Taoism

The Flaws of Virtue

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The Flaws of Virtue

“Great Virtue Seems Flawed” is a quote from the Tao Te Ching Chapter 41. Lately I’ve been thinking about that between a mix of readings and watching today’s supposedly virtuous people. The former makes me think, the later makes me outraged THEN I think. I suppose it all goes to the same place – people with deep morals and principles, grounded ones, are NOT going to look perfect to people.

Because looking perfect is a great way to not actually focus on important issues and your own personal integrity.

Think of how much of “morality” we’re taught is just posturing. Say the right thing. Smile at the right time. Invoke some religious platitudes. I mean how many times do you see someone held up as a moral paragon who violates everything their religion and principles supposedly stand for?

In a media age it’s even worse. I’m often stunned – me, who’s had plenty of time to become cynical – how often supposed moralists are clearly not following what they say. They are lying to people’s faces, posing, posturing.

A person who has deep values, who has connected values, doesn’t place performative actions on a pedestal. They’re not here to sell you themselves, they’re not here to grift you. They have certain principles and act on them. Often that will conflict with the performative morality of others.

This also means that people who are interested in what is right and what values run deep is going to clash with the times. By definition someone who is contemplating what’s important is going to be at odds with flaws in society at the time. They will make waves, they will not be what we expect – and a smart society has “space” for wave makers (which lets you find out who has good ideas and who is just a jackass).

Finally, some ideas of what proper, moral behavior is really fall away when people take a look at deep issues and principles. Deep morality will seem flawed as people realize some things they were taught are, at best, useless, and worse harmful. Look at the history of people protesting injustice against people for skin color, sexual preference – at their time, they looked very flawed, but in retrospect we see their virtue (even if some want to deny it).

So yes, great virtue does seem flawed. It comes from a deeper source, from contemplation, from trying to get the big picture. We should always expect some moral friction in the world because we’re always re-evaluating things.

I would note, as a warning, that there is “being flawed” and “being performatively transgressive.” A person who’s deep morals come first and just happen to appear as flawed is one thing. Someone going around breaking things and putting on a show is clearly not coming from a deeper place.

And ironically, the performative faux moralist is probably performing “acceptable rebellion” so they’re conforming anyway . . .

-Xenofact

Not Alone Among The Books

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As I mentioned several times before, I like to read various Taoist documents as it helps me build a mental “ecosystem.” That ecosystem helps me understand my meditative work, develop philosophical understanding, and better connect to the world. However, I noted another benefit as of late – a feeling of understanding.

I read of historical figures whose tales border on or are legend, often presented by Taoist writers as examples or cautionary tales. I find some of them relatable, in virtues, in flaws, and in experiences. Across the centuries, the aeons, I feel kinship, even in my own mistakes.

There are authors who comment on their experiences, plans, and desires. There, reading a book from a thousand years ago, I get them. I understand what they’re trying to do, what they’re experiencing, and even their mistakes. Sometimes you learn a lot by going “I understand why you said that” and “been there.”

Then there’s all the advice and observations these ancient Taoist writers provide. Timeless stuff, the same observations, even the same issues, are things they wrote about and things I learn about now. It’s not just that it’s useful, someone wrote it down to help others, someone going through what I went through.

Then when you look at these books hundreds or thousands of years old, you realize that you have it because of a chain of scribes and printers transcribing it. Someone made sure you had this book, dipping their pen into ink, arranging blocks on the press. You have that book because of people who did that – and if you’re someone like me, that’s someone like us.

Finally, there’s the translators, some of whom leave their own notes and commentary, sometimes even their own experience getting the book done. These are the people that made sure you can read the book – and make sense of metaphors, cultural tropes, and so on. They did this for a reason.

All these books make me feel not just informed, but less alone. There’s people like me, people who I get and relate to. Whatever wisdom I gain from their works and efforts, I also gain a sense of camaraderie.

Maybe this also explains some of the thrill I get sharing books that matter to me. A book may find someone who connects to it like I do, and there’s one more person feeling that connected to all those who came before.

-Xenofact

The Tao Isn’t The Market

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In my Taoist readings, “the Tao” is always a subject of discussion. This is ironic because as the beloved Tao Te Ching notes, when you speak of the Tao you’re not speaking of the real Tao. A great deal of Taoist writing is talking about how ineffable the Tao is then writing a huge amount about it. There’s a reason I compare writers like Chuang-Tzu to people like Dave Barry – you need that mix of humor and sarcasm to handle such irony.

Of course that’s kind of the point. You have a word for the ineffable (Tao) that’s behind all things, and that word represents everything and how you can’t really define it. The Tao is everywhere, it’s why everything is, it’s the smallest and the largest, the near and the far. Taoism takes a word that lets you refer to the great connected isness of absolutely everything that words can’t otherwise encompass.

It’s kind of a linguistic hack.

That, I find, is also the power of good Taoist writing. Using a single word and poetic writing, it reminds you that the universe is great and connected. Leading you around by words and sentences, you start intuitively getting to understanding the power behind everything. In turn, that lets you live in the world, living in harmony with things, knowing it’s all vast and everywhere and connected – Tao.

If you get it you get it. If you don’t, you don’t. If you want to fake it, you probably can for awhile. But a lot of Taoism is words leading you to the wordless, that there’s a force behind everything.

What’s funny is I realized lately that the Tao reminds me of how Capitalists think of the Almighty Market.

What is is. The Market speaks. The great and powerful force that reconciles everything is perfect and everywhere and if you don’t get rich then The Market has decided. The market is unquestionable and good and perfect and the foundation of all things. The market is like the Tao in that it’s ineffable, AND like a personal god in that it makes decisions about things, granting everything a moral quality. The Market cannot be questioned, it’s that awesome! Yet also it makes decisions.

What’s funny is the market being a human construct, being about profit and gain and exploitation, is something Taoists warned about for aeons. As a construct that warps human feelings, it’s to be regarded with suspicion. As something about gain, it risks the traps of greed and acquisitiveness, which corrupt society. As something surrounded by flummery and endless long-winded justifications, it’s as suspicious as pretentious intellectuals and politicians and would-be sages.

The way people treat The Market as some divine force darkly echoes the words of the Taoists with a touch of theology, and realizing that I understand Market Fanatics passion much better. It’s beyond greed, into religion and even a kind of perverse mysticism.

And thanks to the Taoists, who would have laughed at the Market Fanatics and their pretentious, helped me understand that better. And laugh, of course.

I appreciate the irony. Which Chuang-Tzu and Dave Barry would probably both appreciate.

– Xenofact