Steven Burik

Heidegger’s relation to Asian philosophy should be guided by the notion of Auseinandersetzung. Often translated as con-frontation, this term plays a pivotal role in understanding Heidegger’s engagements with Asian philosophy. Auseinandersetzung (and related terms) can help us realise the changed perspectives on our own thinking that we derive from engagements with culturally and/or historically other types of thinking. Heidegger warns us against facile endeavours of comparing and contrasting, which, as a form of comparative philosophy, he sees as a kind of dialectics unworthy of true thinking. Thinking through the term Auseinandersetzung allows us to reflect more meaningfully on comparative philosophy.

This article explores a key notion of classical Daoism, ziran 自然, through Martin Heidegger's interpretation of the Greek word phusis. I discuss whether a comparison between these terms allows us to understand ziran differently, and whether a “ziranist” reading sheds more light on how Heidegger understands phusis. I argue that Heidegger challenged the dominance of metaphysics as dualist representational thinking, and that his phenomenological challenge to the dominant Western categories of thought allows us a clearer understanding of ziran in Daoism. I argue that both terms have gone through a similar development in history, which unfortunately does not do those terms justice. While phusis and ziran are often understood as indicating things being “in themselves”, purely self-generated and perceived as separate entities, my reading provides a new way to understand phenomenology's core mission of returning to “the things themselves”, consisting in seeing things as fundamentally processual and relational.

This article explores a key notion of classical Daoism, ziran 自然, through Martin Heidegger's interpretation of the Greek word phusis. I discuss whether a comparison between these terms allows us to understand ziran differently, and whether a “ziranist” reading sheds more light on how Heidegger understands phusis. I argue that Heidegger challenged the dominance of metaphysics as dualist representational thinking, and that his phenomenological challenge to the dominant Western categories of thought allows us a clearer understanding of ziran in Daoism. I argue that both terms have gone through a similar development in history, which unfortunately does not do those terms justice. While phusis and ziran are often understood as indicating things being “in themselves”, purely self-generated and perceived as separate entities, my reading provides a new way to understand phenomenology's core mission of returning to “the things themselves”, consisting in seeing things as fundamentally processual and relational.

This article explores a key notion of Classical Daoism, namely wuwei 無為, through the lenses of Martin Heidegger’s Gelassenheit. My aim is to ask the question of whether a Heideggerian reading allows us to understand wuwei as a notion that circumvents the subject-object distinction characteristic of the Western metaphysical tradition. That distinction is, according to Heidegger, representative of the obsession in Western thought to “represent” (Vorstellen; literally to “put in front”) things. In other words, I will argue that Heidegger provides us with a possibility to challenge and escape the dominance of metaphysics as representational thinking, and that Heidegger’s challenge may allow us a clearer understanding of wuwei in Daoism, by asking if the conceptual move made through wuwei is similar of that made with Heidegger’s Gelasssenheit. To do this I will investigate wuwei based on ideas of willing and non-willing, found in both Heidegger and Daoism.

It is common knowledge that Martin Heidegger’s attempts at engaging non-Western philosophy are very much a construct of his own making. This article in no way seeks to disagree with those observations, but argues two things: first, that Heidegger’s “dialogue” with his two main other sources of inspiration, the ancient Greek thinkers and the German poets, is not different in kind or in principle from his engagement with East Asia. One can of course quite easily argue that Heidegger’s main interest was the ancient Greek thinkers, and then the poets, and only lastly Asia. But this hierarchy in preference does not make Heidegger’s approach different in kind or in principle. Second, I argue that there is an important place in comparative philosophy for the type of thinking displayed by Heidegger in this kind of Auseinandersetzung (confrontation) with—and “appropriation” of—Asian (or Greek, or Poetic) thought.

The Dao Companion to Xuanxue (Neo-Daoism), edited by David Chai, is a wideranging volume. Covering both historical backgrounds and philosophical intricacies of the xuanxue 玄學 period in Chinese intellectual history, this volume provides the reader with a well-rounded understanding of one of the most fertile “schools” of Chinese thought, known as the xuanxue or Neo-Daoism. Chai has done an admirable job of bringing together a wide variety of scholars well-versed in one or more aspects of this important period in Chinese philosophy, and the volume even branches out into the historical periods before and after, to provide us with an understanding not only of xuanxue thought, but also of its origins, its place in Chinese intellectual history, and its lasting infuences.

Addressing arguments that comparative philosophy is itself impossible, or that it is indistinguishable from philosophy more generally, this collection challenges myopic understandings of comparative method and encourages a more informed consideration. Bringing together a wide variety of methodological options, it features scholars spread across the globe representing multiple philosophical traditions. From the beginnings of comparative philosophy in the 19th century to present-day proposals for more global philosophy departments, every chapter serves as a viable methodological alternative for any would-be philosophical comparativist. With contributions from leading comparativists that are both distinctive in their method and explicit about its application, this valuable resource challenges and enriches the awareness and sensitivity of the beginning comparativist and seasoned veteran alike.

The book aims at equipping you with 21st Century Skills key life skills that will drive your future employability, promotion and career success. These are required for effective reasoning, writing and decision-making in changing, evolving environments. You give reasons for what you do and think every day. You argue. You often argue about things that matter to you. For example you might argue that you are the best candidate for promotion, about whether your company should invest in China, about the best way to help a friend or about what the right thing to do is in an ethical dilemma. The list is up to you. If you work your way carefully through this book you will become better at reasoning both in terms of understanding and clarifying other peoples’ arguments and also at producing increasingly sophisticated and compelling arguments of your own. You will learn how to recognize common but often seductive mistakes in reasoning and so be empowered to avoid making these mistakes yourself. Your writing and oral presentations will improve and you will hone your ability to define crucial terms in argument, debate and discussion. As this book is specifically written with everyday language considerations in mind, it is a valuable tool for anyone to understand, evaluate and construct arguments in ordinary language.

This paper shows how both Jacques Derrida and Zhuangzi use their respective ways of subverting philosophical systems, by and large through language systems, to arrive at an subversion of political power or political systems or institutions. Political institutions are presented as including more general institutions such as the media, press, and academic and other kinds of institutions that influence the way our societies function, the way we live, work, and think. The paper first highlights the similarities and differences in the application of subversive techniques in Derrida and Zhuangzi as they battle against their respective opponents. After that it shows how their subversion of philosophical systems and language flows over into the subversion of political systems. The hope or goal of subversion or critique is often understood to be not only overthrowing the old system, but replacing it with a better one, even when the change or overthrow comes from within the system itself. But this paper aims to show that both Derrida and Zhuangzi, although in very different contexts, also seem to subvert that hope, and that they may or may not offer some kind of way out of this conundrum.

In his works Chora [Derrida, Jacques. 1993. Khôra. Paris: Galilée] and “Comment ne pas parler? Denegations” Derrida used the metaphor chora from Plato’s Timaeus (49a and following) to continue his struggle with the metaphysics of presence. In 1926 Nishida, the founder of the Japanese Kyōto School, used the same metaphor to create a new foundation of philosophy. Nishitani, a disciple of Nishida, developed the work of Nishida in close connection to Zen Buddhist experiences. Derrida tries to show the limits of language within the game of language, whereas Nishitani starts from an experience beyond language, but tries to make it clear in the game of language. Derrida tries to destroy the limits of Western thinking within the dimension of language, whereas Nishitani tries to open up the Zen Buddhist tradition for philosophy. Both try to open up a new dimension of thinking which is not bound to substantialized truth.

Beware of the abysses and the gorges, but also of the bridges and the barriers.It is fair to say that many philosophical interpretations of the Daoist classics have proceeded, or continue to proceed, to read into these works the quest for a transcendental, foundational principle, a permanent moment of rest beyond the turmoil of ever-changing things. According to this interpretation the Daoist sages are those who have for all time found this metaphysical ground of all things—"The Way" (dao 道)—and who have tried (in vain, though, since language cannot convey this ultimate ground) to find ways of expressing this transcendental ground to their audience.To quote one instance of how easily such metaphysical..

The brief response by Rui Zhu provides an interesting take on the perennial problem of what comparative philosophy is or should be. While Zhu makes some interesting observations about and suggestions for comparative philosophy, he chooses contributions to the thinking about the possibilities and methodologies of comparative philosophy that are rather old, though, and my first wonder is: why these two papers, and not more recent contributions to the development of the methodology of comparative philosophy, as can be found in numerous recently published works? Such more recent publications tend to take a more nuanced approach to the idea of commensurability than the two essays from 1991, given the developments in comparative philosophy in the last twenty-five years. Zhu first discusses Rorty, and claims that Rorty's ideas amount to "a dismissal of comparative philosophy." This is where my first disagreement arises. The fact that Rorty challenges the dominant style of doing philosophy in the West seems not so much to suggest that he wants to rid us of philosophy, but to me at least can be understood as a positive development for comparative philosophy. The term 'philosophy' has been, especially in the last twenty-five years, a hot topic for thinkers who see themselves as comparative, for multiple reasons. First of all, if one defines philosophers as Rorty does, then it is indeed clear that certain thinkers from non-Western traditions would not fit that bill. This is the reason why many thinkers have a problem with the term, as it is reflective and representative of a tradition of thinking that is indeed essentialist and dualist. Thinkers from other traditions may have put less emphasis on essentialism and dualism, and for some this is a reason to exclude those thinkers from the discourse of philosophy. So I think that Rorty does not want "comparison sans philosophy," as Zhu suggests; rather he wants comparative philosophy to not be dominated by the specifically Western understanding of the term, which is a very strict and narrow understanding, and by extension Rorty thinks the specifically Western problems and terminology that have been the concern of Western philosophers throughout the history of Western philosophy, examples being 'truth' and 'rationality', may not be the best candidates when attempting to do comparative philosophy. Many comparative thinkers have argued in the last twenty-five years that such concepts or notions may be absent from other cultures, or may not have had any prominence in the thought of those cultures as they did in Western philosophy. In my view, it is a definite advancement that recent comparative philosophy is trying to step away from essentialism, the concept of 'essence' not even being prominent in other traditions such as the Chinese in the first place. This means that post-modern thinkers who have actively challenged the dominant Western tradition provide a more fruitful platform for comparison, since they display the kind of openness often lacking in the 'stricter' philosophers. Second and following up on this, using the term 'philosophy' is problematic for comparative philosophers since by the very nature of our profession we would then have to widen the scope of philosophy, which would inevitably result in disagreements about the limits and boundaries of what philosophy is in general. Yet this does not necessarily mean we need to let go of the term. There is a different understanding of 'philosopher' that may be a bit more humble than Rorty's "ascetic priest." Culture and philosophy will never be considered the same, so we should not argue that any serious contributor to a culture would automatically count as a philosopher. But instead we could easily argue for some minimum criteria that an author or thinker would need to display to count as a philosopher. One such criterion would be that the thinkers are able at least to distance themselves from their own culture. They are not purely cultural products or participants or even producers of culture, but analyze and criticize aspects of life that others take for granted. Such distancing need not be done...

Where can I find a man who has forgotten words, so I can have a word with him?Why another article on logos and dao 道? Is it not the case that enough scholars have looked into the similarities between the term logos and the notion of dao? Although it may seem so, I will argue that when another perspective is employed, logos and dao might fruitfully be compared on a different level from the one used by most of these comparisons. In this essay I will argue first that in many instances the approach of some of the scholars who have compared logos and dao has been one-sided and has mostly consisted in a comparison of these two key notions that has sought to portray both notions as denoting some kind of metaphysical...

Traditionally, metaphysical notions of self and other presuppose a dualism that underlies much of Western philosophy. This dualism is opposed by accounts of self and other in recent continental philosophy and classical Chinese philosophy, which I compare. I argue that the self is seen in continental and Chinese thought as embedded in relations and language, and not as transcendent or prior in the metaphysical sense to them. I argue for this by focussing on three themes: self and language, self as relational and embedded in the world or contextual environment, and self and the particular other. These three themes show that the complexity and dynamic of the self-other relation is much more realistically conveyed by continental and classical Chinese thought than by the traditional metaphysical account.

Using Heidegger‘s reinterpretation of Heraclitus' polemos and Zhuangzi's ideas of dao, struggle and sorting of differences, I will argue for a reinterpretation of notions of conflict and harmony in the two thinkers. Heidegger's Auseinandersetzung and Zhuangzi's famous 'sorting which evens things out', the seminal second chapter of the book Zhuangzi, suggest that harmony lies not in overcoming differences, but exactly in making difference and diversity central. I start with an exposition of how Heidegger understands logos and polemos in radically different ways from their 'normal' or 'traditional' meanings, and how he attaches great importance to both terms. I then proceed to analyse Zhuangzi‘s understanding of the world in terms of the yin-yang dichotomous forces, and argue how a comparison of both thinkers can show us a new understanding of ideas of difference, conflict and harmony. It will be shown how harmony in Daoism is not to be understood as a dialectical resolution to conflict, but more as a situating within the different forces, and a certain form of responding to conflict and diversity. Heidegger‘s differential thought will be employed to show a similar approach to difference, where in contradistinction to a Hegelian resolution or sublimation of the difference, Heidegger shows how difference is not to be overcome, but to be acknowledged as fundamental to being. Such responses carry a form of great responsibility, since they might be perceived as random and spontaneous. Yet I will argue that they are anything but random, and that both Heidegger and Zhuangzi seek to engage diversity, struggle and conflict in a most objective and disinterested manner. Such an engagement will then be shown to have ethical implications beyond the philosophical worlds of Heidegger and Zhuangzi.

At the end of the book, Gu defines Sinologism as an undeclared but tacitly administered institutionalization of the ways of observing China from the perspective of Western epistemology that refuses, or is reluctant, to view China on its own terms, and of doing scholarship on Chinese materials and producing knowledge on Chinese civilization in terms of Western methodology that tends to disregard the real conditions of China and reduce the complexity of Chinese civilization into simplistic patterns of development modelled on those of the West. While comparative philosophers can sympathize with the idea that in the humanities and to a large extent in the social sciences such bias is indeed prevalent, in my opinion it is hard to argue that scientific standards as such are biased just because they originated in the West.

Traditionally, metaphysical notions of self and other presuppose a dualism that underlies much of Western philosophy. This dualism is opposed by accounts of self and other in recent continental philosophy and classical Chinese philosophy, which I compare. I argue that the self is seen in continental and Chinese thought as embedded in relations and language, and not as transcendent or prior in the metaphysical sense to them. I argue for this by focussing on three themes: self and language, self as relational and embedded in the world or contextual environment, and self and the particular other. These three themes show that the complexity and dynamic of the self-other relation is much more realistically conveyed by continental and classical Chinese thought than by the traditional metaphysical account.

What can comparative philosophy contribute to thinking about values, economics, and justice? Can we apply philosophy in general, and comparative philosophy in particular, to these problems directly? Martin Heidegger, one of the protagonists of this article, has on occasion made it clear that philosophy is literally “useless” and so let me start with one of my favourite Heidegger quotes, to give the reader an indication of what this paper tries to think: “philosophy … cannot be directly applied, or judged by its usefulness in the manner of economic or other professional knowledge. But what is useless can still be a force, perhaps the only real force.”