energy," "material force," or "psychophysical stuff"). Without qi, there would be nothing in which li could settle or dwell in order for it to govern the myriad things in the universe. Thus, the diverse manifestations of li are due to differences in the manner in which the myriad things are endowed with qi.
      Qi may accumulate to form matter, but li is neither form nor matter.1 Whenever qi accumulates or dissipates, expands or contracts, integrates or disintegrates, its transformations are governed by li. Li also governs the interrelationships between yin and yang (the two opposing but complementary forces of qi that must be balanced in order for there to be cosmic harmony) and the Five Phases or Agents (wood, fire, earth, metal, and water) that lead to an orderly evolution of the universe.
      Differences in the qi that human beings are endowed with may be due to whether it is bright or dark, clear or turbid, blocked or unblocked. Li or human nature is the same in every human being, but each individual has their own distinctive endowment of qi, which may account for individual differences in moral character. For those individuals whose qi is not clear and bright or who have imbalances in the Five Phases, learning and moral cultivation may enable them to transform their dark or cloudy qi into bright and clear qi so that it no longer obscures the goodness of their human nature, and so that it harmonizes with their natural virtues of goodness (ren 仁), righteousness (yi 義), propriety (li 禮), and wisdom (zhi 智). These cardinal virtues are all manifestations of li.
         If li loses its brightness due to the cloudiness or turbidity of qi, then we may also need to concentrate on it until it becomes brighter (for example, by regulating unruly desires and emotions), just as when a mirror becomes dull or cloudy, we may need to polish it until it regains its brightness and clarity.
     Zhu Xi teaches that learning and moral self-cultivation may be promoted by studying the Four Books (the Analects, Mencius, Great Learning, and the Mean) and the Five Classics (the Documents, Odes, Spring and Autumn Annals, the Rites, and the Book of Changes). They may also be promoted by reverential attentiveness (jing 敬),2 investigation of the principle in things, and investigation of an individual's own heart-mind.
      The heart-mind (xin 心) is principle, and it extends to all the myriad things in the universe. Thus, the natures of all human beings and all the myriad things are the same. Their individual differences are merely due to differences in their individual endowments of qi. Yin and yang and the Five Phases of qi can interact in a myriad of ways. The moral nature of li is such that it can transform qi from turbid to clear, and from dark to bright. Thus, by investigating the principle in things, we can also investigate the principle in the heart-mind.
      However, the principle of the heart-mind is never separated from qi, and indeed qi is the locus of the heart-mind's activity or consciousness. Li and qi interpenetrate, just as the principle and the consciousness of the heart-mind interpenetrate. Thus, the principle in the heart-mind can become an object of consciousness,3 just as consciousness can become a locus for the principle of the heart-mind.
      In order to fully investigate the principle in things, we must have an open heart-mind. If we investigate things to their limits, then we will find that they are all interconnected, and that they all converge in the heart-mind.4 In order to fully investigate the principle of the heart-mind, we must therefore clear away all obscurations of the fundamental goodness of human nature.
      Since human nature is the principle contained in the human heart-mind,5 we may also extend our knowledge of the nature of things by extending our knowledge of human nature. We may better understand the diverse manifestations of principle in the myriad things by better understanding the diverse manifestations of principle in the human heart-mind.
      Zhu Xi distinguishes between substance (ti 體) and function (yong 用) by saying that substance corresponds to the principle of things (e.g. that eyes see things), while function corresponds to their operation (e.g. eyes may open or close to see or not see things). Relationships between ruler and minister, father and son, and elder brother and younger brother are examples of substances, while virtues such as benevolence, respect, filiality, and trustworthiness are examples of functions. The heart-mind is a substance, while its desires, emotions, and other activities are functions.
      Alertness and self-control may help us to overcome selfish desires that may obscure the goodness of our heart-minds. If selfish desires are avoided, then principle will not be blocked and will flow freely.6
      According to Zhu Xi, the heart-mind of heaven and earth has four moral qualities (origination, flourishing, advantage, and firmness), which in their function are comparable to the four seasons (spring, summer, fall, and winter). Thus, the human heart-mind (renxin 人心) also has four moral qualities (benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom), which in their function constitute the sense of compassion, the sense of shame, the sense of respect, and the sense of right and wrong.
      The Great Ultimate is the principle of heaven and earth, as well as the principle of all human beings and all the myriad things.7 Through tranquility it generates yin, and through activity it generates yang. It is the principle of the highest good, and it can be found in all human beings and all things.
      Whether one agrees or disagrees with Zhu Xi about the proper way to promote moral self-cultivation may partly depend on whether or not one agrees that reading the Confucian Classics should be the starting point of moral instruction. It may also depend on whether one agrees that knowledge of the principle in external things is necessary before we can know the principle in our own heart-minds. When asked which comes first, the extension of knowledge (of external objects) or the nurturing of the self, Zhu Xi replies that extension of knowledge must come first.8 While he recognizes both an inner moral cultivation (attained through reading, reflection, and reverential attentiveness to the heart-mind) and an outer cultivation (attained through the investigation of external objects), he seems to favor the outer route as the foundation of moral self-cultivation. If we recognize the principle in things, then we will also recognize the principle in our own heart-minds. Thus, he seems to favor an externalist over an internalist theory of knowledge. To grasp principle, we can look anywhere--at a tree, a bamboo grove, or a father-son relationship.9 The ways in which principle may be manifested in the world are manifold and infinite.


FOOTNOTES

1Zhu XI: Basic Teachings, translated by Daniel K. Gardner (New York: Columbia University Press, 2022), p. 5.
2Ibid., p. 118.
3Ibid., p. 51.
4Ibid., p. 83.
5Ibid., p. 52.
6Ibid., p. 60
7Chu Hsi, "The Great Ultimate," in A Source Book in Chinese Philosophy, translated by Wing-tsit Chan (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1963), p. 638.
8Zhu Xi: Basic Teachings, translated by Daniel K. Gardner, p. 81.
9Ibid., p. 87.