Mengzi’s Moral Psychology, Part 1: The Four Moral Sprouts

Author:  John Ramsey
Categories: Historical Philosophy, Ethics, Chinese Philosophy
Word Count: 988

Editor’s Note: This essay is the first in a two-part series authored by John on the topic of Mengzi’s moral psychology. The second essay is here.

Mengzi (372–289 BCE), or Mencius,[1] an early Confucian whose thinking is represented in the eponymous Mengzi,[2] argues that human nature is good and that all human beings possess four senses—the feelings of compassion, shame, respect, and the ability to approve and disapprove—which he variously calls “hearts” or “sprouts.” Each sprout may be cultivated into its corresponding virtue of ren, li, yi, or zhi.[3]

Here we explore why Mengzi thinks we possess these four hearts and their relation to the cultivated virtues. Next, we explore Mengzi’s theory of ethical cultivation.

1. Mengzi’s Thought Experiments

Mengzi employs thought experiments to demonstrate the existence of these senses except for the ability to approve and disapprove: this ability was widely acknowledged among his contemporaries.

A. Compassion

Anticipating disagreement with his claim that all humans have a sense of compassion,[4] Mengzi asks us to

suppose someone suddenly saw a child about to fall into a well: anyone in such a situation would have a feeling of alarm and compassion—and not because one sought to get in good with the child’s parents, not because one wanted fame among one’s neighbors and friends, and not because one would dislike the sound of the child’s cries. (2A6)

Mencius's Well by Helen De Cruz

Illustration by Helen De Cruz. Used with permission.

Notice that Mengzi stresses that everyone would experience a spontaneous reaction to the situation and not experience the feeling as a result of ulterior motives or moral reasoning.

B. Respect

In advising a disciple debating a Mohist, from a rival school to early Confucianism that critiqued Confucians’ insistence on elaborate rituals and other wasteful uses of material resources, Mengzi invokes the sense of respect by telling a story about a society in which people did not bury their parents, abandoning them in open ditches. Later, when they passed the bodies of their deceased parents and saw “foxes were eating them, bugs were sucking on them. Sweat broke out on the survivors’ foreheads. They turned away and did not look” (3A5). Here their sprouts react to their failure to respect their parents.[5]

C. Shame

And for shame: If food is “given with contempt, even a homeless person will not accept them. If they’re trampled upon, even a beggar won’t take them” (6A10).

2. The Sprouts and Their Virtues

A. Ren : Humaneness (from Compassion)

Translators often render ren as “humaneness” or “benevolence.”[6] A ren person will be benevolent and humane since ren is cultivated from of a sense of compassion or dismay at others’ suffering. Ren, however, involves more than either benevolence or humaneness as it involves doing well by other people. Mengzi tells us that fathers do not formally educate their sons because doing so would undermine the relationship (4A18). Social roles are important for early Confucians insofar as what it means to do well by other people depends on how those people are related to each other. Parents do well by their teenagers very differently than teenagers do well by their parents. A modern parent who has cultivated ren might do well by their teenager by ensuring that they have ample opportunity to express themselves and make their own decisions and mistakes. The teenager might cultivate their ren by respecting their parents, meeting curfew (so not to cause anxiety in their parents), and the like. 40 years later the teenager will be in their 50s and the parent in their 80s. Being ren for either individual involves different behaviors now because the adult child and their parent face different types of suffering.

B. Li : Propriety (from Respect)

Li has two related meanings.

One sense refers to actual rituals, say the various rituals that make up a marriage ceremony or funeral rites, and social norms, such as wearing appropriate clothing or a man’s not touching his sister-in-law’s hands when giving her a gift (4A17).

Another sense of li means performing the ritual or social norm well. Consider the ritual (and norm!) of shaking hands—some people shake hands well, so they have done li (the shaking hands ritual) and they are li (performed the ritual well).

Li is cultivated from a sense of respect. That this sense is innate may seem odd from our contemporary standpoint. But for the Confucians, that li grows out of a sense of reverence or respect made perfect sense because many rituals involved reverence of one’s ancestors or respect to people with more social and political authority.

C. Yi : Rightness (from Shame)

Yi is the cultivated from a sense of shame or, since the feeling is cultivated and not actually felt, the sense that we would feel shame if we failed to act. There are many situations and social circumstances that are not governed by rituals and social norms; in those instances, when one acts well, one is yi.[7] Consider, again, the well thought experiment. There are no li that guide our behavior when we encounter small children teetering on the edge of a well, so we can’t be li in that situation. Though those of us who run and try to save the child would be yi and those of us who don’t will likely feel shame as they watch the child fall.

D. Zhi : Wisdom (from the Ability to Approve and Disapprove)

Wisdom is cultivated from our ability to approve and disapprove. The Mengzi is not entirely clear on what this ability involves because its authors assume readers’ knowledge of shi and fei. Here’s the basic idea: we shi something when we think it’s true or right and fei something when we think it’s false or wrong. Imagine an early Chinese mother and toddler: the toddler sees an ox saunter pastand says, “niu!”, and their mother says, “shi!”. If the toddler had said “ma!”, she would say “fei” because ma names horses. The mother says “shi” or “fei” because she knows which word refers to which animal. Mengzi believes that this sense is innate—we’re born with it—because small children clearly have preferences and shi or fei constantly. As they grow up, they refine this ability.

Wisdom, then, is having the correct view about right and wrong, true and false, and this correct view will be informed by one’s ethical cultivation and possession of the other three virtues.

Glossary and Pronunciation Guide

The following is a rough guide for pronouncing the Chinese terms used in this article. A “!” indicates a falling tone and “?” indicates a rising tone. Visit here for audio clips of individual syllables. In the list below the Chinese term is provided both in pinyin (a form of spelling) and in traditional characters followed by an English translation in square brackets and its pronunciation in parentheses.

ci rang 辭讓 [modesty and courtesy] (“ts-ir? rung!” pronounce “ts” as in cats” and “ir” as in “bird”)

fei 非 [not-this, wrong] (“fey”)

gong jiang 恭敬 [reverence and respect] (“gohng jeeng!” or “go” +”ng” followed by “jee” +”ng”)

li 禮 [rituals, social norms, propriety] (“lee?”)

ma 馬 [horse] (“maa” pronouncing the “aa” first with a falling and then with a rising tone)

Mengzi 孟子 [Confucian thinker and text] (“mung!” followed by “dz”)

niu 牛 [ox] (“new?)

ren 仁 [humaneness] (“wren?”)

shi 是 [this, correct] (“shr!” or “sher!” as in “Sherlock”)

yi 義 [rightness] (a long “e!” sound as in “bee”)

zhi 智 [wisdom] (“jr!”as in the first syllable of “Germany”)

Notes

[1] Mengzi 孟子 is also known by his Latinized name, Mencius, and lived during the Warring States period (475–221 BCE) in early Chinese history.

[2] It is likely that Mengzi did not write this text and that it was composed, in various stages, by his disciples (Brooks and Brooks 2002). There are quite a few excellent translations of Mengzi, particularly Eno (2016), Lau (2003) and Van Norden (2008). I recommend Eno’s translation because it contains an excellent running commentary on the text and is readily accessible online.

[3] These virtues may be loosely translated as “humaneness”, “propriety” (or “ritual propriety”), “rightness,” and “wisdom,” respectively.

[4] It’s unclear what sort of categorical claim Mengzi offers here. For clarification see Van Norden 2007, pages 214–227.

[5] I have chosen to translate the phrases gong jing and ci rang, which the Mengzi uses interchangeably in describing this moral sprout, as “respect”. Gong jing conveys a sense of reverence and respect, while ci rang suggests modesty and courtesy. All of these connotations might be captured by “deference,” but likely that word is less familiar than is “respect,” which nonetheless captures a key feature of the sprout.

Readers familiar with contemporary western ethical theories, particularly Kantianism, should avoid reading “respect” in light of these theories. For one, the innate sprout of respect is prior to its cultivated virtue of li, which involves performing rituals well (see section 2.B). Second, for the Kantian, respect involves an attitude we take in treating each other as rational and autonomous agents, but for the Confucian respect might be seen as an attitude we take in treating others as social agents.

[6] The Chinese character 仁 appears to be a conjunction of the characters for person (人) and two (二). If this etymology is correct, ren suggests a cultivated form of being with other people.

[7] Sometimes Mengzi and his Confucian contemporaries will say that a well-done ritual is also yi.

References

Brooks, E. Bruce and Brooks, A. Taeko. “The Nature and Historical Context of the Mencius” in Mencius: Contexts and Interpretations (Honolulu, HI: University of Hawai’i Press, 2002).

Van Norden, Bryan W. Virtue Ethics and Consequentialism in Early Chinese Philosophy (New York, NY: Cambridge University Press, 2007).

Further Reading

Mencius, trans. D.C. Lau (New York, NY: Penguin Classics, 2003).

Mencius: An Online Teaching Translation, trans Robert Eno, 2016.

Mengzi with Selections from Traditional Commentaries, trans. Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 2008).

Related Essays

Mengzi’s Moral Psychology, Part 2: The Cultivation Analogy by John Ramsey

Ethics and Absolute Poverty: Peter Singer and Effective Altruism by Brandon Boesch

Virtue Ethics by David Merry

The Ethics of Mozi: Social Organization and Impartial Care by Henrique Schneider

About the Author

John Ramsey

Author:  John Ramsey
Categories: Historical Philosophy, Ethics, Chinese Philosophy
Word Count:  959

Editor’s Note: This essay is the second in a two-part series authored by John on the topic of Mengzi’s moral psychology. The first essay is here.

In the first part on Mengzi’s moral psychology, we explored his claim that all people have four moral senses as well as the virtues cultivated from these senses. Here, we explore the central analogy behind Mengzi’s view of ethical cultivation.

Mencius's Well by Helen De Cruz

Philosophers sometimes ask what makes a person’s life worthwhile or what conditions make for a good life. Mengzi’s answer involves cultivating our innate moral senses into fully ripened virtues of ren (humaneness), yi (rightness), li (propriety), and zhi (wisdom).[1] This cultivation neither is individualistic nor can it happen in isolation: it requires a lifetime of meaningful interactions with other people. In short, one’s ethical cultivation is interdependent with other people, one’s social environment, and whether (and how well) one reflects on the stirrings of their sprouts and extends their previous moral behavior to the current situation.

1. The Analogy

Mengzi responds to a question about why some people are good and others bad (despite all people possessing the moral senses) by outlining a theory of ethical cultivation through an analogy with the cultivation of agricultural crops.

Take barley for comparison. If you broadcast the grains and rake the soil over them, and if the soil and planting times are comparable for all, they will all shoot up and ripen by the summer solstice. If there are differences it is because of the differences in the fertility of the soil, or in the nourishment of rain and dew, or in the labor of the farmer…. why would we suspect it to be any different with people? (6A7)[2]

Mengzi calls our attention to the role of soil, rain and dew, and the labor of the farmer. We can further elaborate the analogy by considering the sun, good weather, and the farmer’s tools, all of which Mengzi discusses in nearby passages (6A6–6A9). One might think that the soil in which our sprouts are planted is our bodies. However, Mengzi thinks each of us is “planted” in a social environment, consisting of our families, particular cultures, and other social factors. In 6A8 Mengzi explicitly connects rain and nourishing, morning dew with nightly rest and restorative qi (vital energy).[3]

To explain why a particular king lacks zhi (wisdom), Mengzi says, “It is but seldom that I have an audience of the king, and when I retire, there come all those who act upon him like the cold” (6A9). Here Mengzi identifies himself as the sun, or role model, for the king’s sprouts. Mengzi also considers an example of two students learning the game Go from Master Qiu. Although Master Qiu provides instruction to both, one student daydreams of hunting swans while the other “gives to the subject his whole mind and bends to it all his will, doing nothing but listening to Go Master Qiu” (6A9). Both students are nourished by a role model but only one takes heed of the role model’s instruction and attentively practices what he learns.

But who, like a farmer laboring on their crops, cultivates our sprouts? Mengzi is not explicit about this, but a plausible answer is that each person does. Moreover, each person must use the proper tools of cultivation, which for Mengzi include the various social rituals and norms endorsed by Confucianism, the Confucian literary classics, and most importantly reflection and extension—Mengzi’s version of moral deliberation.

2. Reflection and Extension[4]

In one of the longest passages in the Mengzi (1A7), Mengzi and King Xuan discuss how the later can become a sage king. Earlier, Xuan had seen an ox about to be sacrificed to consecrate a ritual bell and spared it because he could not bear its suffering, which he compares to an innocent person being lead to execution. His people chastised him for being stingy because he sacrificed a sheep instead. Mengzi disagrees with this assessment and praises the king for reflecting and extending. The process of reflection and extension has four steps, which might be generalized from Xuan’s narrative:

(1) hearing the whimpering of the ox: one witnesses a situation in which one of their sprouts are stirred;

(2) remembering his dismay at the suffering of an innocent about to be executed[5]: one remembers or thinks of a similar situation in which the same sprout stirred;

(3) as king, Xuan has the power to stay the execution just as he has the authority to modify the consecration ritual[6]: one reflects on what power they have to act or how they acted in the similar situation;

(4) spare the ox: one acts in this situation similarly to how they acted in the previous situation.[7]

3. Conclusion

The cultivation of our sprouts involves an individual working to cultivate one’s innate moral senses through the use of reflection and extension, the social norms that govern one’s social milieu, and one’s reliance on others. We are dependent on people directly in two ways. First, rituals and social norms structure our relationships and interactions with others. Second, familial relationships are the “root” of reflection and extension (1A7 and 4A19). We are also dependent on others indirectly: others serve as role models and help create and sustain social environments in which particular persons may flourish.

Mengzi’s analogy helps explain why people do and don’t cultivate their moral senses. Some of us are fortunate to grow up in socio-morally rich social environments and families, whereas others grow up in socio-morally deprived situations. Some of us may benefit from good role models; others choose poor role models. Some practice reflection and extension and others fail to listen to and reflect on their moral senses. Nonetheless, since Mengzi believes that all humans possess the moral senses and can reflect and extend—“the sage and I are of the same kind” (6A7)—we all can cultivate our moral senses, though some face more challenges than others.

Glossary and Pronunciation Guide

The following is a rough guide for pronouncing the Chinese terms used in this article. A “!” indicates a falling tone and “?” indicates a rising tone. Visit here for audio clips of individual syllables. In the list below the Chinese term is provided both in pinyin (a form of spelling) and in traditional characters followed by an English translation in square brackets and its pronunciation in parentheses.

fei 非 [not-this, wrong] (“fey”)

li 禮 [rituals, social norms, propriety] (“lee?”)

Mengzi 孟子 [Confucian thinker and text] (“mung!” followed by “dz”)

qi 氣 [vital energy] (“chee!”)

Qiu 秋 [a legendary Go master] (“chew”)

ren 仁 [humaneness] (“wren?”)

shi 是 [this, correct] (“shr!” or “sher!” as in “Sherlock”)

yi 義 [rightness] (a long “e!” sound as in “bee”)

zhi 智 [wisdom] (“jr!”as in the first syllable of “Germany”)

Notes

[1] See Part 1 for a discussion of the four sprouts and their corresponding virtues.

[2] Throughout I follow Eno’s (2016) translation of the text. The text is usually divided into 7 Books with two parts (A and B) and then subsequently arranged by numbered passages. Thus, “2A6” refers to Book 2A, passage 6.

[3] In early Chinese discourse, qi 氣 usually refers to a vapor diffuse in the air and, in particular, human breath. Mengzi uses qi in a more technical sense as a vital energy that affects our emotions and moral senses. In 2A2 he claims that one’s store of qi can move one’s will. Thus, qi can help us act more resolutely when our moral sprouts stir.

[4] Contemporary commentators disagree about how exactly reflection and extension works. For instance, see Ivanhoe 2002 and Wong 2002. The view I offer here is consistent with these interpretations but is simplified for brevity.

[5] The range of situations one can reflect on is not limited to one’s own experiences. Instead, the range of reflection is informed by one’s cultural knowledge and background, including literature and philosophical hypotheticals as well as (for us moderns) situations we encounter in movies and TV series.

[6] The specific power(s) we have in a particular situation is tied to our social roles and relationships. For instance, Mengzi could not spare the ox because he does not have the social standing to do so, but he does have the social power to advise the king to spare the ox. King Xuan continues to follow his social role in consecrating the bell by substituting a sheep, which he hadn’t heard bleating and so didn’t stir his sprout of compassion.

[7] Mengzi sums up the process with an interesting formulation of the golden rule: “Treat your aged kin as the elderly should be treated, and then extend that to the treatment of the aged kinsmen of others; treat your young kin as the young should be treated, and then extend it to the young children of other” (1A7).

References

Ivanhoe, Philip J. “Confucian Self Cultivation and Mengzi’s Notion of Extension” in Essays on the Moral Philosophy of Mengzi (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 2002).

Wong, David. “Reasons and Analogical Reasoning in Mengzi” in Essays on the Moral Philosophy of Mengzi (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 2002).

Further Reading

Mencius, trans. D.C. Lau (New York, NY: Penguin Classics, 2003).

Mencius: An Online Teaching Translation, trans. Robert Eno, 2016.

Mengzi with Selections from Traditional Commentaries, trans. Bryan W. Van Norden (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett Publishing Company, 2008).

Related Essays

Mengzi’s Moral Psychology, Part 1: The Four Moral Sprouts by John Ramsey

Virtue Ethics by David Merry

The Ethics of Mozi: Social Organization and Impartial Care by Henrique Schneider

About the Author

John Ramsey is currently a freelance academic editor and works with multilingual and early career academics. His philosophical interests are in early Chinese philosophy, Buddhist philosophy, and Pragmatism. His academic work has appeared in Philosophy East and WestThe Journal of Chinese Philosophy, and Asian Philosophy. RamseyEditorial.com 

Follow 1000-Word Philosophy on Facebook and Twitter and subscribe to receive email notifications of new essays at 1000WordPhilosophy.com.

10 thoughts on “Mengzi’s Moral Psychology, Part 1: The Four Moral Sprouts

  1. Someone asks, “How would Mengzi explain why at appears that at least some people wouldn’t be moved at all by the drowning child?”

    John responds:

    As for Mengzi’s response, there’s two things he might say. One might be that someone who isn’t moved does experience the feeling of compassion, but is either inattentive or doesn’t recognize the feeling as such because they have “cultivated” the wrong habits, etc. Mengzi considers this possibility via analogy in 6A8, the famous Ox Mountain parable. I’ve copied that below from Eno translation:

    “Mencius said, “There was once a time when the woods of Ox Mountain were lovely. But because they lie close beside the capital of a great state, the ax and adze hack away at them – could they remain lovely long? By dawn and evening they are nourished by the rains and the dew, and surely there is no lack of shoots that spring up. But then cattle and sheep follow and graze, and thus it remains barren. When people observe how it is barren, they assume it could never have been covered with lumber, but how could that possibly be the nature of a mountain?

    “And could what exists within people possibly be without humanity and righteousness? That a man may have let go of his original heart is indeed like the hacking of ax and adze on the mountain’s woods – morning after morning, how can its beauty remain? Despite the rest such a man may get between day and night, and the restorative qi that the morning brings, the things he does day after day destroy these effects, and in time little will he resemble other men in what he likes and hates. When this destruction is repeated, the qi he stores up each night will not be enough to preserve what was originally in him, and when the night qi can no longer preserve that, he is not far from a beast. Others see that he has become a beast and they assume he never possessed a human endowment, but how could that possibly be the nature of a person?

    “There is nothing that does not grow when it receives its proper nourishment, and there is nothing that does not shrivel when it loses that which it was nourished by. Confucius said, ‘Grasp it and you will preserve it; let it go and it will vanish; when it comes and where it goes, no one knows.’ Was it not the heart that he meant?”

    The second possibility, which is suggested in the above passage and also mentioned in conjunction with the sprouts elsewhere, is that the individual is not a person (it’s unclear whether he means capable of being a moral agent or whether he’s denying that they are fully (biologically) human). The general idea is that such a person is missing something that makes them human; they are a “mere animal”. Here’s a representative passage—actually, it’s from 2A6, which includes the Child and Well example, and immediately follows that example:

    “Now by imagining this situation we can see that one who lacked a sense of dismay in such a case could simply not be a person. And I could further show that anyone who lacked the moral sense of shame could not be a person; anyone who lacked a moral sense of deference could not be a person; anyone who lacked a moral sense of right and wrong could not be a person.

    Now the sense of dismay on another’s behalf is the seed of ren planted within us, the sense of shame is the seed of righteousness (yi), the sense of deference is the seed of ritual li, and the sense of right and wrong is the seed of wisdom. Everyone possesses these four moral senses just as they possess their four limbs. For one to possess such moral senses and yet to claim that he cannot call them forth is to rob oneself; and for a person to claim that his ruler is incapable of such moral feelings is to rob his ruler.”

    The ambiguity—whether not a moral agent or not human—is a function of how Mengzi and his contemporaries understand renxing which gets translated as “human nature”. The debate at the time was really about (a) what abilities humans have that distinguish them from other creatures and (b) whether this xing could be transformed/developed into a moral nature. So, we might say, that Mengzi’s contemporaries believe our nature is non-moral and quite a few believe we could become moral agents. Mengzi comes along and argues that (a) includes moral senses/abilities and we’re moral agents by nature (hence the unclarity). He (and his disciples) seems to be the only early Chinese thinker that defended such a view.

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