The Disappearing God Gap?: Religion in the 2008 Presidential Election Book

Men and women go through their lives asking themselves "What is the right thing to do?", and trying to live good lives. And some of the very best answers to those questions of how to live a good life and do the right thing come from a Chinese philosopher who lived 2400 years ago. Many people in the West do not know Mencius and his work, but everyone everywhere should.

Mencius, Meng Ke, 孟子, lived about a century after Confucius, and his work is unquestionably part of the intellectual and philosophical legacy of Confucianism. Mencius' declaration that "Holding on to the middle is closer to being right, but to do this without the proper measure is no different from holding to one extreme" (VII.A. 26, p. 151) sounds very Confucian, and recalls the inscription above the entrance to the temple of Apollo at Delphi: μηδὲν ἄγαν, meden agan, nothing in excess. At the same time, however, Mencius offers something new and different from the work of Confucius. And it is in that difference that Mencius' work - known simply as The Mencius - becomes wonderfully modern.

For all the profundity of Confucius' Analects, there sometimes seems to be something a bit self-interested about it all. Confucius calls upon his disciples to practice benevolence, to be sure; but to what end? Some readers of The Analects may feel that Confucius overemphasizes benevolence as a path toward being a gentleman rather than a "small man," and gentlemanly status as the means by which one can secure an Imperial post equal to one's talents. Is the whole point of benevolence that it helps one get a really good job? Such would be a gross oversimplification of The Analects, in my opinion, but The Mencius does not leave itself open to such charges. Mencius, rather, engages in some fruitful speculations on the source of human benevolence itself.

In Mencius' view, all people come into this world with what he calls "the germ of benevolence," a predisposition to do good on behalf of others for others' sake, with no self-interest involved. Mencius explains this concept in one of the most famous passages from The Mencius:

"Suppose a man were, all of a sudden, to see a young child on the verge of falling into a well. He would certainly be moved to compassion, not because he wanted to get in the good graces of the parents, nor yet because he disliked the cry of the child. From this it can be seen that whoever is devoid of the heart of compassion is not human….The heart of compassion is the germ of benevolence" (II.A.6, p. 38).

That impulse toward compassion, Mencius argues, is natural to us; it is a predisposition. "Human nature is good just as water seeks low ground. There is no man who is not good; there is no water that does not flow downwards" (VI.A.2, pp. 122). Yet if all people come into the world with that predisposition toward empathy for all living things, how is it that people are able to behave cruelly? In Mencius' view, the human tendency toward compassion is something that must be exercised and nurtured, because otherwise it can be lost. If one develops those innate qualities of compassion and ethical awareness, then "When these are fully developed, he can tend the whole realm within the Four Seas; but if he fails to develop them, he will not be able even to serve his parents" (II.A.6, pp. 38-39).

The system of morality that Mencius sets forth is eminently practical and sensible. When one of his disciples suggests that an unjust tax cannot be abolished immediately, Mencius compares that to a man making a "reduction" from stealing his neighbor's chickens daily to stealing them only once a month and adds, "When one realizes that something is morally wrong, one should stop it as soon as possible. Why wait for next year?" (III.B.8, p. 71).

In this time of wars that seem to go on without end, there is something only too modern in Mencius' declaration that there are "no just wars. There are only cases of one war not being quite as bad as another" (VII.B.2, p. 157). And an observer of the contemporary political scene might shake his or her head in rueful agreement with Mencius' observation that "A good and wise man helps others to understand by his own clear understanding. Nowadays, men try to help others understand by their own benighted ignorance" (VII.B.20, p. 161).

A helpful introduction by scholar D.C. Lau of the Chinese University of Hong Kong (who also translated Penguin Books editions of the Tao Te Ching and The Analects) situates The Mencius in its social and historical context. Along with a glossary of personal and place names, Lau also includes four appendices: one on events in the life of Mencius, a second that examines early traditions about the philosopher, a third on the text of The Mencius, a fourth that focuses on Mencius' understanding of ancient history, and a fifth on Mencius' use of analogy in argument. It is like taking a seminar in Chinese history and philosophy, all in the course of a 246-page book.

I read The Mencius while my wife and I were on a trip to Shanghai. Not far from the towering skyscrapers of the Pudong and the neon-lit commercialism of the Nanjing Road shopping district, one can walk quietly in Old Shanghai, amidst the serenity of the 16th-century Yu Garden. It is easy to imagine people of earlier times walking among the rockeries and pavilions of Yu Garden, and then sitting down by a pond to read from The Mencius. Walking in Old Shanghai, experiencing the friendly smiles and the quiet courtesy of the Shanghainese people, even amidst the modern busy-ness of one of the world's largest cities, I could not help thinking that the compassionate and benevolent spirit of Mencius lives on in the land of his birth.