Yunwoo Song

Mencius’s famous claim that human nature is good does not mean that human beings are born perfectly good. For Mencius, morality can be achieved only when an individual makes a conscious effort to attain it. However, if we accept that achieving morality requires human effort, how natural is the effort? If the effort is not natural, can Mencius really claim that human nature is good? At the very least, Mencius’s analogy of people being naturally good just as water naturally flowing downward (6A2) does not seem to stand. On the other hand, if striving to be good itself is part of human nature, then are we even responsible for our morality? It is not the fault of the water, if the water does not flow downward. Likewise, if a person ends up evil, it may not be her fault. After examining previous scholars’ answers to this dilemma, I show that, in the end, the Mencian theory of human nature cannot be adequately explained just by our natural tendencies and requires us to make a considerable amount of conscious effort.

In general, the justification for the divine punishment in the Christian cosmos hinges on the notion of free will. Despite doctrinal complexities involving sin, grace, and divine sovereignty, individuals are held morally responsible for choosing evil over good. According to an ancient Chinese legend, however, the tyrant King Zhou (11th C. BCE) who lost his throne due to a changed mandate from Heaven was born with extreme evil tendencies. But if his evilness was determined before his birth and all his evil deeds are consequences of his natural tendencies, what might justify his punishment? Through an examination of Confucian responses to this question, this essay argues that Confucians did not ground moral responsibility in volitional freedom but rather in the extremity of one’s moral conduct. Their framework reveals a distinctive form of compatibilism—one in which blame is assigned not on the basis of freedom to choose otherwise but on how radically one’s actions deviate from shared ethical expectations. This suggests that the assumption of free will as a necessary condition for moral responsibility may reflect culturally specific intuitions, rather than a universal moral standard.

There is [that which is controlled by] Heaven, and there is [that which is within the power of] man, and each has its separate lot. Once one has examined the division between Heaven and man, one will know how to act.1Since the discovery of the Guodian 郭 店 manuscripts in 1993, the Qiongda yi shi 窮 達 以 時 has gathered much attention, mainly thanks to this opening line, which practically invalidates the previously widely held belief that the division between Heaven and humanity was Xunzi's original idea.2 Consequently, much effort was spent on analyzing similarities and differences between the Xunzi and the QDYS, focusing on their concepts of Heaven.3 But...

This essay depicts the emergence of the notion of predetermined fate in early China by focusing on the changing meaning of the word ming 命. Many scholars have long interpreted the term ming in the Lunyu 論語 as a kind of inevitable fate, but I show that it is still subject to change depending on the will of an anthropomorphic Heaven. In the Warring States period, however, Heaven became increasingly conceived as following fixed patterns in its behavior, and the growing belief in the validity of these patterns lead to the idea that the course of the future is more or less fixed and predictable. I argue that the idea of predetermined and predictable ming was a result of these changed conceptions of Heaven and the future.