The Daoist (Taoist) tradition

Doing Nothing (无为 Wú Wéi)

‘Doing nothing’ seems a rather odd philosophical principle and yet Daoism does indeed promote wu wei - literally ‘not to do’. To give a taste for Daoist philosophy this section explores this idea in some detail.

Like many Daoist tenets there is a paradox embedded in the idea of inaction. It is not intended that nobody does anything, it is more like doing nothing that is not natural to do. A closer translation is probably ‘non intervention’ as ‘wei’ has the meaning of action with a purpose - an act of conscious will with some motive behind it.

Wu wei is an attractive notion. In an ideal world governments would paradoxically govern by inaction. This is because everyone would know what to do - they just get on with it - there is no need for anyone to intervene and manage. A boss does not need to goad people into useful work, it all happens naturally. This approach to government was tried out by the Qi Kingdom c. 190BCE and later by Emperor Wu of the Han dynasty (141-87BCE). Living like this in social harmony is a rather Utopian ➚ concept. Like many Daoist beliefs it is rooted in the natural world. Nature was seen as being able to get along quite nicely without being managed - plants intrinsically knows how to flourish and water how to flow.

The calls to ‘do nothing but what comes naturally’ was contrary to the Confucian attitude of striving to perfection where effort must be expended to do the right thing. However Confucius does promote the idea of the ruler not needing to do anything because a well governed state will respect the sovereign’s wishes without him needing to do or say anything. Here subservience and respect ensures the government runs well. To the Daoist, however, wu wei is an individualist notion - not as a cog in a larger machine. Over the centuries Confucians have sought to change the interpretation of wuwei from meaning ‘doing nothing’ to ‘knowing one's place and obeying without question’.

The famous Dao De Jing (Tao Te Ching WG) has eleven mentions of the term ‘wuwei’. In Chapter 3 there is guidance for governments not to interfere:

“… The sage performs good government by emptying the people's minds but filling their stomachs; weakens their will but strengthens their bones. He keeps them without knowledge or desire. Where there is inaction good order prevails.”*

Harmony, health and contentment must be put above attempts of the government to manipulate the people into pointless efforts and worries.

But the concept of ‘wu wei’ is at the heart of the inwards contemplation and letting nature take its course. The notion of release from the slavery of desire in evident in chapter 37 and this is also central to Buddhism.

“The Dao is perpetual - doing nothing - yet everything is done.… Without desire, standing at rest and still, all things act of themselves. …”*

In chapter 43 a frequently used Daoist analogy describes the ability of water to abrade and penetrate even the hardest rock with no apparent effort.

“The softest of things can dash itself against stone and yet overcome even the hardest. Water can penetrate rock through tiny crevices.
And so it is wise to do nothing, yet few truly understand without words and benefit from doing nothing.”*

Chapter 48 distinguishes knowledge from wisdom - understanding from pure facts.

“Devotion to book learning increases knowledge, devotion to the Dao diminishes action.
Acting less and less leads to inaction but then there is nothing that can not be done.
To rule the world without trouble is to let it rule itself and leave be.”*

The paradox of achieving things by doing nothing is again explored in chapter 64 where acting early when problems are still small, or else gradually starting a major undertaking gives the idea of effortless effort - great things are achieved with barely any action. It is the origin of one of the most quoted Chinese proverbs ‘A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step’.

“其安易持，其未兆易谋。其脆易泮，其微易散。为之于未有，治之于未乱。合抱之木，生於毫末；九层之台，起於累土；千里之行，始於足下。为者败之，执者失之。是以圣人无为故无败；无执故无失。民之从事，常於几成而败之。慎终如始，则无败事，是以圣人欲不欲，不贵难得之货；学不学，复众人之所过，以辅万物之自然，而不敢为”

“In times of calm it is easy to prevent calamity. Brittle things are easily broken and small things lost. Action is needed before disorder takes hold.
A tree that is too broad to clasp began from a tiny seedling; a tower of nine floors began from a small mound of earth; an epic journey begins with a single step.
Acting with intent does harm; clutching something loses control of it.
The sage does not act in this way. It is just as important to properly finish as to begin in order to avoid ruin.
The sage desires what is not desired and does not yearn for great prizes; learns what is obscure and notices what others disregard. In this way the sage nurtures natural development and shuns selfish motives.”*

A few further Daoist quotes give a pithy summary of the advantages of inaction:

“Without moving, you shall know; without looking, you shall see; without doing, you shall achieve.”

This can be thought of as a move towards empathic thinking. Things will get along just fine if we take the time to first fully understand the situation.

“Perfect virtue does nothing, and consequently there is nothing which it does not do.”

Here there is a some metaphysics behind the notion. ‘Virtue’ and ‘good intentions’ are abstract notions that are not in themselves active and yet achieving them as intrinsic qualities allows great things to be achieved.

In Chapter 57 inaction is often allied to non-interference - a plea for free expression without shackles:

“The more prohibitions in the world, the poorer are the people;
The more weapons among the people, the more stupid is the state;
The more luxuries are desired, the more simplicity is lost;
The more laws proclaimed, the more criminals there will be.”*

It continues with a strand presaging the Buddhist rejection of desires:

“If I do nothing, the people are themselves transformed;
If I leave them alone, they will find their own path;
By not using my power, they will enrich themselves;
If I desire nothing, they will return to their essence.”*

Daoists do not believe in a divine essence actively controlling the world or that people are naturally wholly good. Instead it is a call to trust in their better natures rather than rely on imposed orders. It can also be interpreted as discouraging adventure and becoming inwardly content with one's lot.

The time that the Dao de Jing was written is a subject of hot debate. The consensus seems to be that it was put together in the Han dynasty (206BCE - 220CE) from a collection of earlier fragments but long after the semi-legendary ‘author’ Laozi may have lived. It was in the Han dynasty that the Daoist canon was refined and the concept of ‘wuwei’ has somewhat changed over the centuries.

Much later Guo Xiang ➚ (c. 300CE) wrote:

“Non-action does not mean doing nothing and keeping silent.
Let everything be allowed to do what it naturally does, so that its nature is satisfied.”

Here the enlightened man (sage) does indeed intervene but to maintain the natural order when it is threatened. In order to do this inner harmony must first be achieved – to be at one with the spirit of things (the 气 Qì).

All these views on ‘inaction’ and ‘non-intervention’ show the Daoist wish to cultivate a better self rather than waste effort on empty endeavors. The paradox of effortless effort is one that has been pondered upon by Daoist philosophers throughout the ages.

* Our translation of the Dao De Jing is our own. This is in the spirit of Daoism as everyone has to find their own way (道 dào) - no-one's interpretation is any more correct than anyone else's.