Chinese Thought: From Confucius to Mao Tse-tung: A distinguished scholar traces three thousand years of Chinese philosophy and shows how traditional attitudes have shaped the policies of twentieth-century China by H.G. Creel (1953)
Upon my return to Asia, I looked at my bookshelf and wondered at all the China-related books I’ve hauled over here through the years. There’s 20 or more thick, scholarly volumes, and I know I’ll never be able to read them all. But that’s no excuse never to read any of them, which is why I chose to read Chinese Thought this week.
Covering 3,000 years of philosophy in 13 chapters is a tall order. Thankfully, Chicago Professor of Chinese Literature, H.G. Creel, was up to the challenge back in ’53.
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The book cover asks: “Why did the Chinese turn against the Western democracies?… Why did they become Communists?” Creel begins to answer these questions in his final chapter, but since the Communists had only been in power for 4 years at that time, and Chairman Mao was only beginning to get comfortable in his position of leadership, he actually doesn’t go into much detail about Chinese Communism. Instead, he offers a sweeping overview of all the philosophies from which the Chinese had recently turned in favor of that Communism.
In this longer-than-usual post, I summarize each of these chapters—in part to do some of the heavy lifting for you, and in part to remind myself of philosophies I should already know.
Chapter 1: Chinese Thought in the Modern World
Creel opens his book with an acknowledgement that China is a rising power, and we ignore her to our own destruction. For millennia, they’d been sequestered and thrived in their own way. For centuries, they’d been infiltrated and abused by Western powers. Now, following their break from the dynasties, their revolutions, their wars both within and without, they’ve finally come to the place of cohesion—though sadly around a philosophy that’s hell-bent on world domination. Even at that time, when Chinese Communism was just 4-5 years old, they sought to be a superpower:
If Chinese have often been politically indifferent, they have always had, for as long as the record runs, a fierce and unquenchable national pride exceeded by that of no other people. (12) … For a full century thoughtful Chinese have been preoccupied, with increasing zeal and bitterness, with the problem of restoring China to a place of honor and independence in the world. (13)
It is thus up to us in the West to seek to understand them, both as a nation now and as a people thousands of years old. Creel writes that “True China knew nothing of the West and paid for it, but now the tables have turned, and we might pay for our ignorance of her too!“ (9) To do this, however, we must approach the subject with humility, not viewing their differences as inferiorities:
Scholars who devote their lives to the study of Chinese culture have sometimes written about it with an a distinct air of condescension… [urging] the Chinese to modernize, that is, to give up their traditional ways and adopt ours. In doing this, they have been completely oblivious of the fact that they might be giving offense… China and the West will never be able to meet in harmony until there is a reasonable degree of mutual understanding between them. (14-15)
Chapter 2: Before Confucius
Creel then sets the stage of Chinese history by taking a sweeping look at the centuries before Confucious (pre-551 BC). The Duke of Chou (Chou Dynasty), for example, was considered the founder of Confucian thought, though he predated Confucius by centuries. (18) In this era, rulers were believed to be related to the divine, thus making ancestor worship an important part of life. Not unlike with the Kims of North Korea today, rulers embellished their own histories with mythology to give themselves more power—a practice from which we get the idea of “the decree from heaven.” (20-21)
This idea of the decree from heaven grew, and each new ruler who stole power from the last suggested the previous ruler failed to treat the people well, and thus the decree had changed. (23-24) Each successive ruler gained more and more power, and most took advantage of it selfishly. Due to the common practice of polygamy among the aristocrats, there arose a large faction of society that was highly trained yet without any specific role in life. These lost boys became the mediators between the rulers and plebeians. (28)
Chapter 3: Confucius and the Struggle for Human Happiness
Confucius (b. 551 BC) was one such educated lost boy. Self-taught and familiar with the plight of the common man, he began to understand their needs and frustrations. With this understanding, he began to teach a better way.
His discussions covered a wide array of topics. He was not a pacifist but viewed force as a last resort and one always subordinate to justice. (29-30) He also believed that one’s behavior mattered a great deal: “He asserted that any man might be a gentleman, if good conduct were noble, unselfish, just, and kind… [It] was solely a question of conduct and character.” (31)
He also believed that these concepts of virtue must be taught to others in a way that promote personal and then national change:
Confucius…was not concerned merely to train his charges, but to educate them, in the sense of, as one dictionary definition explains the word, “to develop and cultivate mentally or morally, to expand, strengthen, and discipline.” … Confucius expected his students to play the dynamic role of revolutionizing any government in which they might take part and making it serve the needs of the people. If they were to do so, they would obviously have to be prepared for this strenuous function by having their initiative, their character, and their intelligence developed to the utmost. no mere training and routine techniques would suffice. (31)
Confucious summed up his teaching in a word that would become very important in Chinese philosophy, li, which contains elements of etiquette, courtesy, and moral duty. (34) In the book that captures his teaching, Analects, he also emphasized tao, not as the mystical idea that the Taoists would later claim, but as merely “the way above all other ways that men should follow.” (35) I supposed we could describe it as “righteousness.”
Because Confucious was a contemporary of the prophet Isaiah (and the original Buddha, incidentally), his ideas were not “un-Christian” but were actually remarkably in line with right living. However, Confucius never taught his opinion about the afterlife. Instead, he believed that “the measure of a man’s life is not ‘how long?’ but ‘how good?'” (35)
The ultimate goal of Confucianism is to make men happy, and the ultimate purpose of government is to make men happy. Thus, one of the hallmark principles of Confucianism is reciprocity: “If everyone worked for the happiness of all, we should have a situation more likely to bring about general happiness than any other.” (40)
Chapter 4: Mo Tzǔ and the Quest for Peace and Order
Roughly a generation after Confucious, one Confucian saw many disciples using his teachings to their own selfish advantage. Thus, Mo Zu tweaked Confucianism into his own unique school of thought. (46) Creel writes about the difficulty of this process:
It is easy to train a man to use a machine, but far harder to teach him how to make one. Really to educate him, so that he may invent a still better machine for himself, is superlatively difficult. It is no wonder that most teachers, and most philosophers, choose the easier way. (50)
The key to his new teaching was that Mo Zu emphasized global love over filial love—that is, to choose to live for the good of all rather than just one’s family and friends. The problem with this approach, however, was that it was more about determining to do so with the mind than actually doing so from the heart. (53)
He also had some other quirks. For example, Mo Zu proved to be a utilitarian, hating anything useless (like music and decorations), which means he basically called for an emotionless, aesthetic lifestyle—for the good of all (and called “love”!) (54-55) He was also more superstitious than Confucius, giving his teachings an early air of “karma” based on retribution and rewards from spirits. (56-57)
Chapter 5: Mencius and the Emphasis on Human Nature
About a century after Confucius’ death, another Confucian named Mencius discovered a middle path between Mo Zu’s emotionless love for everyone and Yang Chu’s lack of love for anyone. (63) He wrote a long book, Mencius, and some scholars now view approach philosophy as important as Plato’s. (64-65)
He ultimately believed that “virtue brings success” (71), particularly for rulers. If they ruled well and for the people, then their collective morale would be stronger than their enemy’s weapons. (72) He also believed that all men were born knowing good and evil, and that all men were born inclined towards good. Those who debated him on this were more focused on defining human nature than on determining what is good. (76-77) Rather than acknowledging a dualism of mind and body, Mencius instead saw a dualism of rational self and emotional self.
Mencius says that one should make his desires few, which is after all only common sense. One who aims at too many goals will not only disquiet his mind, but may even fail to achieve any of them. (78)
Creel compares Mencius’ view of why good people go bad to Jesus’ parable of the soils, that virtuous people surround themselves with virtue, and wicked people surround themselves with wickedness. (79-80) As important as the writings of Mencius were, however, Creel points out his main deficiency:
Mencius was usually more interested in winning the argument than in trying to find the truth. Not that he cared nothing for the truth but that he was convinced that he had it already, and needed only to persuade his opponent of that fact. (67)
Chapter 6: The Mystical Skepticism of the Taoists
One modern philosopher wrote that “Taoism is the natural and necessary counterpart to the complacent gregariousness of Confucianism.” (81) How interesting it is to watch the pendulum of these philosophies swing back and forth!
Creel develops first the philosophies of Yang Chu, whose extended quotation about human equality in life and death would be worth recording, if not for lack of space. He concludes that passage, though, by saying: “Then let us make the most of these moments of life that are ours. We have no time to be concerned with what comes after death.” (82-83)
Taoism’s scripture is the Tao Te Ching or the writings of Lao Tzu (Old Master), though Creel points out that there was actually no such person. (84) In a nutshell, he says of the mystical (and incredibly relativistic, 89) Taoist philosophy:
The Christian or Mohammedan mystic seeks communion and union with God. The Taoist seeks to become one with Nature, which he calls the Tao. (87)
The positive injunctions of such a philosophy [as Taoism] are, in general, not to worry, but to take life as it comes, not to become trapped by soaring ambition, and to savor and enjoy as much of one’s life as one can, day by day. (83)
One of their key ideas is wu wei, which literally means “do nothing.” This is not a call for laziness, however, but rather a call for incredible skill or what we might call today “muscle memory.” It’s a call to act on a subconscious level: “Taoism emphasizes this unconscious, intuitive, spontaneous element,” (91) like a sommelier knowing at first glance or smell or taste the vintage and quality of a wine.
What’s the problem with this belief system? Taoism is akin to chaos, open to all kinds of good—or wickedness. The do-nothing attitude can also be interpreted as do-anything, and some rulers did. To some, massacring a whole town was really no different than seeing that town get destroyed by Nature in a storm: we’re all one thing and death is only part of life. It’s really quite amazing that Taoism had for so long been an aspect of Chinese government! (94-97)
Chapter 7: The Authoritarianism of Hsün Tzǔ
Creel takes a slight detour from the well-known aspects of Chinese thought to discuss this 3rd-century BC philosopher who (he claims) was one of the smartest men the world has ever known. The reason he’s not famous in the annals of China, however, is that a detractor in the 12th century sort of erased him from history! Thankfully, some of his thought has been pieced back together over the centuries.
One key aspect to Xun Zu’s philosophy was his disagreement with virtually everyone about human nature: he didn’t believe that men were inherently good. (98-99) He believed that man is by nature evil and can only become good through training—never through his own efforts. (102-104)
The man who erased him did so due to one logical fallacy that couldn’t be reconciled: Who taught the first good person how to be good so that he could train others? Xun Zu half-heartedly concluded that the earliest sages had taught themselves to be good, yet people can’t (or as he argued, won’t) do so now. (104-105)
After reading this chapter, I was amazed at how close to the truth he was! The Bible tells us:
None is righteous, no, not one; no one understands; no one seeks for God. All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one. (Romans 3:10-12 quoting Psalms 14:1-3 and Psalm 53:1-3, ESV)
Chapter 8: The Totalitarianism of the Legalists
In reaction to Confucianism, which taught that government existed for the good of the people, the Legalists took the exact opposite tack. To put it in kinder terms: they didn’t feel that a government which failed to satisfy its people was inherently evil. (114) They sought to control the populace with strict laws and thus keep people peaceful if not happy. (115-116)
Shang Yang was the most famous leader to popularize this philosophy, as he brought this authoritarianism to Ch’in State, excessively punishing alike those who argued against or praised the region’s new laws. (120-21) They enacted these harsh penalties, because law and penalties weren’t just for the individual but for the entire nation—one harsh punishment might result in injuries to one person, yet it could deter many more from following his example. (128-129) Han Fei Tzǔ wrote the best piece of writing describing the Legalist philosophy. (122)
There’s a sense in this philosophy that all humans (like animals) behave purely from self-interest, though human application of this vice varies. In some, the Legalists argued, there arises a classic sort of selfishness that ends in the mistreatment of others. In others, however, there is a desire to be liked or to go to Heaven or not to hurt the conscience, and so from selfishness they live a good, kind life. (126) Thus in their twisted minds, even the well-behaved citizens were a danger that required strict control.
Legalists emphasized three main things: shi (power and position) shu (methods) and fa (law). (126) In response to this growing trend, the Confucians of the day argued that the Legalists did not trust education to change evil into good.
Ch’in’s first emperor unified the nation, standardized everything, and ruling with an iron fist as a Legalist. Revolts occurred throughout the land, however, and outlaws moved to the mountains. Here, one farmer-turned-outlaw would soon found the Han Dynasty in 207 BC. (130-132)
Chapter 9: The Eclectics of Han
Legalist Totalitarianism only lasted a few generations before its proponents were booted in favor of common-sense Confucianism, which in some form or another has remained a Chinese hallmark ever since. (132-133) The peasant-turned-strategist/leader, Han Kao Zu, took the helm first, convincing the people that he was one of them, though truly he employed a sort of reverse psychology to maintain his hold on power. (133-135)
Emperor Wen who followed became one of the most truly benevolent rulers in history. (136-137) Then Emperor Wu came along, claiming to be Confucian, but was actually a Legalist in sheep’s clothing. (138-142)
Following Wu’s terrible reign, there was a natural desire to return to the Classics. Confucian books were recopied, now stuck alongside contemporary Han commentaries that changed the original meaning to fit the situation of the day. During this time, many new philosophies were created that we would consider classic Ancient Chinese beliefs: yin/yang, the Five Elements, and other mystical ideas. This became the New Confucianism with all its varied supernaturalism. (143-147)
These philosophies also became the new religion. The ruler was now said to rule the people under the authority of heaven—thus the new title, Son of Heaven. (147-148) This caused hardship throughout the now-united Kingdom with few who could speak out against it. One casualty was that the people’s creativity died, for a few hundred years at least.
Between AD 27-97, Wang Ch’ung spoke out against the classics and supernaturalism and argued that fresh ideas were just as good as old ideas, because times change. He taught that it was healthy to argue with one’s teacher and demand proofs of what he taught. His books were not popularized, however, or even known until several centuries after his death, so despite the value of his ideas, he had little impact on Chinese thought in his own day. (151-152)
Chapter 10: Buddhism and Neo-Confucianism
At the beginning of the Christian era, Buddhism arrived in China from India and changed everything for the next 1000 years. Prior to this, Chinese thought was uniquely that. But now, no longer. (152-153)
Indian Hinduism believes in reincarnation, the goal of which is escape from eternal rebirths and suffering into eternal bliss (which Buddhism calls Nirvana) through good deeds or karma. It teaches that one can experience the supreme being through mediation, while all else in life is meaningless and pain. (153-155)
The original Buddha was a Hindu in India who lived from 560-480 BC, thus a contemporary of both Confucius and Isaiah. He sought release through meditation and after much struggle finally reached Nirvana while under the Tree of Enlightenment—and all while still alive! He shared his experience and taught that the pathway towards the big prize of ceasing to exist is to rid oneself of desire through contemplation, chastity, and good deeds. (155-156)
Hinayana Buddhism (lesser vehicle) was probably the first to arrive in China. A Confucian named Mou Tzu defended it this way: “The Confucian classics are the flowers, but Buddhism is the fruit.” (157) This school of Buddhism focused on personal enlightenment and was viewed as selfish by Mahayana Buddhists (greater vehicle) who followed the bodhissatva, that is, someone who attained enlightenment in this life but gave it up in order to stay on earth and help others find it too. The ultimate self-sacrifice. (158) Well, an ultimate self-sacrifice.
Buddhism was present and spreading among the common people in China during that first century AD, but it’s not mentioned in literature until about AD 400, by which time 90% of the commoners claimed Buddhism as their religion. One massive appeal to the commoners was that in Buddhism, salvation was for everyone, not just the scholars. (161) Then came Emperor Wu who founded the Liang Dynasty and who himself converted to Buddhism from Confucianism in about AD 503. (159)
The Chinese celebrated most the Goddess Kuan Yin, a male bodhissatva from India that transported to China and became a female. Creel admits:
I confess that some of the small representations of this goddess, exquisitely rendered in wood, ivory, or porcelain, are so beautiful and appealing as almost to convert me to Buddhism. (161)
Buddhism experienced slight adjustments among the Chinese. For example, Chinese Buddhism included levels of hell and ways for the living to help their dead loved ones move quickly through them—an addition that plays on China’s long habit of worshipping the dead. (162) Zen Buddhism also arrived in roughly AD 400, emphasizing meditation and the fact that all sentient life is actually Buddha, and that each man’s striving is his only hope for salvation—beliefs that are very similar to Taoism. (163-164)
During the Sung Dynasty (960-1279), Neo-Confucianism sprang up in response to the growth of Buddhism, using The Four Books as their guide. (166-167) Two highly influential leaders sprang up as well.
First was Chu Xi, perhaps the most influential Chinese philosopher of the last millennium. He taught that everything is made up of principles (li) and substance (qi). Whereas Li is unchanging, one’s qi can be good or bad. Improvement and enlightenment, then, comes from one’s improving his qi which happens through investigation and learning. (168-169) A popular writing from his era stated:
Those who anciently wished to exemplify illustrious virtue to the whole world, first ordered well their own states. Wishing to order well their states, they first regulated their families. Wishing to regulate their families, they first cultivated their own characters. Wishing to cultivate their characters, they first rectified their hearts. Wishing to rectify their hearts, they first made their thoughts sincere. Wishing to make their thoughts sincere, they first extended their knowledge to the utmost. This extending of their knowledge to the utmost lay in the investigation of things. (from Great Learning, a favorite passage of Neo-Confucianism, 169-170)
The other influential leader was Lu Xiang Sang. He focused more on meditation (thought as opposed to study). (171) On this topic, I loved this quote from Confucius:
Study without thought is a waste of time. But thought without study is dangerous. (171)
Another important figure from this time was Wang Yang Ming, a 16th century Ming philosopher and Neo-Confucian. He realized that a person can’t investigate everything, so he really only need investigate himself. (174-175) The hope was this self-knowledge would translate into good action:
No one who really has knowledge fails to put it into practice. To know and yet not to do is in fact not to know… No one can properly be said to understand filial piety and brotherly respect unless he actually practices them. Merely to be able to talk about these virtues, does not constitute understanding them. (175)
Chapter 11: The Reaction against Neo-Confucianism
When Jesuit priests came to China, they had a goal to convert the Chinese to Catholicism, yet they were also deeply interested in learning Chinese philosophy. Their outside viewpoints helped recognize the Buddhist and Tao influence prevalent in Neo-Confucian thought, noting that it wasn’t very Confucian. They also exported Chinese philosophy in their own writings, thus influencing Europe with Chinese thought. (177-178)
Lu Yen Wu in the Qing dynasty noted that Neo-Confucians talked so much about the mind, human nature, and fate—but to no good end. They did nothing with it! Confucius spoke of action and in making the world a better place. These Neo-Cons (to borrow an American phrase) were just selfish Buddhists who changed nothing in society. (179-180)
Yen Yuan also noted that the Neo-Con sages were all about thought and study but never action. Essentially useless. (182-183)
He said that Confucian scholars of his own day ought to work at some practical calling like farming or medicine or divination, at the same time they pursued their studies. (183)
Tai Chen, the greatest philosopher of the Qing dynasty, taught what was essentially an early Darwinism, that everything is qi, substance, without souls. Humans were nothing more than animals who do good to preserve life. He adored the sciences as much as the classics, and he abhorred the abuse of li (as authority from heaven), because he knew that authoritarians and thugs used it to justify their own abuses of power. (184-187)
Like Mencius and the modern psychiatrists, Tai Chen believed that men’s desires should not be repressed, but socialized. (188)
His school of thought also emphasized textual criticism, though he himself was special in this regard, because he knew that criticism wasn’t an end in itself. One had to actually do something with the things he was learning from the classics. (189)
Chapter 12: The Influence of the West
As history progressed, China was forced to adapt to a changing world. As of Creel’s writing, he could say that China changed more in the previous 100 years than in the 2000 years prior. Mainly they realized that their supposed superiority was neither appreciated nor believed by the West. (190-191)
One major difference between China and the West was her disconnect between people and government. (193) While this sounds like Creel paints Western nations as more nationalistic than China, he actually emphasizes Western individualism over nationalism, for in the West, people and government work together for the individual’s own good, a self-focus which helps the whole country run more efficiently. In China, on the other hand, family relationships and other connections were more important than anything in the government, and thus the community was more important than the nation. He illustrates it as Western cogs vs. Chinese relationships, which made the West far stronger and more efficient than the Chinese. (194) He references Western missionaries (who brought science and democracy) as key to helping make westernization at least moderately acceptable in China—despite the obvious hiccup of the Boxer Rebellion. (194)
Hu Shi was a key influential rebel against China’s past in the early 20th century, pushing for all writing to be done in the common spoken language not the stilted language of scholars. This began a Chinese Renaissance, but one that actually made the classics so tough to read that they were all but ignored. The abolition of the Confucian exams in 1905 made that ignorance all the more common. (195)
Creel includes a lengthy but poignant passage about how democracy in China was a virtual impossibility, considering the times events which they endured. Democracy as a system needs time to grow, and with all that occurred between the last dynasty and the end of WWII, China simply never had it. (197)
Of the rise of Communism (still brand new to him in 1953), he says it came more from the peasants who wanted their fair share than from the expected middle class. The leadership that took over, however, came from neither group, but rather evidence high-born, well-educated, wealthy men who saw an opportunity for power and took it. (198)
He closes this chapter with a great deal of speculation about how Chinese Communism will behave and whether the traditions of Chinese thought will remain useful or not. (200-207) But he also returns to what he discussed in the beginning of the book, a danger we Westerners face:
For many years the peoples of the West, and especially of the United States, have been sending to China missionaries, doctors, and teachers, and money for schools, hospitals, famine relief, and general assistance to the government and the people [of China]. They have done these things in a spirit of the purest altruism, accompanied by a complacent assurance of their own superiority that could only be infuriating to any normal human being on the receiving end.
All this might have been bearable, if there had been any adequate appreciation of the fact that China had, in her culture, something from which the West might learn, and by which it might profit, as a quid pro quo. But there was little of this. Even some of the most pro-Chinese Westerners constantly told the Chinese, like adults speaking to children, that they must modernize, that is, that they must abandon their traditional ways in government, in law, in religion, and in social and economic practices, and copy ours. Then and only then, they were told, could they be received as partners into the family of nations. …
No self-respecting people could have been expected to receive, with gratitude, such a combination of charity and disparagement. The Chinese Communist’ ’hate America’ campaign was a logical result. (199)
Chapter 13: In Retrospect
The West loves expansionism—but it inevitably leads to competition and conflict. What’s missing in the West—and this is as true today as it was in 1953—is a sense of both balance and contentment. Contentment is something that Chinese philosophy has long held sacred, and it’s something we can definitely learn from them. In excess, of course, contentment can lead to laziness and makes a people weak, which is why balance is equally necessary. Nothing should dissuade us from pursuing these great virtues.
Conclusion
This was a highly informative if not completely forgotten book. I’m glad I took the time to work through it and educate myself better on this topic. It doesn’t explain everything I see in Chinese culture, of course, but it certainly sets a foundation for many of the cultural outgrowths I see—ancestor worship, emphasis on family above all else, and even the ceremonialism we see in official events.
If you’re looking for an overview of Chinese Thought, perhaps this summary is enough. If you want to go deeper, Creel offers a whole host of scholarly resources (pre-1953) to start you on your way.
©2025 E.T.
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