Chapter 71
Knowing you don’t know is wholeness.
Thinking you know is a disease.
Only by recognizing that you have an illness
can you move to seek a cure.
Thinking you know is a disease.
Only by recognizing that you have an illness
can you move to seek a cure.
The Master is whole because
she sees her illnesses and treats them,
and thus is able to remain whole.
she sees her illnesses and treats them,
and thus is able to remain whole.
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Wittgenstein once criticized Socrates for claiming to
know nothing and suggested that this is not a proper attitude required of a
philosopher. Judging from this chapter, we may reasonably speculate that Lao
Tzu might have agreed with Socrates if he had known him.
I am not sure if you can proclaim yourself to be wise
when you say you a knower of nothing. However, when one admits candidly that he
does not know very much about something he is not really good at, we can at
least say he is not suffering the “disease” mentioned in this chapter. However,
the thing is there are too many people that pretend to know everything very
well, and Socrates and Lao Tzu might have had them in mind when criticizing the
so called “knowers.”
(Although Socrates might have been the wisest of all in
Athens, he perhaps did not know how not to cause the wrath of Athenian
citizens. It is unwise to fight against the public or admonish them to their
anger. I partially agree with one Korean public servant in education who said
that people in general are like “dogs and pigs”; that is, they are unwise and
short-sighted like animals. Whether or not what he said was true, he did not
foresee that he would get fired because of that expression. Whether the people
in general are smarter than you or not, it is never wise to fight them head on.
A group of people is always stronger than you.)
When my uncle was once too drunk and my grandmother
scolded him, he said angrily that he was not drunk. It was obvious even to the
eyes of a child (I was a primary school kid back then) that he was drunk. But
he continued to shout and denied he was drunk. If he really thought he was not
drunk then, I am sure this was an illness. If you cannot tell whether you are
sober or drunk, you should probably stop drinking alcohol at all. Similarly, gambling
addicts deny their problem as well. Or even drug addicts. They do not think
they are addicted when they suffer a relapse and blame their wives or friends.
They think they can escape whenever they choose to, but they are simply being
delusional. They cannot help themselves and need professional treatments. They
will not overcome their problems on their own.
Another point to note here is that even the sage can have
an “illness.” This illness may not necessarily be a physical one. It may also
refer to some flaws in personality or thinking habits. The sage is never a
perfect human being and because of his recognition of this truth he is able to
approach wholeness. In my own personal view, the Laozian sage is careful not to
make the mistakes that a misguided Confucian sage often commits. Again, in my
own view, the Confucian sage is prone to develop the personality disorder of
looking down on non-sages because of his rigid adherence to rituals and literal
meanings of the Confucian teachings, or the Analects. (Confucius is also in
contrast with Laozi in terms of compassion. He does not seem to have had any
compassion at all for those that were not “gentlemanly” enough.)
Then how can a sage know that he is in error or that something
is wrong about him? Although legends say that Lao Tzu mostly taught his
disciples through silence, I believe that the teacher himself occasionally
needed feedback from his disciples or companions. Without engaging in this form
of “dialectics” – or a dialogue, more precisely – it is difficult for the sage
to get to truly know about himself. If you are closed off from others and think
heavily only in solitude, it is difficult to maintain a healthy viewpoint of yourself
and the world. Remember Friedrich Nietzsche. Even in the eyes of Sigmund Freud,
the founder of psychoanalysis, this one of the most influential philosophers
that ever lived was a brilliant psychologist. Freud was reluctant to further
read the texts of Nietzsche, because the core content of his psychoanalysis was
mostly anticipated by Nietzschean thoughts. Nevertheless, Nietzsche was not
able to prevent himself from falling deeper into isolation and depression. His
later books such as Ecce Homo were
not certainly written when he was in his sane mind.
One Korean writer on Hegel, wrote in his
book that a Hegelian “sage” (he never wrote this term; I invented it) is
different from a Kantian or Stoic sage. Whereas the latter type of sage is
solitary or all alone and maintains “Stoic” indifference to other people’s
affairs, a sage in a Hegelian sense is able to see himself by discovering
himself in the Other. You never exist alone. The Other is a kind of mirror; you
can discover yourself by looking in the mirror. (If I am right, Zizek notes
that Hegel is a Lacanian, and Lacan is a Hegelian; that is, Hegelianism
anticipates Lacanianism.)
The disciples or less taoistic companions of a Laozian
sage may not match his wisdom. Nevertheless, this does not indicate that he has
nothing to learn from them. If the Laozian sage thought otherwise, he would be
committing the error of a self-righteous Confucian sage. The Laozian sage is
unafraid to get “muddied.” He is open to external influence and even wants to
be influenced in one sense, but he is able to return to his “Laozian” composure
and calmness. This is how the Laozian sage maintains a proper view of himself.
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