The Analects

Happy Lunar New Year! 新年快乐!

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New Year

This year, the Lunar New Year, the year of the dog, will be celebrated by more than 1.5 billion people on February the 16th. The celebration combines religious and secular rites based on the religious-philosophies of Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism. While preparations begin a week before the celebration begins, the main focus throughout the festivities is spending time with family and friends, enjoying feasts, and gift-giving.

The importance of family and social relationships, especially during the holiday period, is a key theme in Confucianism as three out of the five basic relationships for humans occurs in the family. Cultures throughout the Asian continent, especially in China, encourage individuals to expand the prosperity and vitality of their families since a healthy and harmonious family is believed to build a stable society.

The Confucian value of filiality is not only seen throughout the ancient texts (see the Analects, 2.5 and 2.6 for example), but during New Year celebrations too as rituals and acts are carried out that symbolise paying respects to the elders. These include bowing to parents and grandparents and prioritising serving elders food during large gatherings. Visiting temples is also a common practice as paying respects to one’s ancestors by reciting prayers, lighting incense sticks, and making offerings is thought to be an important part of character development and starting the new year with luck.

Throughout the world, the diaspora from China and other Confucian societies choose to either make the trip back home for the celebrations or celebrate in their host countries. The Confucius institute in Cambodia, for example, holds New Year activities such as watching CCTV’s New Year gala, holding a reunion dinner, giving red envelopes, and setting off firecrackers and fireworks. In Leeds, the Chinese Community School plan to host an orchestra from China to perform traditional Chinese music, song, and dance, while the Art Institute of Chicago is holding an exhibition titled “Mirroring China’s Past: Emperors and their Bronzes” between Feb. 25 and May 13, exhibiting Chinese bronzes of the second and first millennia BC.

However you choose to celebrate, the Confucian Weekly Bulletin wishes you good luck and happiness in the New Year.

Course Announcement for Confucian Philosophy at Bond University: Four Questions on Confucianism 关于儒学的四个问题

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Ice cream

Confucius says he would rather give up food than trustworthy conduct (Analects 12.7).

Among the three great Eastern traditions – Buddhism, Daoism and Confucianism – it is Confucian Philosophy that speaks most about managing everyday activities, often with reference to “authority” and “propriety”. Thus, the answer would seem obvious: everyone knows that ice cream is not good for you: better control your indulgence. But wait: by what measure does one decide what is good or bad in the first place? Confucius’s teaching concentrates on the concrete, the sensuous, and the things that look simple but can generate profound meaning. It is based on an attitude of honesty and authenticity, and through that, it has significant influence on matters large and small in many Asian societies – and the West.

Self-denial is not one of its values, on the contrary: there can be no authentic, sincere conduct without self-discovery. So indeed: have your scoop of ice cream if you enjoy it. But be sure your joy is sincere.

We explore what it means to learn, to live and to love in a joyful way in the new Subject “PHIL 11-106 Confucian Philosophy: A Philosophy for the Self”, offered from this semester at Bond by Dr. Yi Chen, Assistant Professor of Confucian Philosophy at the Faculty of Society and Design.

Ibis

Confucius says: it is difficult to serve parents with sincerity …(Analects: 2.8), and it is not trivial to understand what “sincerity” means. He also claims: “To learn and to constantly practice, is it not delightful?” (Analects: 1.1). Joy is an essential part of true learning, thus trying to apply yourself to a subject that you can’t approach with passion is not fruitful, and not sincere. You would exactly not serve your parents if you would embark on a career just to appear to please them. Sometimes, in order to learn you need to teach.

In “PHIL 11-106 Confucian Philosophy: A Philosophy for the Self”, we discuss how filial piety is a core value of Confucianism; it is however never a one-way street, but a balance, built on good intentions and mutual respect.

Beauty

Confucius says: I have never met anyone who loves virtue as much as he loves appearance. (Analects: 9.18)

You might think Confucianism says: you should not pursue beauty, but be diligent and pursue duty instead. But Confucius’s observation goes deeper than that: careful reading will show you how its ethics are frequently derived from an aesthetic intuition. This is a variation on an old idea about the truth/beauty relationship: beauty is truth. Thus, to be beautiful, one must first be true to oneself. And this sincerity does not conflict with Confucian values, on the contrary: it is the basis from which relationship in society is derived.

In “PHIL 11-106 Confucian Philosophy: A Philosophy for the Self”, we explore how Confucianism’s framework of ethics and aesthetics is constantly referred back to the self, to sincere moral integrity, in order to establish a meaningful map for the adventure of human relationship.

Trust

Confucius says: a person without trust is like a chariot without an axle – he can not achieve anything. (Analects: 2.22). That is an intriguing observation: the value of trust lies less in trusting someone, more in allowing others to trust me. This is the basis for an encounter from which trust can arise. The goal is not profit, but friendship – profit, success, valuable relationships will follow naturally.

In “PHIL 11-106 Confucian Philosophy: A Philosophy for the Self”, we discuss how Confucianism – the philosophy of human relationship – is an accomplished basis for stable, sustainable business ethics, a recipe to design society at every scale.

For more information, please contact ychen@bond.edu.au.

 

Photography: Boris Steipe/Yi Chen (c) 2018.

‘The Confucian Puzzle’ Part Two: Remonstration and Obedience ‘儒家难题’ 第二部分: 规劝和服从

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Father-Son

The ‘son-covering-father’ story in The Analects (13.18) has caused a lot of controversy. When the Duke of Sheh says that ‘Among us here there are those who may be styled upright in their conduct. If their father have stolen a sheep, they will bear witness to the fact’, Confucius replies that ‘Among us, in our part of the country, those who are upright are different from this. The father conceals the misconduct of the son, and the son conceals the misconduct of the father. Uprightness is to be found in this [italics added].” The implication is that not disclosing a crime is morally acceptable if the criminal is a family member, raising the question as to whether filial obligation should override civil obligations or social justice. The passage mirrors a section of Plato’s Euthyphro, which examines whether prosecuting one’s father is a pious thing to do. Sophocles’s Antigone explores a similar theme by showing the struggles of Antigone and the dispute between obeying the laws of the gods, familial loyalty, and social decency.

In the last article on the Confucian Puzzle, valuing family as much as moral integrity and human worth failed to justify why the son should cover for his father’s theft. For example, if Xiao (love for the family) is understood as a convenient setting to develop love towards others (Ren), then the son is morally obliged to report the father since he would be in a position of extending family love towards others and sacrificing the means of family love towards the more important principle of loving others. On the other hand, if Xiao is of equal importance or at least as important as Ren, it is unclear how one should decide which principle to compromise. To assume that turning the father in to authorities would do more harm for the father than the sheep owner is only speculative. Imagine that the stolen sheep was the sheep owner’s only income, the last sheep in his stock, or the only meal left for his family. In such a case, surely covering for the father would do the sheep owner more harm since he would have no means of claiming compensation or recovering his stolen stock. Finally, the claim that Xiao should simply never be compromised also does not answer the puzzle. In a life-threatening situation, there is no moral reason why the son should not report the father as valuing Xiao as tradition does not adequately justify why valuing family love is more important than all other virtues.

Another approach to solving the puzzle is mentioned in Li’s (2012) article. The solution involves understanding different value systems. If family as a whole is more important than each individual and is prioritised in society, then the son should preserve his family’s flourishing by covering his father’s crime. But there are two problems with this conclusion. On the one hand, the meaning of ‘family flourishing’ is unclear. Does family flourishing refer to an increase of wealth, the closeness of the whole family, or the well-being of each family member? Likewise, individual flourishing can also mean wealth, psychological and social well-being, or even the capacity to face adversity (Faulk et al., 2012). To sacrifice individual flourishing for family flourishing is a tricky argument as there are no guidelines as to how one determines that the quality and quantity of the family’s flourishing should outweigh the quantity and quality of the individual’s or the sheep-owner’s flourishing. Such an argument essentially involves the utilitarian approach of satisfying the preferences of the majority over the minority.

When applied at large, ordering society based on familial flourishing could lead to discrimination and prejudice. Suppose that a society made of family units valued harmony within and between families. Reporting abuse in a family would risk disgracing the family, upsetting other family members, and exposing the culprit, resulting in strained family relations. So, it could be argued that keeping quiet about family abuse would be justified as it would avoid risking any damage to familial flourishing. Structuring the economy around familial wealth, where businesses and companies were all run by families, would also create an unfair advantage to in-group members (those in the families) while discriminating against qualified non-familial members. This produces a counter-intuitive moral system and goes against the Confucian ideal where humaneness is developed by setting others up and achieving access for others (The Analects, 6.30). The emphasis on Xiao, while relevant to understanding ideas of learning and devotion during the Zhou era in China, need to be taken in context. As Eno (2015) highlights, “References to filiality concern sons… it seems to tacitly assume that its readers, and the only people who matter in public society, are men. In this sense, it fails to escape the social norms of its time” (p. 6). A fundamentalist position of structuring society around familial flourishing over individual flourishing fails to take Confucian teachings and apply them to the real world.

Huang (2017) provides an alternative understanding to the case. He starts his discussion by explaining Xiao more broadly. When describing filial piety or family love, it is often assumed that to be filial involves being obedient. For instance, Confucius says that “the young should shoulder the hardest chores or that the eldest are served food and wine first at meals” (The Analects, 2.8), and that only by following and observing the father’s conduct three years after his death can the son be called filial (1.11). The act of complying with the father’s authority and dutifully carrying out his conduct shows that filiality is associated with obedience. However, as The School Sayings of Confucius (Kongzi Jiayu) states,

If a father has a remonstrating child, he will not fall into doing things without propriety; and if a scholar has a remonstrating friend, he will not do immoral things. So how can a son who merely obeys the parents be regarded as filial, and a minister who merely obeys the ruler be regarded as loyal? To be filial and loyal is to examine what to follow. (bk 9, p. 57)

Rather than understanding filial piety as blind obedience, the passage emphasises the importance of ‘remonstration’ or arguing in protest. As a result, it is only right to obey one’s parents if they ask about right things. If they ask for obedience for morally corrupt things, such as murder, then the filial child should protest against the parents’ actions. In the Xunzi, this idea is reinforced,

There are three scenarios in which filial children ought not to obey their parents: (1) if their obedience will endanger their parents, while their disobedience will make their parents safe…(2) if obedience will bring disgrace to their parents, while disobedience will bring [sic] honor to their parents…(3) if obedience will lead to the life of a beast, while disobedience will lead to a civilised life (29.2)

The passage concludes by stating that only by understanding when to obey and when not to obey can one practice reverence, respect, loyalty, and act with sincerity. Although obedience is important, since acting correctly and obediently is what creates harmony and respect, obedience without thought and reflection amounts to empty ritual.

The way in which remonstration is carried out is also important. Referencing the Book of Rites, Huang (2012) shows that filial children should not shout or assault their parents. Instead, one ought to “remonstrate with low tone, nice facial expression, and soft voice” (Liji 12.15). The important point is that the manner in which remonstration is carried out needs to be gentle and considerate so as to continue being respectful and righteous. Shouting or assaulting, even with good intention, could make the situation worse by upsetting one’s parents and resulting in disharmony. So, while it is wrong to stop remonstrating, it is also wrong to remonstrate incorrectly, that is, in a way that makes the situation worse and one’s parents even more angry. The extent to which remonstration should be carried out is also highlighted in the Book of Rites. As passage 12.15 points out, one ought to remain filial,

If they [one’s parents] are happy, you ought to resume gentle remonstration; if they are not happy, however, instead of letting your parents cause harm to your neighbors, you ought to use an extreme form of remonstration. If at this extreme form of remonstration your parents get angry and unhappy, hitting you with hard whips, you still ought not to complain about them; instead you ought to remain reverent and filial to them.

Rather than letting one’s parents commit a bad deed, efforts at remonstration should not be given up. Even when physically and mentally exhausted, the child has a duty to remonstrate repeatedly until the parents stop committing their wrongdoings.

When applying the understanding of Xiao as obedience and remonstration to the son-covering-father story, then it is clear that the actions of the child must be conducive to ensuring the parents’ well-being. That is the first concern for the child. The reason why Confucius emphasised non-disclosure or concealing the father’s wrongdoings relates to remonstration. Remonstrating works best if protesting against the parents’ actions is conducted in an intimate setting and carried out in a gentle manner, creating “an atmosphere favourable to such remedies” (Huang, 2012, p. 32). While there is no guarantee that giving parents space will create a favourable situation for correcting their wrongdoings, the son’s non-disclosure becomes a morally correct action as it aims to rectify not only the wrong carried out by the father but also giving the son a chance to confront and rectify the wrong-doer.

It should be noted that Confucius does not say that a filial child obstructs justice when authorities are investigating or that authorities should not investigate the case. Concealing, in this sense, does not refer to active concealment or taking part in the father’s crime. Rather, Confucius emphasises the importance of passive concealment (not reporting the father) as the correct action to remonstrate until the father corrects his actions. The passage in which the ‘son-covering-father’ story takes place does not state what correcting the father’s actions looks like. The idea of justice in Confucianism needs to be further explored.

‘The Confucian Puzzle’: Filial Piety versus Equal Love ‘儒家难题’:孝道与均爱

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Father-Son Painting

Since the early 2000s, a debate in the Chinese philosophy community has centered around the ‘son-covering-father’ story in the Analects. The passage goes like this:

“The Duke of Sheh informed Confucius, saying, ‘Among us here there are those who may be styled upright in their conduct. If their father have stolen a sheep, they will bear witness to the fact’. Confucius said, ‘Among us, in our part of the country, those who are upright are different from this. The father conceals the misconduct of the son, and the son conceals the misconduct of the father. Uprightness is to be found in this [italics added].” (Analects 13.18, Legge, 2014)

The story suggests that concealing a theft is morally acceptable if the thief is a member of your family, which in the Confucian tradition is used to promote the idea of partial love. Unlike Mo-tzu (墨翟) and his theory of universal love, where an equal love for all is the solution to social problems and the evil nature of human beings (Xu, 2007), partial love means that the love one gives to others is unequal. For example, you may fully love your parents, have no love for a stranger, and love your neighbour more than the postperson. However, does love for your parents mean that you should cover for them if they commit a crime? According to Liu (2007), the Confucian writings are well known for commending corrupt actions such as bending the law for the benefit of relatives or appointing people because of their family connections. Professors of philosophy Hall and Ames (1989) also state that “Chinese culture has traditionally been plagued with abuses that arise because of…nepotism [and] personal loyalties from special privilege” (p. 308). In that sense, the virtue of Xiao (filial piety) clashes with the virtue of Ren (benevolence), which promotes impartiality and love in accordance for all. This leads to what Li (2012) calls ‘The Confucian Puzzle’.

To explain why the son was justified in covering the father for his crime, it is important to understand the meaning of Xiao and Ren. Both Confucius and Mencius state that Xiao is the foundation of all other moral virtues. In passage 1.2 of the Analects, for instance, the philosopher Yu says that there “are few who, being filial and fraternal, are fond of offending against their superiors. There have been none, who, not liking to offend against their superiors, have been fond of stirring up confusion” (Legge, 2014). As well as forming the basis for loyalty and obedience, deference to elders and dutiful conduct are also key to forming government: “you are filial, you discharge your fraternal duties. These qualities are displayed in government” (Analects, bk. ii., c. xxi., v. 2). The importance of filial piety and duty is also expressed in Chinese cosmology and social order which legitimises the Chinese patrilineal and patriarchal family system so that family become central to human identity and power relations (Ebrey, 2003).

However, while Xiao forms the building block of morality and personhood, Ren represents the ultimate aim of Confucian thought, which is to express care and concern for other human beings. When Fan Ch’ih asked about benevolence, the Master said “it is to love men” (Analects, 12.22). Embodying Ren means that one not only wishes to establish and enlarge the self, but enlarge and establish others. By becoming benevolent, sincere, and kind, a person becomes a Junzi (君子), that is, an ideal moral actor for all human beings. Because the Junzi works on the root and cultivates filiality and respect for elders (Analects, 1.2), it follows that to be a Junzi starts with the family, before one can develop Ren and care for others.

When explaining the ‘son-covering-father’ story, Confucians must explain why the son’s love towards the father should be put above the sheep owner who, according to Li (2012), has better moral ground to request that the son return the sheep and ask the father to apologise for stealing. The first argument claims that it would be unwise for the son to destroy his relationship with the father by reporting the theft. At the very least, the son can preserve the relationship with the father and then choose to take further action. Adapting Van Norden’s (2008) hypothetical case, consider the following example to support the son for covering for his father:

Suppose that my sibling was part of a cult that was responsible for killing a farmer in the 1980s. This sibling is now a productive member of society, with a good job, and happy family. Finding out about my sibling’s role in the crime, one moral choice would involve reporting the sibling and turning them in. However, for a Confucian, the reaction would be different as it would involve confronting the sibling, discovering why the crime was committed, and asking whether such a thing could happen again. If the sibling has reformed and would never commit such a crime again, it follows that prosecution is not necessary.

The only way this argument works is if the person in question is a family member. For instance, supposing that it was a stranger that stole the sheep or killed the farmer, reacting to the crimes would, in most cases, involve reporting without hesitation. Hence, valuing family relations is of utmost importance to the case as the obligations one has towards family surpasses obligations to all other relationships and institutions. The idea of family as critical to moral integrity and human worth is expressed by the neo-Confucian philosopher Yangming Wang (1996). He states:

“The love between father and son and between brothers is the place where the productivity of the human heart begins, just like the tree’s beginning from a sprout. From there the love of humanity and the care for everything develops, just as the tree’s having branches and leaves.” (p. 27)

Two conclusions emerge from this passage. The first is that as the root of morality, Xiao is a method of cultivating benevolence and compassion towards other human beings. Family life forms a convenient setting to practice Ren through family love. While this does not mean that Ren must grow through family love or one would be unable to practice benevolence in a non-family setting, considering that human nature is innately good (Mengzi, 2A6), family simply provides a contingent place for cultivating Ren “due to natural or social evolution” (Li, 2012, p. 42). So Xiao provides an important setting for practicing morality, but it is not an end to morality itself. According to this understanding, the son can choose not to cover for his father if he has cultivated enough love for others so that he is no longer confined to expressing love in the family setting. Rather than believing that Xiao is the most important moral principle (see Rosemont & Ames, 2008), the reason that the son covers for the father is because his love for others has not been cultivated enough.

The second conclusion from Wang’s passage is developed by liberal Confucian scholars who argue that while Xiao is one of the most important moral principles, it is not more important than any other moral virtues, including Ren, Li, or Yi. As professor of philosophy Tongdong Bai (2008) notes, Xiao can be taken as a “starting point, but not as a supreme end point” (p. 29). In the context of the son-covering-father story, Xiao may be more important than following the principle of justice or caring for the sheep owner because of the nature of the crime and the lack of detail in the story. But, if the father killed the innocent sheep owner, justice and the need to care for the victim’s family would override the principle of Xiao. Ideally, a harmonization of all principles should be achieved where justice, care for others, and filial duty are all valued. This would mean that while the son was justified for covering the father, he should also seek to reimburse the sheep owner and make sure that the theft does not happen again.

For Li (2012), both conclusions fail to justify why the son should cover for his father. In the first case, where Xiao is only a convenient setting for developing love towards others, the son is either capable of reporting his father or has never thought about it. If he is capable and has thought about reporting the father, then he should extend family love towards others and sacrifice the means of family love towards the more important principle of loving others. If the son has not thought about reporting the father, that does not mean that he should not. Thus, based on this understanding, the son is morally obliged to report the father. The problem with this conclusion is that it contradicts Confucius’s recommendation of covering for the father.

According to the second conclusion, where Xiao is of equal importance to all other principles or at least important as Ren, it is unclear how one should decide which principle to compromise in the stolen sheep case. Since Confucius recommends that in this particular context, Xiao should be preserved and love towards others should be compromised, one can speculate that there is something in the story that made Confucius choose Xiao over Ren. For example, perhaps the nature of the crime (theft) is not as bad or life-threatening as murder, and turning the father in for theft could do the father more harm than the sheep owner. But this is only speculative as the sheep could have been the sheep owner’s only income, the last sheep in his stock, and the only meal left for his wife and children. As Li (2012) notes, “it is conceptually unclear with regard to the idea of damage and benefit and with regard to the comparison between the damage to one and the benefit to the other” (p. 45).

In that case, there are no clear answers to the puzzle, at least not by assuming that Xiao should never be compromised. If the situation was truly life-threatening, where the father killed and continues to kill sheep owners in the village, there is no moral reason as to why the son should not report the violent father. Furthermore, assuming that Xiao is the most supreme principle also implies that those without family love or even a family are unable to live as morally as those who do practice Xiao. This is not plausible since there are many people in the world who have moral qualities and do not have or live with their families.

If you would like to submit an answer to the Confucian puzzle, email your answer to cminarov@bond.edu.au. Sent responses will be included in future posts.

Understanding Metaphor in Confucius and Aristotle 隐喻的比较研究

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Qianlong

Image: Norton Museum (2011). Qianlong Meritorious Servitior. Retrieved April 20, 2017 from here.

Native speakers of all languages commonly use metaphor when communicating about the world (Lakcoff & Johnson, 1980). While such metaphorically used words and expressions vary across different languages and times, metaphor “opens up a whole new world of meaning…(allowing) each individual to add colour and detail to the picture it draws” (Bergmann, 2008, p. 219). Metaphors do this by inviting readers to make inferences about how two different things could be alike.

For example, the interpretation of the Shakespearean phrase “Juliet is the sun” is dependent on one’s knowledge and experience of the sun: as an awesome sight, warm, and vital to life. Instead of providing a direct comparison (“Juliet is like the sun”), the metaphor casts on the subject ideas and associations of the sun so that Juliet, like the sun, is understood in the way that Romeo sees her, highlighting what Rina Marie Camus (2017) calls “perspectival thinking of the subject” (p. 4) or ways of seeing things from another’s point of view. While providing new ways of seeing things, metaphors also relate to common phrases and experiences, reinforcing how communities and groups use “socially shared way(s) of thinking” (Stern, 2000, p. 131).

In comparative studies, many authors including Yu Jiyuan (2010) and Edward Slingerland (2011) have examined shared metaphors between Confucian and Aristotelian texts. However, unlike Yu and Slingerland who assume that metaphors are used to create the same images and meanings between texts, supporting the theory that metaphors are valid across time, space, and culture and ultimately derive from common bodily experiences, Camus argues that metaphors are ‘context-sensitive’. That is, they are based on images whose configuration and resonance heavily depend on a larger context of traditions that use that metaphor. Camus focuses on archery as her main example.

Early Chinese thinkers have often used archery as a metaphor when discussing ethics. Scholar and poet Yan Xiong, for instance, stated:

“Cultivate character (xiushen) and let it be your bow. Rectify your thoughts and let them be your arrows. Establish appropriateness (yi) as your target. Settle, aim, and let the arrows fly. You are certain to “hit the mark” (zhong).” (Yangzi Fayan, 3.1)

While the bow is a common aspect of ancient cultures, archery in China has long been related to military skill, moral behaviour, and good political governance. As Sinologist Cecilia Lindqvist states in her book China: Empire of Living Symbols, the character for bow is a common symbol on graves from the late Zhou era, and can also be found on oracle bones and bronzes. Early classics such as the Book of Documents and the Book of Odes also feature references to archery, creating strong associations between the bow and political authority by recurring mention of archery contests.

Given the commonality of archery in early Chinese culture, it is not surprising that bow metaphors are used in the Confucian text The Analects to highlight practices of morality. In the translated version by James Legge, a passage of The Analects states:

“There is nothing that gentlemen compete over (zheng), if at all, it is in archery…when ascending to the shooting platform and upon descending offering drink- such competition is truly of gentlemen.” (3.7)

While making sense on the literal level, the passage can also be read as a comparison of the archers and the gentleman, where both figures interact properly with peers according to correct ritual. For Camus (2017), more substance can be drawn from this passage by noting the audience being addressed in this passage – young men being groomed for office, and the political strife during the Warring States period in which the passage is set.

Considering that archery contestants were expected to bow to their opponents before and after shooting turns, while wine was offered to losers who were obliged to drink (Selby, 2000), the passage would have generated images of friendly relations, kindness towards inferiors, and the importance of accepting one’s fate, inviting rulers and ministers to think about right conduct and the life of subordinates.

In this sense, understanding the meaning of associations by referring to contextual information can help clarify passages of ancient texts for modern interpreters. For The Analects passage 3.7, respectful behaviour of archers was an easy way of summing up Confucius’ perspective on moral governance as it appealed to experiences that were publicly accessible and well-known (Stern, 2000).

Unlike in China, archery was less valued in ancient Greece. While the bow was used in Greek mythology and the epic tales of Crotus the Archer, and Hyacinth the lover of Apollo who became accomplished when he learnt how “to shoot with a bow…and also to play the lyre” (See, 2014, p. 93), archery was never seen in great athletic competitions like the Olympics. As Historian Waldo E. Sweet (1987) notes, “the feeling seemed to be that it was a cowardly weapon, with which a weak man could kill a brave warrior at a distance” (p. 177).

With later developments in Greece’s military history however, archery became a utilized weapon in warfare and territorial patrol. State-sponsored physical education, which trained young men to become well-regarded citizens, also featured archery (Wooyeal & Bell, 2004).

In the Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle appeals to the sport in his discussion on achieving good:

“Surely, then, knowledge of the good must be very important for our lives? And if, like archers, we have a target, are we not more likely to hit the right mark? Is so, we must try at least roughly to comprehend what it is and which science or faculty is concerned with it” (Passage 1.2, line 1094a)

In her discussion, Camus (2017) notes that the metaphor fixes attention on the participants of moral inquiry who are compared to archers posed to strike. The ethicist aims at the Good which symbolises the target, while the means to the target symbolised by the arrow is knowledge. The familiarity with archery practices and events would have resonated with the original audiences and made for a dramatized explanation of the importance of reaching the aim. Success in the inquiry was just as important for ethical individuals and communities as it was for archers’ lives and state security (Camus, 2017).

While common themes arise between the use of archery as a metaphor in Confucius and Aristotle, including moral striving, the preparation of young men as civic subjects, and physical activity as a component of moral life, the relevance of this metaphor is based on different sets of images and inferences.

For Confucius, archers were a prototype for gentlemanly behaviour as rituals and right conduct were ways of fostering necessary traits for leaders. Rather than focusing on the act of shooting, The Analects passages on archery relate to the life and conduct of a gentleman (that is, a morally noble person) in power.

The Aristotelean text, on the other hand, highlights that archery relates to the nature of ethical inquiry and excellence. The virtuous agent is like the skilled archer in that the rightness of his deeds are like the arrows that hit the mark. The emphasis in this sense is on the aim of the bow rather than the rituals and processes around the act of shooting. Further, a later passage in the Nicomachean Ethics (10.7) highlights a more complete understanding of happiness that goes beyond acts that are aimed at some end, showing “the limits of archery as metaphor for excellence and happiness” (Camus, 2017, p. 16).

In that case, despite being used as a common expression across ancient periods, Camus’s article shows that understanding the context of metaphors can reveal more about the meaning and intention of ancient passages than previously thought.