Chinese ecological pedagogy: humanity, nature, and education in the modern world

‘Tien-rén-hé-yi’ (天人合一) (‘the harmony between humanity and nature’) is a core idea in Chinese traditional culture. We will find several hundred thousand papers on this theme if ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ is used as a keyword. Chinese thought is taken as comprising environmentally friendly doctrines and values, yet the current environmental problems in modern China paradoxically cast doubt on the age-old belief. There is a call for deeper reflection on the meanings of the concepts taken for granted, concepts such as ‘harmony’, ‘humanity’, and ‘nature’. What is the value of nature from the perspective of Chinese thought? What is the moral status of nature and nonhuman beings in Chinese tradition? Is the archaic idea of the harmony between humanity and nature viable in modern societies characterised by digital technologies, capitalist marketisation, and globalisation? For philosophers of education in Chinese heritage societies, it is compelling to examine, criticise, interpret, reinterpret, deconstruct, or reconstruct Chinese philosophy of education with respect to nature and environmental issues in light of the impact of modern technologies. This special issue as a response to the call provides a forum for developing a Chinese educational philosophy envisioning ecological pedagogy—ecopedagogy.

The phrase of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’(天人合一) is the most widely known tagline of Chinese ecological philosophy. Although ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’(天人合一)is usually translated as ‘the harmony between humanity and nature’, there are nuances implied in different uses of the word of ‘tien’ or nature. There are several meanings of ‘tien’. Youlan Feng (1983) identified five meanings of ‘tien’: (1) a material or physical ‘tien’ or sky; (2) a ruling or presiding ‘tien’, which is anthropomorphic god; (3) a fatalistic ‘tien’, which is similar to fate; (4) a naturalistic ‘tien’ that is equivalent to nature; and (5) an ethical ‘tien’, which means the moral principle.

I have a slightly different opinion about the five uses of ‘tien’ as identified by Youlan Feng (1983). First, the word ‘tien’ literally means ‘the heaven’ or ‘the sky’. It is the opposite of the earth. Second, ‘tien’ also denotes ‘the god’ or ‘gods’. In Chinese, ‘tien’ is often associated with the word ‘shén’ (神, god) in two-character terms like ‘tien-shén’ or ‘shàn-tien’ (上天, high above gods).Third, ‘tien’ is used in the term ‘tien-xìa’ (天下, under the heavens) to denote the physical world. Fourth, ‘tien’ is used in the term of ‘tien-dào’ (天道, the way of ‘tien’), or ‘tien-mìng’ (天命, the decree of ‘tien’). Either implies the meanings of the truth or the order of the heaven/nature. The fourth use of the word ‘tien’ shares a common meaning with the fifth use, which is ‘tien’ to indicate ‘nature’ or ‘the natural order’. The word ‘tien’ in the Analects is often used to indicate something that is greater than human beings (Legge, 1861). It does not speak to command or influence upon humankind. Human beings can only know about the ‘tien’ or the will of ‘tien’ by becoming aware of the transformation and motion of every living or nonliving being in the world. ‘Tien’ in this sense is nearly synonymous with ‘nature’. Many passages about ‘tien’ as nature can be found in the Analects. Confucius and his disciples mention ‘tien’ on many occasions. In the Analects, ‘tien’ is often mentioned as referring to the existence or state of an entity or process that is beyond human control.

For example, Legge translated ‘tien’ as ‘the Heaven’: ‘Heaven produced the virtue that is in me. Huan Tui - what can he do to me?’ (Analects, 7:23)¹; ‘Death and life have their determined appointment; riches and honours depend upon Heaven’ (Analects, 12:5)²; ‘Does Heaven speak? The four seasons pursue their courses, and all things are continually being produced, but does Heaven say anything?’ (Analects, 17:19)³; and ‘Oh! you, Shun, the Heaven-determined order of succession now rests in your person. Sincerely hold fast the due Mean. If there shall be distress and want within the four seas, the Heavenly revenue will come to a perpetual end’ (Analects, 20:1).⁴ Heaven (tien) here can be seen as nature because life and death are parts of the process of the natural cycle. There is commonality in nature and the human world. Life and death cannot be controlled by human beings, nor can wealth and fame.

The corresponding view between nature and humans is strengthened in Daoist thought. The well-known saying about nature by Laozi is as follows: ‘Man takes his law from the Earth; the Earth takes its law from Heaven; Heaven takes its law from the Dao. The law of the Dao is taken from the nature.’ (Trans. Legge, 1891; my modification; Daodejing, 25).⁵ According to Laozi, the primordial reality is nature. Nature is what it is, the physical world and life in general, and the innate and essential disposition of all beings in the world. As human beings are a part of nature, human activities are believed to be parts of nature and consonant with natural change. Therefore, human actions in accordance with nature are taken to be more appropriate than those against nature on the ontological, social-political and moral levels. For the ancient Chinese, the concept of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ (the harmony between humanity and nature) is the cardinal truth.

This concept has been elaborated and expounded by many thinkers throughout Chinese intellectual history. As the influential Han dynasty scholar Dǒng Zhòngshu (董仲舒, 179–104 BC) writes, ‘The heavens have the states of exuberance and depression as well as the circumstances of misery and joy, and so human beings. With respect to the states, the heavens and the humans are alike. In spring there is chì of exuberance and so everything comes to life; in autumn is the chì of depression and so everything withers and falls. In summer is the chì of joy and everything nurtures; in winter the chì wears away and everything decays. Be it nature or human, these four features are common to both.’ (Chun Qui FáLù, 49:1).⁶ The term ‘chì’ (氣) means the vital force that is believed to be the flow of energy constituting every entity in the universe. The notion of ‘chì’ is the core metaphysical concept shared by Daoism and Confucianism. ‘Chì’ is seen as the common constituting element of human nature and the universe. The seasonal cycle is thus used to explain the process of human life. In traditional Chinese views, to live in accordance with the movement, the flow, and the changes of nature is the ideal state of all beings. This is what is meant by the notion of the harmony between humanity and nature.

However, it is still worth noticing that the Chinese idea of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ does not rule out the difference between humans and animals, between culture and nature, or between civilisation and barbarism. The ancient Confucian thinker Xunzi states that a very knowledgeable person (至人, literally an ultimate person) understands about the distinction between ‘tien’ and humans (Xunzi, 17:1; my translation).⁷ In this chapter of On the Heavens, Xunzi clearly states that the heavens are synonymous with nature but he does not agree with the congruity between the human and natural realms. He claims that the heavens remain the same when there are changes of ruling houses: ‘Do the heavens make any influence on the prosperity or the troubles of the world? The sun, moon, stars, and the progress of celestial calendar do not change between the governance of Yǔ (禹, the name of an ancient sage-king) and that of Jíe (桀, an ancient tyrant). People live a prosperous life during the reign of Yǔ whereas a disastrous life during the reign of Jíe. Thus the affluence or the calamity of the world does not depend on the heavens’. (Xunzi, 17:6; my translation).⁸ Unlike the traditional Confucian and Daoist thinkers, Xunzi takes an objective and indifferent attitude towards the heavens. In his view, human beings should not revere or worship the heavens. Rather, human beings shall ‘take the heavens as an object in order to handle it, … understand the heaven in order to use it … and accommodate themselves to the heavens in order to appropriate it’ (Xunzi, 17:15; my translation).⁹ Xunzi’s view does not allow for the transcendence or sacredness of the heavens. Xunzi takes a secular perspective of nature and thereby adopts an anthropocentric position when dealing with environmental issues such as the management of natural resources. He says:

The sage-king should establish his rules as follows: when grasses and tress are budding and growing, no saw or sickle is allowed to be taken into mountains and woods. Never hinder the growth of plants or cause them to become extinct. During the season of reproduction, fish traps and toxins are not allowed to be put into waters. Never impede animals from growing or cause them to die. Plough in spring; weed in summer; harvest in autumn; and collect in winter. Follow the seasonal cycle and the crops will not fail to feed people. Impose fishery rules strictly and aquatic animals will be sustained for humans to use. Log and plant at the proper season and there will be enough forests for timber. (Xunzi, 9:22; my translation)¹⁰

It is obvious that Xunzi’s view is to a certain degree environmentally friendly and ecologically sustainable. Nevertheless, the position he takes is anthropocentric because what concerns him most is the well-being of human beings. He stresses the priority of humans over nature. In line with Confucius, Xunzi respects the sage king as the supreme ruler. The sage king epitomises the ideal personality and character in Chinese tradition. The sage king who is aware of the way of the heavens and follows the dao embodies the notion of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’. Compared with Confucius and Daoist thinkers, Xunzi’s idea of ‘tien’, meaning ‘nature’, is desacralised. It is no longer the Supreme Being, but Xunzi’s view is very much that of a secular rationalist. We may briefly conclude that the traditional Chinese thought aims to pursue the notion of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ but this idea of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ has many interpretations. We have to be careful when considering ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ as it could be easily taken as a signpost for Chinese ecocentrism. Overall, the brief discussion above shows the divergence and dissonance about the relationship between humans and nature in Chinese thoughts. This is the reason for publishing the special issue: to present articles that explore different aspects of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’. By doing so, the vitality and diversity of the Chinese philosophy of education is sustained and reinforced.

Weili Zhao’s article ‘Historicizing Tianrenheyi as Correlative Cosmology for Rethinking Education in Modern China and Beyond’ focuses on the concept of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ and reconceptualises it within the context of modern education in three steps. Zhao firstly clarifies the meaning of the concept of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ in relation to the Confucian ‘person-making education’ by means of Yu Ying-shih’s perspective as a historian. The author then explores co-relationality implied in the relationship between ‘tien’ and ‘rén’ by means of Roger Ames’ ‘relational personhood’ and ‘correlative cosmology’. At last, Zhao moves to the ‘foundational individualism’ as a symbiotic conjoining between humans and the environs, which is the contemporary interpretation of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’. One interesting point worth noticing is the dynamic way of interpreting ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’, which is not the static union of humans and the nature. Rather, ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ bears relationality between culture and nature, and ‘between the heavenly and the human’. The relationality is a key to overturn the anthropocentric view that dominates the ethical realm.

Chia-Ling Wang’s article, ‘Learning from and for one another: An inquiry on symbiotic pedagogy’, explores Chinese ecological wisdom in relation to mutual learning. Symbiosis means the close biological interaction between two different species of organisms. By adopting the view of the Norwegian philosopher Arne Naess, Wang argues that, ontologically, every being on the planet is related to and interdependent on the other beings. According to Naess (2008, p. 199), ‘all beings are one’. The implied holism echoes what we have learned from the ancient Chinese insight of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’. In the relation of symbiosis, the symbionts are different from but dependent on each other. They reciprocally live, develop and evolve together. The symbiotic relation exists not only between biological organisms, but also between humans and other living beings, and between living beings and non-living beings. The interaction between the symbionts can be used to understand the ecological model of learning. The ecological model of learning or the symbiotic learning, as Wang argues, can be discovered in many traditional Chinese texts such as Liji and Zhuangzi. This commonality shared by Daoism and Confucianism shows the possibility of developing ecopedagogy as bridging the Eastern and Western ecological wisdom.

Hongyan Chen and Yuhua Bu’s article ‘Anthropocosmic vision, time, and nature: Reflections on the reconnecting of humanity and nature’ provides a fresh viewpoint to investigate the relationship between humans and nature in traditional Chinese philosophy. The authors initiate the argument with a perceptive insight: ‘In regard to ecological education (EE), the challenge facing China today is transcending the anthropocentric worldview in a pedagogically meaningful way, and thereby freeing ourselves from the inhibitions conditioned by modern science about the relationship between humankind and nature’. Most modern people who are used to the urban and man-made environment rarely have genuine experiences of nature. In this case, ecological pedagogy and environmental education are provided in a disconnected and disinterested way. The particular contribution of this article is the emphasis on time. By broadening the understanding of time, or by replacing the traditional view of time as linear and mechanical with a transformative and multidimensional view, we would widen the worldview, and the meaning of the human-nature relationship and nature. It is noteworthy that Chen and Bu point out that ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ is indeed difficult to achieve in real life. The notion of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’ should not be understood ‘in a cyclical and homogeneous pattern’, which is interpreted in the traditional term of ‘Great Unity’ or ‘Grand Union’—‘dàtóng’ (大同). ‘Tien-rén-hé-yi’ should be seen as a process open to many possibilities. This point raises an interesting question: what kind of unity is it in the human-nature harmony or ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’? Is it taken to be suppressive or tolerant, hierarchical or egalitarian? Is it silent or cacophonic? Can we have a heterogeneous harmony or harmonies?

‘Cheng (誠) as ecological self-understanding: realistic or impossible?’ written by Bin Wu addresses the concept of ‘cheng’ and its relationship with utopia. Wu aptly points out that it is essential to the current ecological crisis to reconsider the meaning and purpose of humanity on earth and, therefore, utopianism is likely to enlighten the way of thought. As Wu says, the Confucian ideal state is depicted in the classic Liji (禮記) (the Book of Rites). It is called the world of ‘dàtóng’ (大同), meaning the Grand Union. The author extends the concept of ‘cheng’, which in traditional Confucianism means sincerity and self-completion, into the realm of utopia in three aspects: (1) the anthropocosmic vision; (2) agency, autonomy and freedom; and (3) earnest practice as the ceaseless process. The perfection of an individual is connected with the sustainability of social and natural worlds. The author argues that a person who is committed to ‘cheng’ aims to pursue the Confucian utopia that is responsive to and responsible for ecological crises. In my view, Wu’s article shows the rarely-noticed but promising dimension of Confucian philosophy regarding environmental problems. A Confucian ideal person of ‘cheng’ is an agency who always cares about the goal of utopia by taking responsibility for contemporary environmental crises.

Jing Lin, Fan Yan, and Tom Culham’s paper ‘From intimidation to love: Taoist philosophy and love-based environmental education’ discusses about the human–nature relationship in terms of emotions and affections. As the authors stress, the escalating environmental crisis has motivated the improvement of environmental education in recent decades with implicit ambivalence. On the one hand, the human connection to nature is encouraged with much enthusiasm. On the other hand, the overwhelming and irresistible force of nature and the disasters it causes are featured. The obvious goal of environmental education is set on the human proximity to nature but the separation between humans and nature is strengthened indeed. This idea brings readers to the conflict between ecophilia and ecophobia (Hung, 2017; Sobel, 1996). Ecophilia means the human affective bond with other beings and the environment in a positive way whereas ecophobia means the human resistance against and negative feelings for the nature. There is a profound question concerning ambivalent human emotions for nature. If the nature is admired and respected for its ability to surpass the realm of human control, it is awed as well. Which responses and reactions to the nature should environmental educators teach students? Respect or fear? Approach or escape? This ambivalent view of nature could result in the difficulty of environmental education. Lin, Yan and Culham argue that the problem consists of the implied anthropocentrism in the current environmental education. In order to solve the problem, the authors suggest seeking inspirations from Daoism, which has rich insights for eco-ethics and love-based environmental education.

Xiaoxia Chen’s article ‘Harmonizing Ecological Sustainability and Higher Education Development: Wisdom from Chinese ancient education philosophy’ considers the issue of ecological sustainability in the field of higher education. Chen highlights the issue of sustainability in relation to modern Chinese higher education. Chen suggests three views to characterise ancient Chinese educational philosophy: a comprehensive view, a dialectical view, and an intrinsic view. Then the author argues for developing the sustainable model of higher education in line with Chinese educational thought that implies the meaning of sustainability. However, the sustainable model of higher education mentioned in this article is mainly about the sustainable development of an organisation—how a higher education institution develops sustainably—rather than about teaching and learning about environmental or ecological issues.

Hongyu Wang’s article ‘Wuwei, self-organisation, and classroom dynamics’ opens the pedagogic dimension of ‘tien-rén-hé-yi’. The Daoist term of ‘wúwéi’ (or ‘wúwéi’) means to act by simply following the dao without the external force. The Daoist Dao can be understood as ‘nature’, implying the natural world and the self-generating process. In a sense, ‘wúwéi’ means how a person accommodates himself or herself to the human world and the natural world without reluctance and difficulty. Wang aptly points out the multidimensionality of the concept of ‘wúwéi’ as it is cosmic, political, and personal. When a person practices ‘wúwéi’, he or she achieves harmony with the nature, the cosmos and the society. Wang questions that the non-separation of ‘wúwéi’ between the subject and the object could obstruct the development of human creativity and freedom. In order to propose a sound Daoist classroom of dynamics through the lens of ‘wúwéi’, Wang borrows the concept of self-organisation from the theory of system. Wang suggests four features by deliberating on the resonance and the dissonance between ‘wúwéi’ and self-organisation. The four features include the nature of change, the role of diversity, the notion of the individual person, and the juxtaposition between ‘wúwéi’ and self-organisation. The comparison illuminates the possibility of creating a classroom of dynamics that encourages the harmonious interrelationship and novelty. I appreciate Wang’s clarification of the concept of ‘wúwéi’ and its application to the pedagogic circumstances. As I have argued elsewhere (Hung, 2018), ‘wúwéi’, as one form of the ‘wú-practices’, means the non-coercive, open, receptive, and responsive way of doing, and the teaching of ‘wúwéi’ is to enable students to actively self-develop and self-cultivate actively.

Last but not least is the article ‘Revisiting the Analects for a modern reading of the Confucian dialogical spirit in education’, authored by Jeong-Gil Woo. This article was originally submitted for the special issue themed about the theme of Confucian self-cultivation. Due to the slow review process and revision, it cannot catch up with the publication. Yet the inclusion of it brings an interesting and insightful final touch to this special issue. The aim of this article is to argue for the dialogic spirit in the Confucian education. There are three significant methodological steps to approaching the goal. The author first examines the implications concerning educational anthropology and dialogical relationship in the Analects from the aspects of humanism, the ethical dimension of dialogical relationship, the fundamental concept of ‘ren’ (or ‘rén’), the reversible Confucian educational relationship between a teacher and a student, and the aesthetics of self-cultivation. Woo then investigates the metaphor of a dialogue between ‘wind and grass’. Confucius seems to be ambivalent about the statuses of people who are involved in a conversation. On the one hand, Confucius maintains the hierarchy between the ruler and the ruled. The ruler’s words to the ruled are as imposing as the wind to the grass. When the wind blows, the grass bends. On the other hand, Confucius claims that a good teacher is simultaneously a student during the process of teaching and learning. How can the Confucian ambivalence be solved or reinterpreted in modern education? In the final step, Woo scrutinises the possibility to contextualise and reconceptualise the Confucian dialogue in modern pedagogy by means of Bernhard Waldenfels’ view of categorisation. According to Waldenfels (2000), the Confucian educational relationship can be understood in three different paradigms of intentionality, communicativity (or communication) and responsivity (or coexistentiality). Woo argues that Confucius’ thought has rich implications for rendering equal and democratic dialogues socially and educationally. Overall Woo’s article provides a novel attempt to link Eastern and Western philosophies which I believe is intellectually and culturally rewarding.

Notes on contributor

Ruyu Hung is Distinguished Professor of Philosophy of Education at the National Chiayi University, Taiwan. She was awarded Research Fellowships of Japan-Taiwan Exchange Association (2018) and Fulbright Senior Researcher Scholarship (2015/6). She was a visiting professor in Osaka University, Japan (2018), the University of Luxembourg (2013-4) and the University of Hawaii at Manoa (2016). Her research interests include broadening and enhancing the philosophy of education, regarding postmodern philosophy, phenomenology, and ecological philosophy. In recent years, she has extended her research into comparative philosophies of education. Her latest publication is a book with an intriguing title Education between Speech and Writing: Crossing the Boundaries of Dao and Deconstruction (2018) published by the Routledge.

Disclosure statement

No potential conflict of interest was reported by the author.

Notes

1 天生德於予, 桓魋其如予何？(論語述而, 7:23)

2 死生有命, 富貴在天。(論語顏淵, 12:5)

3 天何言哉？四時行焉, 百物生焉, 天何言哉？(論語陽貨, 17:19)

4 咨！爾舜！天之曆數在爾躬。允執其中。四海困窮, 天祿永終。(論語堯曰, 20:1)

5 人法地, 地法天, 天法道, 道法自然。(道德經, 25)

6 天亦有喜怒之氣、哀樂之心, 與人相副。以類合之, 天人一也。春, 喜氣也, 故生；秋, 怒氣也, 故殺；夏, 樂氣也, 故養；冬, 哀氣也, 故藏。四者天人同有之。(董仲舒,春秋繁露,49:1)

7 故明於天人之分, 則可謂至人矣。(荀子,天論,17:1)

8 治亂, 天邪？曰：日月星辰瑞厤, 是禹桀之所同也, 禹以治, 桀以亂；治亂非天也。(荀子,天論,17:6)

9 物畜而制之…制天命而用之…應時而使之。(荀子,天論,17:15)

10 聖主1之制也：草木榮華滋碩之時, 則斧斤不入山林, 不夭其生, 不絕其長也。黿鼉魚鱉鰍鱣孕別之時, 罔罟毒藥不入澤, 不夭其生, 不絕其長也。春耕、夏耘、秋收、冬藏, 四者不失時, 故五穀不絕, 而百姓有餘食也。汙池淵沼川澤, 謹其時禁, 故魚鱉優多, 而百姓有餘用也。斬伐養長不失其時, 故山林不童, 而百姓有餘材也。(荀子,王制,9:22)