Response to Rodney Taylor, "Of Animals and Man: The
Confucian Perspective"
Conference on Religion and Animals
Harvard-Yenching Institute
Cambridge, Mass.
Joseph A. Adler
May 21, 1999
Rodney Taylor has given us a very succinct review of the most
salient points in the Confucian tradition that speak to the issues
surrounding humans' relationship with animals. What we see in the
texts he has selected is a "widening circle of concern" (to use
Andrew Rowan's phrase) from a nearly exclusive interest in the human
ethico-political sphere to a strong sense of being embedded in a
matrix of natural relations with all that exists (not only sentient
beings). The Confucian tradition is therefore a good potential source
of insight into how we may conceptualize our relations with other
animals, although there are, as with all traditions, some ambiguities
that cannot be ignored. To begin, I will briefly summarize the key
moments in the process by which the Confucian worldview expanded
beyond the boundaries of the human, socio-political sphere.
It must first be acknowledged that Confucius, the reluctant founder-figure
who was forever after regarded as the Sage among Sages, left us
very little that is useful in this regard. For him, animals seemed
not even to be on the map; they did not register on his moral compass.
"One cannot herd with birds and beasts. If I am not to be a man
among other men, then what am I to be?" (Analects 18:6,
trans. Arthur Waley). However, his influential follower Mencius
said that kindness or love (ai) should be extended to all
things (Mencius 7A:45). This was based on his principle
that the "inability to bear the suffering of others" (including
animals) is in fact the distinguishing characteristic of the human
species. It was also consistent with the greater awareness of and
appreciation for the natural world that we see in Mencius.
The Neo-Confucians of the Sung dynasty developed Mencius' views
in terms of the metaphysics of li (principle or order)
and ch'i (the psycho-physical substrate of all existing
things), claiming that humans constitute "one body" with all things.
Nevertheless, this was rarely expressed as specific recommendations
for moral action. Wang Yang-ming, in the Ming dynasty, did take
it further in saying that the only true knowledge of our non-dualistic
relationship with the natural world would be the active love of
all things; true knowledge is action. And the Japanese Confucian
scholar Kaibara Ekken, in the Tokugawa period, translated this into
explicit recommendations against mistreatment of animals and plants,
which he construed as "serving Heaven" (from Mencius 7A:1),
thus placing humane treatment of animals in a clearly religious
context.
One of the more interesting points of Taylor's paper is his account
of Okada Takehiko, the eminent contemporary Japanese Confucian scholar,
who readily sees the applicability of the "one body" doctrine to
human relationships with animals and the natural world, but is somewhat
surprised by the question. This illustrates a feature of the Confucian
tradition that we can identify throughout its history: that even
though the environmental-friendly principles are clearly present
in the texts, they have always been far overshadowed by the traditional
focus on the human sphere, even to this day.
Yet, despite this evident and undeniable anthropocentrism, the
task of identifying and selecting for special emphasis those ideas
and values in the Confucian tradition that can make a positive contribution
to environmental ethics and animal rights is not at all difficult.
This is because Confucianism is entirely unencumbered by a dualistic
metaphysics. On the one hand, ch'i, the substrate of all
that exists, comprehends the Western categories of matter, energy,
mind and spirit. On the other hand, the natural order (t'ien-li)
is also a moral order (tao-li): li in general,
or principle/order, is precisely the sum of these two meanings.
Thus in Confucian thought there are fewer philosophical problems
connected with the first principle of the Earth Charter draft, which
acknowledges the inherent value of non-human animals. In
the Biblical traditions, while the natural world is valuable because
it is God's creation, this very position implies that it lacks inherent
value.
The problem that does loom large in the Confucian tradition is
its anthropocentrism, the traditional Confucian view of human beings
as the "highest" form of life. This is analogous, perhaps, to the
Biblical claim that human beings have "dominion" over the rest of
nature. But as we heard from Dan Cohn-Sherbock, "dominion" does
not necessarily imply a lack of responsibility for the welfare of
the natural world. Similarly, the Confucian view of hierarchy involves
mutual obligations on the part of both superior and inferior. The
Confucian ruler, according to Mencius, is a humane ruler, whose
first responsibility is to feed, clothe, and protect his people;
only then can he expect them to have the "leisure space" to develop
their own moral potentials. In fact, the superior person becomes
a superior person by helping others to realize their own
potentials (Analects 6:30). The superior person is an agent
of moral transformation for others and for him/herself. The morally
superior person, or the Sage, is thus the crucial agent by which
the moral potential inherent in the natural world comes to be realized
or actualized. This is the sense in which human beings are unique
among living species and occupy a special place in the natural/moral
order - and it is not inconsistent with a fully humane attitude
towards other animals. In fact, it is interesting to note that the
word "humane," which we commonly use in reference to our treatment
of animals, also happens to be the best translation of the cardinal
Confucian virtue, jen, which is cognate with the homophonous
word for "human being." Both the Mencius and the Doctrine
of the Mean say that "To be human is to be humane." That is,
to develop or cultivate the inherent sensitivity to the suffering
of other living beings is to become fully human and to "serve Heaven."
Now that Confucianism has begun to interact philosophically with
Western and other world traditions, we need to ask: To what extent
would the Confucian resources that have been identified here (and
in Confucianism and Ecology) be recognizable by those within
the tradition? Are we engaged in a kind of cultural imperialism
by using the tradition in a way that (with a few exceptions) did
not arise indigenously?
In my view, the application of Confucian ideas to new problems
in new ways is not a misuse of the tradition. Rather it is a creative
adaptation to a changing cultural environment, and thereby signals
the vitality of the tradition. Just as genetic variability in a
gene pool increases a species chances of adapting successfully to
a changing natural environment, we are seeing in Confucianism the
expression of what we may call "recessive" traits which are only
now becoming recognized for their adaptive value. And the fact that
much of the impetus for this expression has come from Western scholars
and Chinese scholars trained in the West does not compromise the
validity or authenticity of this response. To say otherwise would
be to essentialize the Confucian tradition. It would also ignore
the fact that living traditions remain vital precisely because of
their ability to respond creatively to stimuli from other traditions
by absorbing or responding to new elements, questions, and agendas.
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