In 2016, Michael Sandel came to China again and had an in-depth discussion with domestic and foreign scholars in various fields of Chinese philosophy. The participating experts reflected on Sandel's political philosophy from the core concepts of Chinese philosophy, including "justice", "community", and the Confucian concept of "people". Sandel also gave his own response to these reflections and criticisms.
The book "Meeting China" includes the results of this discussion. In Sandel's response, he begins by mentioning that his long-term experience with Chinese scholars and students has made him realize that much of the inspiration gained through dialogue comes from "within traditions" rather than "between different traditions." Sandel has long been considered one of the representative philosophers of contemporary European and American communitarianism, known for his critique of liberal political philosophy. His emphasis on the concept of community is consistent with traditional Chinese philosophy in the direction of thinking. For example, in Li Chenyang's view, Sandel's concept of "community" is "too thin" because it does not give enough attention to "harmony", but Bai Tongdong believes that Sander's concept of "community" is "too thick" because it gives too high moral requirements to "stranger society". Through this dialogue, Chinese and Western philosophies were able to reflect on themselves in the reflection of each other. The following is Part of Sandel's response to the discussion of other scholars, and is excerpted from "Meeting China" with the permission of the publisher, with deletions.
Original author | [US] Michael Sandel / [US] De Ambo ed
Excerpt from | Liu Yaguang
Meeting China: A Dialogue between Chinese and Western Philosophy, by Michael Sandel [USA] / De Ambo, ed., CITIC Publishing Group, 2022-1.
01
Justice, harmony and community
To meet a philosophical tradition is not only to grasp some of its core concepts, but also to see the differences within it about how to interpret those concepts. Sometimes, comparisons between different cultures can shed light on the differences within them. Let's consider the typical contrast between Western philosophy and Chinese philosophy: the Western philosophical tradition is individualistic, emphasizing autonomy and free choice; Chinese philosophy is communityism, emphasizing family, harmony, and filial piety. This classic contrast is true, but it obscures a great deal of complexity.
Some of the articles in this book reflect these complexities. I have benefited greatly from these articles, not only in understanding the concerns between my own research and the Confucian tradition, but also in the various interpretations that emerge in contemporary Chinese philosophy. I also experienced a philosophical vertigo that came from my view and was unusually challenged.
Many of the articles in this book use Chinese philosophy to reshape the well-known debate between liberals and communitarians. At the heart of the debate is how justice should be understood: should a righteous society try to be neutral between specific notions of virtue and a good life, or should it endorse a conception of goodness and try to cultivate certain virtues among its citizens? There is also a related question: Should we think about justice without our associations with family, friends, neighbors, and compatriots, or should our understanding of justice reflect this fidelity and fidelity?
Those who hold the second view, that is, those who associate justice with virtue, the good life, and the various bonds that define our identity in this world, are closely related to the communityist critique of liberalism. In Anglo-American political philosophy, the terms associated with the debate are all too familiar: the communitarians argue that it is impossible for us to define justice, either implicitly or explicitly, without invoking substantive notions of the good life. The liberal advocates provide a framework of rights that is neutral to the moral and religious beliefs espoused by citizens; such claims create resentment among some whose moral convictions are ignored or excluded. Liberals respond that people in pluralistic societies struggle to agree on a common understanding of the meaning of virtue and the good life, so that basing the law on different moral and religious notions would open the door to coercion and intolerance, and impose the values of the majority or those in power on the individual.
One aspect of the debate is related to different understandings of the self and community. I have always argued that understanding ourselves as an "unfettered self" that precedes and is independent of various roles and relationships leads to a barren, community-dependent notion. Many liberals counter that if man is seen as defined by moral bonds that precede choice, it is in conflict with freedom.
I have long been accustomed to the idea that the concept of community I espouse is too morally demanding, or in the words of a philosopher, "too thick," and I find it interesting when I am criticized for saying that my concept of community is "too thin." Li Chenyang, a scholar of Confucianism who teaches in Singapore, was the first to identify some close connection between my view of community and Confucianism: "The Confucians will not hesitate to accept Sandel's conception of community as a primary value. In the Confucian view, individual identity is to some extent defined by social relations and is indispensable to the overall community structure. He goes on to describe an important difference: "Confucianism can also accept Sandel's many criticisms of liberalism. But in the Confucian view, Sandel's version of communitarianism is too thin for a robust communitarian society. Confucianism advocates a thick conception of community, which is essential for the prosperity and well-being of man."
In Li Chenyang's view, the reason why my argument is too thin is because there is not enough emphasis on "harmony", which is "the core of the Confucian community concept". "Harmony" is such a vital virtue of social life that Confucianism believes it is superior to justice. "In the Confucian view, practicing virtues such as 'courtesy' and 'benevolence' can build positive interpersonal relationships. These virtues enable people to form a strong sense of community. In such communities, the supreme virtue is a harmonious relationship, not justice."
The Arrogance of the Elite: How Should a Good Society Define Success? Michael Sandel, Edition: CITIC Press Rover, 2021-9.
How can we understand that harmony, not justice, is the primary virtue of the social system? As I ponder this, I recall a critical passage in my first book, The Limits of Liberalism and Justice. In my criticism of Rawls's statement that "justice is the primary virtue of the social system," I point out that for some social systems, especially the family, virtue is the primary, not justice. Because family members are closely connected based on love, generosity, and mutual affection, the issue of justice is less prominent (Sandel 1982:32-35). Of course, no matter how harmonious a family is, it is impossible to be free of conflict. But what I mean here is simply to say that the primacy of justice depends on the attitude and disposition to be cultivated by a good family or community.
Some have criticized my assertion, saying that it implies an ideal family harmony that ignores traditional gender hierarchies and the oppression of women (Friedman 1989: 275–290). This oppression does exist and is unjust; if we say that justice does not apply to the family, it is patently wrong. But this does not solve the question: how can justice and harmony be seen as virtues of family life or social life in general? The answer to this question depends on how we understand these virtues.
Before I encountered the Chinese tradition, I did not think of harmony as the primary virtue of social life. While my criticism of the unbound self, and the idea of community that I argue for that is deeper than the social contract tradition, can stand, I have always defended a pluralist notion of public good, in which citizens are able to discuss moral and even religious issues in public. Such arguments are usually louder and less harmonious.
I have always been wary of Jean-Jacques Rousseau's concept of the public will, which is uniform and undifferentiated. Rousseau tells us that when public will prevails, the collective is silent. The silence here is not because dissent is suppressed, but because the will of each individual is completely in accord with the common will, and therefore there is nothing to debate. Like Rousseau, and as I understand the Confucian tradition, I see civic life as a constitutive undertaking and care for the cultivation of civic qualities. However, I do not think that this cultivation should dissolve the unique goodness expressed in different lives. Persistent noise, disharmony, and disagreement do not necessarily indicate that selfishness triumphs over public good. They may mark a sound pluralism that reflects the ongoing debate over the meaning of the public good.
Is this pluralism compatible with a harmonious society? Li Chenyang explains this problem by distinguishing between two concepts of harmony. One is harmony as consistency, which overcomes discord by dominating and suppressing dissent. He rejects this recurring misconception that it "gives a bad reputation to Confucian harmony" and proposes another conception of harmony, namely, the cause of self-cultivation as individuality and collectivity, which enables each person to realize his or her potential and at the same time promotes public good. "In all kinds of harmonious communities, each individual not only forms and discovers his own identity, but also contributes to the identity and well-being of other members; in harmony with others, everyone benefits from the contributions of the members of the community ... The Confucian concept of community is a kind of social harmony that can only be achieved through the mutual transformation of members of society for the sake of public good. Lee gives an example: Singapore's population is made up of Chinese, Malays, Indians and other ethnic groups, and recently they have tried to promote a social harmony that includes proposals to rotate the election of presidents among different ethnic communities (an elected but only symbolic post). Some may complain that this rotation system deprives certain aspiring candidates of the right to run in a given year, but that this right should be subordinated to harmonious considerations. Having all groups represented creates a strong sense of citizenship and Singaporean citizenship. Li Chenyang said: "This move can be proved on the basis of Confucian harmony philosophy. ”
Liberalism and the Limits of Justice, by Michael Sandor, edition: Translation Forest Press, 2001-4.
Bai Tongdong, who teaches Chinese philosophy at Fudan University in Shanghai, gives a different, Confucian discourse on community. He thinks my view of community is not too "thin" but too "thick" – what he calls a "stranger society" is morally demanding. He agreed that we have certain loyalties and obligations on our shoulders that do not come from acts of will, but from our identity as family members and citizens of the country. He also agreed that such loyalty had sufficient moral weight to rival the obligation to arrest the murderer. Bai Tongdong quoted me as saying in "Justice: What to Do Is It Good?" One example given in the book is the refusal of a Massachusetts public official to help the government find his brother, the leader of a notorious criminal gang and a murderer who has been on the run and away from the government (Sandel 2009:237-239). Bai Tongdong points out that this story bears a striking resemblance to a situation mentioned by Mencius (Shun is the Son of Heaven, Gao Tao is a soldier, and Blind Eye kills people). Should Shun interfere with the police chief to protect his father, or should he allow the police chief to arrest his father? Mencius believed that Shun should give up the throne, flee with his father, and go into seclusion.
Although Bai Tongdong agrees that loyalty to the family and loyalty to the larger community sometimes outweighs universal moral obligations, he defines two differences between what he understands of Confucianism and my discourse on morality and civic virtues: First, only "a few" can develop sufficient virtues to participate effectively in politics. Thus, Confucianism "rejects the strong republican tendencies of communitarianism" and supports a meritocracy in which learned, virtuous people rule on behalf of other members of society. There is a mixed form of government that includes the House of Commons, which represents the people, and the House of Lords, composed of those selected on the basis of meritocracy, combining both meritocracy and some degree of public participation. In Bai's view, however, Confucian scholars would insist that "in a large society of strangers (which is the default of most contemporary states), the masses will never be elevated to a level where they can participate more meaningfully in politics or elect their own representatives." ”
The hybrid system of government that incorporates elements of democracy and meritocracy is certainly not an original creation of Confucianism. Aristotle supported a mixed form of government in which the highest offices belonged to those who excelled in political judgment and civic virtue. In the early American republics, the president was indirectly elected by the Electoral College and the Senate by the state legislature; that is, both to give the people an opinion while placing the highest political office in the hands of people like George Washington and Thomas Jefferson.
Allowing government to have an elite element in its management does not necessarily conflict with the ideals of civic republicanism. But for Bai Tongdong, this would potentially limit the republican plan to cultivate all civic moral virtues and civic virtues. If the contemporary state is not a community of "stranger societies," then the family is simply not a good analogy for the moral bonds and loyalties that a political community should cultivate among its members. Bai Concludes that republican schemes are morally too ambitious for a pluralistic society. He surprisingly turned to Rawls's conception of "political liberalism," which avoided the moral ideal of public deliberation on completeness and sought a framework of rights that overlapped among values. For several reasons I have given elsewhere, this idea is for me an idea of moral education and a notion of a political community that is too much constrained. As to what extent my views can be supported by Confucianism, I cannot judge. But it is certainly very different from the more radical concept of community that Li Chenyang has given.
02
The Confucian concept of "man"
How should we see our role in life? How much weight do they carry to us? This raises deep questions about what it means to be a human being. These questions are at the heart of two papers written by Alezer and Ross. The two of them were among the most prominent North American confucian researchers, collaborating in the translation of the Analects, in addition to their own many works; they exemplified well how Western philosophers understood Confucianism in its own terms, rather than in conforming to the categories of Western philosophy.
Both Annellig and Rossmann harshly criticized the well-known conception of the "self as a free, rational, autonomous individual" in Western philosophy. They argue that this concept is philosophically deficient and leads to what Rothven calls "in the capitalist market economy ... Ideological harm that continues to function". They find another conception of man in the Confucian tradition and believe that this concept is more morally attractive and more real to our actual lives. In their view, this idea can be used as "a sufficient idea to replace fundamental individualism" (Alejandro).
How to describe the characteristics of this Confucian alternative to the individualistic ethics of Western philosophy is a controversial topic within Confucianism. Many people describe Confucian ethics as an ethic of virtue, similar to Aristotle's ethics of virtue, according to which the good life develops a specific attitude, virtue, and good character. On the contrary, Ann and Ross described Confucian ethics as a role ethic according to which we become noble not by practicing a set of independently recognized virtues, but by living according to the various roles and relationships that define us, beginning with the family. "People are human by cultivating thick, internal relationships that constitute our initial conditions and determine the narrative trajectory of our lives in the family, in the community, and in the universe—from where we come from and where we go," Sayre explains. According to Anlezhe, the resolution of these debates between interpretations of Confucian ethics depends on examining the ideas of the people on whom these interpretations depend.
Here, they find a connection point between my thought and the Confucian tradition. I have also been criticizing the freely chosen, independent, first-and-for-all self of purpose and attachment. I argue that this idea of the individual, the "unconstrained self," has persisted and led astray from Kant to Rawls's liberal moral and political philosophy. This notion of self underpins the notion that a just society must be a neutral framework of rights in which individuals are able to choose their own various ends. If the ego precedes the end, then the right must take precedence over the good. If we are freely chosen, independent selves, then respecting our freedom requires a framework of rights that is neutral to various ends, not a political community that endorses a particular conception of a good life or tries to cultivate the virtues of citizens.
Justice: How to Be Good? Michael Sandel, edition: CITIC Press, 2012-11.
Annol and Rossmann accepted my critique of the unbridled self and agreed with me that it is impossible for us not to invoke ideas about the good life to define justice and rights. However, they don't think my criticism is deep enough. Rhorven writes: "Anleje and I want to go further than Sandel, questioning not only the 'unburdened' schema of the self, but also the existence of any 'self' itself. In order to replace the self, we should adopt a "fully interrelated, role-bearing individual" approach. He cites Anlezhe's summary of this position: "In reading Confucius, there is no reference to some kind of core human being as a vehicle for who we really are, and once the specific aspects of family and community relations are stripped away, this human being remains." ...... The goal of life, then, is to achieve harmony and enjoyment for oneself and others by acting in the best possible way in the roles and relationships that make us unique. ”
Rosvin goes on to say that once all of our roles are concretely defined and their interrelationships are clearly revealed, there is nothing left to call the "self." He does not deny the implication that such a personality picture does not speak of continuity or unity of an individual's identity throughout the course of his life. "As the sum of all the roles I 'lived out', what had to be followed was that as I grew, my roles would change, so I became a completely different person." This view, he admits, "runs counter to the nature of the essential self." As far as the essential self is concerned, we have long been assimilated by cultural traditions, thinking and feeling that we really are something or 'owning' something that remains constant in the vicissitudes of our lives. In the Confucian interpretation, the search for that essential self must be like chasing a mirror, because we are made up of the roles we live among others."
I cannot judge whether the role ethics offers a more tangible interpretation of the Confucian classics than the ethics of virtue. But Not only are at ease and Rorsven providing a textual interpretation, they are also arguing that the view of the role is the best way to understand ethics and personality. Are they right? To what extent is it reasonable to argue that man is in various roles and constituted entirely by his own roles and relationships? As Ann Lezhe and Luo Siwen said, I have a lot in common with the Confucian way of thinking, but I am different from them. Like them, I object that morality arises from autonomous, individual self-selection. But I don't think we can "think morally without considering the moral subject."
Let me try to explain why: I don't think that the continuity of identity in the course of our lives comes from an "essential" self; this self is at the core of our existence, whose contours remain unchanged and unaffected by changes in life. But at the same time, I don't think that man is just a "collection" of his various roles and situations. What is missing from that completely collective picture, in my opinion, is the role of narrative and reflective (including critical reflection). Not only social roles and relationships, but also the interpretation of these roles and relationships, constitute personality. But narration and interpretation require presupposing the narrator and interpreter, the storyteller who is trying to understand his own situation, to evaluate and evaluate the various goals and bonds that are demanded of them. This explanatory behavior, this understanding, constitutes the moral subject.
In de Amberg's essay, he attempts to reconcile the conception of the atelier-Rothven man and the conception of the my man; he discusses an analogy made by Rothmann in His book Against Individualism. Those who believe in an essential, persistent self see man as a nucleated peach. Although the peel and pulp will change, the peach core is always there. In response to this notion of personal identity, we can ask, "Who is the (real) person who assumes various social roles?" Those who think that social roles and relationships constitute their identity, however, see personality as an onion: when we strip away the various roles—son or daughter, husband or wife, parents, grandparents, friends, teachers, neighbors, etc.—there is nothing left. Rossven uses this onion analogy to explain the anti-essentialist, role-bearer notion.
Michael J. Sandel is an American philosopher, professor of political philosophy at Harvard University, and a representative of communitarianism. Insisting on criticizing the liberal view of the individual and reflecting on public life and civic issues, he was selected as one of the "Global Outstanding Thinkers" by Foreign Policy. Committed to the concept of general education, his open class "Justice" is one of the most attended courses in Harvard's history. His representative works include "Justice" and "What Money Can't Buy". (Image source: Harvard University official website)
I am uneasy about the choice of both fruits and vegetables. I do not accept the essentialist implications of peach kernels; if our identities are partly made up of our goals and bonds, it would be a mistake to think that they do not change with the changing conditions of life. However, I also do not accept the analogy of the onion. Or at least I want to know a little bit more, like who's peeling it off layer by layer? Why peel it? This is important because our identity is made up of our self-interpretation. Changes in our various roles and relationships don't just happen to us, they also reflect and influence the changes in the narratives through which we understand our lives.
More than 30 years ago, before I came into contact with Chinese philosophy, I tried to articulate this narrative conception of self. At the time, I was opposed to the unconstrained self advocated by Kantian and Rawlsian liberalism. Today, when I look to the East, I see that my theories resonate with the Confucian tradition in some ways, even if they differ in others:
To imagine a person without such constitutive bonds is not to imagine a rational subject who is absolutely free, but to imagine a person who has no character or moral thickness at all. Because of character, I know that I live in a history that I neither call nor command; whatever my choices and actions, that history will have consequences. It will bring me closer or farther away from others, making some goals more appropriate while others are not. As a self-interpreting being, I am able to reflect on my history and to keep a distance from it in this sense, but this distance is always uncertain and temporary; the meaning of reflection can never be finally guaranteed outside of history itself. A man of character thus knows that he is involved in various ways, even as he reflects on and feels the moral weight he knows (Sandel 1982:179).
03
Intercultural dialogue
From the responses of these scholars of Chinese philosophy to me, I was given a multifaceted learning opportunity. This required me to consider the views that challenged me from some unfamiliar perspectives, and it also allowed me to see some different perspectives within Chinese philosophy; it also prompted me to think about how best to have a dialogue among different cultures and philosophical traditions.
I can think of two ways to have such a dialogue. The first is to compare various ideological traditions from a universal perspective and identify some of their similarities and differences. This approach depends on scholars who have a grasp of both traditions, on those who give back to their new discoveries. When we think of it this way, comparative philosophy poses a major challenge to the self-enclosed tradition of thought. Scholars who have linked the Confucian and Taoist philosophical traditions to Western thought have provided a much-needed cure for narrow-mindedness, which has greatly influenced Western (especially Anglo-American) philosophical and political theory. They also offer a certain correction to that comical interpretation of Eastern thought, which even appears in some Western philosophical works, such as Hegel's.
This highly generalized approach to comparative philosophy can promote a broader academic horizon, but it may also inadvertently hinder, rather than promote, intercultural learning. To discern the similarities and differences between different ideological traditions, scholars need to be able to portray the characteristics of Chinese and Western thought as a whole. This generalization impulse is in some ways anti-philosophical, stripping away the richness of traditions and replacing them with nuances, inner tensions, and explanatory arguments about each disagreement that are precisely what makes philosophy interesting.
How can cross-cultural philosophy unfold without a comparison of the whole? One possibility is to start with specific nuances and use interpretive arguments or moral dilemmas as a starting point for common reflection, debate, and deliberation. In some intercultural dialogues, I interact with students from China and the West; I do not invite participants to speak on behalf of their respective philosophical traditions, nor do I ask them to consciously recognize the cultural origins of their views. Instead, I ask them to answer simple, specific questions. For example, after a natural disaster, when supply outstrips demand, is it right for shop owners to raise the price of bottled water? What do they think of the young man who sold kidneys for iPhones? If a government official's father breaks the law, should he interfere with the police to prevent his father from being prosecuted?
As the debate unfolds, participants find themselves arguing about different notions of justice, responsibility, and public good; sometimes we can glimpse patterns of response that reflect cultural differences. However, identifying these differences is not the purpose of this behavior, which is to invite participants to critically reflect on some difficult philosophical questions and reason with those who disagree with their views. Often, disagreements within national groups and philosophical traditions are as fierce and interesting as the disagreements between them.
Among philosophers, this equally concrete, dialogue-style approach to mutual learning between different cultures can also unfold. Scholars of Chinese and Western philosophy do not begin with ethical dilemmas that draw students and the public into philosophy; instead, they can study, interpret, and discuss important texts in their respective traditions. This approach will undoubtedly illuminate some comparative issues, but its main purpose is to develop multiple perspectives to illuminate and examine key texts, such as the Analects, Mencius, Zhuangzi, and perhaps some of the writings of Aristotle, Spinoza, and Kant. (This is just some suggestive bibliography, others may recommend different texts.) ）
Screenshot of Sandel's "Justice" open class video.
We can define this text-based dialogue between different philosophical traditions as "collaborative hermeneutics." Of course, some collaborators are more knowledgeable than others for any given text; even scholars who are intimately familiar with the text may benefit greatly when colleagues who have long been immersed in one philosophical tradition bring their own problems and perspectives to another.
My final thought is that any mutual learning scheme between Chinese and Western philosophy should begin with the acceptance of some asymmetry. My friend and former Harvard colleague Mr. Tu Weiming once said that China is a learning civilization, while the West is a teaching civilization. When he says this, he is not praising the West. I think he's saying that societies that think they're giving instructions to the rest of the world end up in a state of hubris. Their doctrine degenerates into preaching. A civilization that is devoted to teaching and preaching will not only incur universal hatred, but will also lose the ability to face, listen to, and learn from the world. I am grateful to the book's interlocutors for generously contributing their thoughts and gifting critical interactions.