《道德真經集註(一)》Vol. 5

This scripture passage primarily discusses how to use the Dao (the Way) to assist rulers in governing the state, emphasizing that one should not rely on military force to assert dominance. Several commentators have provided interpretations from different perspectives:

Heshang Gong (the legendary commentator) argues that rulers should employ the Dao to support their governance rather than conquering the world through military might. By aligning with the natural order of heaven, adversaries will submit of their own accord. Wang Bi supplements this view by stating that even those who assist rulers should avoid military aggression—how much more should this apply to rulers themselves? Wang Pang further observes that rulers who truly comprehend the great Dao will naturally attract all things to them, making such considerations unnecessary.

The scripture mentions that "such affairs easily rebound." Emperor Xuanzong explains this as meaning that military action invites retaliation, making outcomes unpredictable. Heshang Gong interprets it as reflecting on one's actions without blaming heaven or others. Wang Bi suggests that rulers obsessed with governance constantly seek achievements, while those who follow the Dao pursue a return to simplicity. Wang Pang explains "rebound" as focusing on restoration rather than initiating attacks, aligning with the principle that "in governing people and serving heaven, nothing surpasses frugality."

The passage then describes the dire consequences of war: lands where armies camp become desolate, and great battles inevitably lead to years of famine. Emperor Xuanzong notes that warfare disrupts agriculture, causing disasters. Heshang Gong states that war generates malignant Qi (vital energy) that harms crops. Wang Bi views armies as instruments of destruction that only harm people and ruin farmland. Wang Pang emphasizes that killing disrupts the harmonious Qi between heaven and earth.

Finally, the text states that those skilled in military affairs stop once their objective is achieved, never daring to persist in aggression. Heshang Gong explains this as acting decisively but not excessively. The entire passage warns rulers to govern through the Dao and exercise caution with military force, as warfare inevitably brings severe consequences.

This passage elucidates the Dao (the Way) of military strategy and wisdom for navigating life. Commentators like Heshang Gong (Han Dynasty annotator) and Wang Bi (Wei-Jin period metaphysician) emphasize that true strength never relies on brute force to gain fame. Those skilled in military affairs only resort to arms when absolutely necessary to resolve crises, never to flaunt their power before the world.

When employing force, one must maintain humility: avoid arrogance after success (勿矜), refrain from boasting about achievements (勿伐), and shun domineering behavior (勿骄). These commentaries reveal that pride, self-aggrandizement, and competitive mentality all stem from excessive self-attachment. Those who truly understand the Dao of warfare only take up arms as a last resort.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary particularly clarifies that military action should solely serve to resist invasion and preserve peace, never to demonstrate might. Like autumn frost that appears harsh yet follows natural law—all things require measured authority to fulfill their purpose. The威严 (awe-inspiring power) of celestial Dao and sages exists only to support De (Virtue/Power); how could one exploit numerical superiority for selfish gain?

The text employs the growth cycle of plants as metaphor: when things reach their zenith, they inevitably decline (物壮则老), and excessive displays of strength violate the Dao (是谓非道). Just as the Qin Dynasty collapsed prematurely through its obsessive pursuit of dominance. Those who embody the Dao embrace all transformations without fixation, thus avoiding the trap of prosperity turning to ruin.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (also known as Emperor Ming) explains: When things reach their peak of strength, they inevitably decline—just as an army relying solely on brute force is prone to defeat. This occurs because such actions violate the principles of the Dao (the Way), and one should cease such aggressive behavior in time.

Wang Pang (a Song Dynasty scholar) adds: Military strength often breeds tyranny, just as fierce winds do not blow all day, nor do torrential rains last through the night. Such sudden surges of power are inherently contrary to the Dao and will quickly fade away.

Chapter 31 specifically addresses the issue of military force: "Fine weapons are inauspicious objects." Heshang Gong (a Han Dynasty commentator) elaborates: Weapons disturb the human spirit (Shen) and disrupt the harmonious Qi (vital energy) of heaven and earth. They are not tools for virtuous people, nor should they be glorified. All things despise weapons because their use inevitably brings harm—thus, those who follow the Dao do not engage with them.

Emperor Xuanzong further clarifies: "Fine weapons" here refers to an obsession with strategy. Ordinary people, unable to secure their lives through moral cultivation, instead treasure military tactics as precious. Yet these strategies serve only conquest and slaughter, making them ill-omened tools. Even common objects detest them—how much more so would a person of Dao? Heshang Gong states that a Daoist ruler would never allow a state to rely on such means, while Wang Pang argues that force should only be a last resort in dire circumstances, never a routine practice.

Therefore, a noble person in daily life honors the left (symbolizing gentleness), but in warfare, honors the right (symbolizing severity). Emperor Xuanzong interprets this distinction: The left belongs to Yang, governing growth—hence its precedence in peaceful times. The right belongs to Yin, governing execution—thus its dominance in military affairs. Heshang Gong notes that this very contrast reveals how warfare opposes the way of the noble.

Weapons are indeed inauspicious. Emperor Xuanzong observes that they glorify slaughter and are not tools of virtuous craftsmanship. Heshang Gong also emphasizes that weapons should never be valued by noble-minded individuals. Wang Pang adds that governance should follow Wuwei (non-action), cherishing the people rather than glorifying force.

Only when absolutely necessary should force be employed. Heshang Gong explains that this applies to situations like defending against chaos or disasters that threaten the people. Even then, one must maintain inner detachment. Emperor Xuanzong illustrates this with the example of repelling foreign invasions: those skilled in victory do not provoke conflict.

This scripture primarily discusses how the art of warfare should maintain an attitude of serenity and equanimity, never glorifying military force. Ancient commentators like Heshanggong and Wang Pang offer valuable insights for understanding its meaning:

First, it establishes that serenity and wuwei (non-action) are the superior approach. Heshanggong explains that true detachment means not coveting land or material possessions. Even in victory, one should not revel in triumph—to celebrate military success as a joyous occasion is equivalent to taking pleasure in killing. Wang Pang adds that weapons are inherently tools of violence; to deliberately adorn them with ornate decorations is to treat killing as something beautiful.

Next, it emphasizes that those who delight in killing can never attain true mastery under heaven. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (Minghuang) clarifies that when victorious over an enemy, one should mourn them rather than treat the victory as celebratory. Heshanggong notes that a ruler who enjoys killing will never win the hearts of the people. Wang Pang quotes Mencius: "Only those who do not relish killing can unify the world."

The text then illustrates military principles through ancient ritual protocol: auspicious events honor the left (representing yang and life), while inauspicious events honor the right (representing yin and death). Thus, the lieutenant general (偏将军) stands to the left as he does not preside over slaughter, while the commanding general (上将军) stands to the right, symbolizing his role in warfare. Both Emperor Xuanzong and Heshanggong point out that positioning the commander on the right follows funeral rites conventions.

Finally, it stresses maintaining sorrow even amid heavy casualties. Emperor Xuanzong observes that while recognizing the preciousness of life, people still kill one another—this should be met with grief. Heshanggong interprets this as self-reproach for insufficient De (Virtue), failing to transform others through Daoist principles and thus harming the innocent. Victories should be treated as funerals: though brave warriors receive honors on the right, this position is inherently inauspicious, hence the need for mourning rituals.

Concerning weapons of war as ominous instruments, why adorn them with white mourning garments? Heshanggong (the commentator) explains: Ancient victorious generals would stand in the position of chief mourner, weeping in plain white garments, demonstrating how noble men value virtue over military force. Even when compelled to execute the inauspicious, they took no joy in it, grieving as if attending a funeral. Knowing future generations would endlessly resort to arms, they felt sorrow in advance. Wang Bi (another commentator) suspects this passage may not be original to Laozi.

Chapter 32 discusses the nature of Dao: The Dao remains eternally nameless. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang (commentator) states: Dao's constancy lies in following all things, yet its manner of accommodation varies endlessly, thus defying any fixed designation. Heshanggong adds: Dao manifests as both Yin and Yang, expands and contracts, exists and perishes, therefore it has no constant name. Wang Pang (commentator) argues: How could the formless Dao possibly possess a name?

Though this primal state (pu, the Uncarved Block) is subtle, nothing in the world dares claim mastery over it. Emperor Xuanzong explains: Pu is the root of all subtlety - minute yet responsive to all things, its application achieves greatness, thus none dare treat Dao as subordinate. Heshanggong says: Though this Dao-origin appears small and formless, none in the world presume to command it. Wang Pang elaborates: In humans it appears as innate nature, in numbers as unity; while not governing any particular Qi, it completes all phenomena, thus eternally preceding concrete things - who could dominate it? The Yijing states "Returning to the minute yet discerning all things."

Should lords and kings preserve this primal state, the myriad things will naturally submit. Emperor Xuanzong maintains: If rulers guard Dao's purity, governing through wuwei (non-action), all things spontaneously yield. Heshanggong says: When kings uphold Dao through non-action, creatures submit through De (Virtue). Wang Bi interprets: Dao leaves no traces, bound by nothing, eternally unnameable - hence "Dao remains nameless forever." This primal state takes wuwei as its heart and likewise lacks names; to attain Dao, best preserve this original condition. The wise may become capable ministers, the brave may lead armies, the skillful may handle affairs, the strong may bear heavy burdens - but this primal state remains whole and impartial, bordering on emptiness, thus none can master it. Preserving the uncarved, governing through non-action, neither burdening essence with externals nor harming spirit with desires, the myriad things submit spontaneously and Dao is naturally obtained. Wang Pang concludes: "Submission" means bowing in allegiance - should lords and kings embody this nameless realm...

This scripture passage primarily discusses how rulers (sovereigns) could achieve natural harmony by governing according to the principles of the Dao (the Way).

When a ruler maintains a state of pristine simplicity (holding fast to essential unity), it is like heaven and earth naturally cooperating to send down sweet dew—no coercive measures are needed for all things to submit of their own accord. This resembles how a child naturally follows when reunited with its mother. The sweet dew symbolizes auspicious signs produced by the harmonious blending of Yin and Yang Qi (vital energies), evenly distributed without human intervention, embodying the natural equilibrium of the Dao.

The text emphasizes that true governance does not lie in external coercion (without resorting to force or rewards) but in inner virtue (De). If the ruler can preserve the nameless simplicity (the original state of the Dao), all things will naturally fall into order, as if nourished by the sweet dew. Mencius’ statement about "flowing in unison with heaven and earth" and Zhuangzi’s critique of "disordered seasons harming people" illustrate, from both positive and negative perspectives, the importance of following the natural Dao.

The discussion on "the beginning of regulation gives rise to names" points out that the original Dao is nameless yet governs all named things (the myriad beings). When a ruler governs with the Dao, all specific phenomena (named things) find their proper place. However, becoming obsessed with named things while straying from Dao and De invites calamity. Thus, one must know when to stop (knowing limits) to avoid danger (free from peril).

Commentaries by Heshang Gong and Emperor Xuanzong of Tang both stress that if rulers uphold the fundamental Dao and De, celestial signs of auspiciousness (sweet dew) will manifest, and all things will naturally attain balance—this is the path to enduring peace and stability.

This passage discusses the relationship between governance and natural laws. When institutions are first established ("始制" refers to society emerging from a state of primal simplicity), official positions and titles must be created to clarify hierarchical order. However, once distinctions are made, people begin contending over trivial advantages, so one must understand where to stop. If governance relies entirely on names and titles, it loses touch with the root of order ("治之母" meaning the source of the Dao).

Just as rivers naturally flow into the sea without being summoned, a ruler who embodies the Dao governs the world without forceful commands, yet all things find their harmonious order. The reason the ocean can receive countless streams lies in its capacity to embrace; the sage attracts people because he maintains integral virtue (De).

Chapter Thirty-Three speaks of cognitive wisdom: Understanding others demonstrates intelligence, but knowing oneself constitutes true enlightenment. Comprehending others is external knowledge ("智"), while self-awareness ("明") represents inner insight. The clever employ intellect to perceive external matters; the enlightened use wisdom to contemplate their inner nature. Only those who clearly recognize their own strengths and weaknesses can achieve meditative introspection—this is genuine understanding.

The one who truly knows oneself possesses wisdom surpassing mere cleverness. As Wang Pang (Song Dynasty scholar) observed: The clever resemble ordinary people, while the enlightened are like mirrors reflecting objects—the mirror simply reflects objectively without subjective bias, thus revealing one's essential nature.

To overcome others merely demonstrates force. Heshanggong (Han Dynasty commentator) noted: Dominating others through power has inherent limitations. Wang Pang added: Such strength may conquer others but cannot conquer oneself.

True strength lies in mastering oneself. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explained: Subduing others proves nothing, while taming one's inner self and transforming rigidity into gentleness constitutes real power. Heshanggong held that those who restrain selfish desires find no rival under heaven. Wang Bi (Wei-Jin philosopher) further elaborated: Overcoming others relies on brute force, but conquering oneself is superior—directing wisdom inward for self-reflection holds greater value than outward contention, and this inner strength cannot be diminished by external circumstances. Wang Pang invoked Confucius' evaluation of Shen Cheng to illustrate: Those ruled by desires can never attain true fortitude.

To know contentment is genuine wealth. Heshanggong stated: The contented preserve blessings long-lasting. Wang Bi remarked: The satisfied never experience lack. Wang Pang expounded using Mencius' teaching "All things are complete within me": Those whose nature is self-sufficient feel no deprivation even in humble circumstances, their spiritual abundance far exceeding material accumulation.

Persisting in practicing the Dao (the Way) constitutes true resolve. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang maintained: Not coveting external things signifies wealth, while unrelenting cultivation demonstrates resolve. Heshanggong said: Those steadfast in virtuous deeds resonate with heavenly principles. Wang Bi emphasized: Diligent practitioners ultimately fulfill their aspirations. Wang Pang particularly noted: Governing the world doesn't signify true resolve—only practicing the great Dao does.

Not losing one's foundation ensures endurance. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang concluded: Contentment, diligent practice, and abiding by one's essential nature—these three constitute the enduring Way.

This passage elucidates the principles of cultivating the Dao and nurturing life. He Shang Gong (a renowned Daoist scholar of the Han dynasty) stated that if one can exercise self-restraint and maintain body-mind harmony without losing what one's innate nature treasures, one can preserve the heavenly endowed Jing (essence) and Qi (vital energy) for a long time.

Wang Bi (a Neo-Daoist philosopher of the Wei-Jin period) supplemented this by saying one should use wisdom to examine oneself, act according to one's capacity, and not deviate from the fundamental Dao—only then can one attain longevity. Lü Huiqing (a Song dynasty scholar) believed that when one's nature remains unswayed by external temptations, true longevity is achieved—this represents the full realization of one's innate nature.

Regarding the interpretation of "dying but not perishing constitutes longevity": Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explained that death marks the end of life, while perishing follows natural law, and "longevity" refers to completing one's life journey. Those who understand contentment and accord with the Dao of Heaven may experience physical death, but their Shen (spirit) will not perish—this constitutes true longevity.

He Shang Gong specified concrete practices: when eyes refrain from indiscriminate seeing, ears from random listening, and mouth from reckless speech, one avoids incurring resentment and naturally attains longevity. Wang Bi further elaborated that though the physical body dies, the Dao one follows never perishes—this constitutes complete lifespan. Lü Huiqing distinguished three types of postmortem states: virtuous persons become "Gui" (returning to original truth), sages become "Shen" (transcending life and death), while fools become mere "objects" (dead while still living). Those who truly cultivate Dao and nurture Shen may experience physical transformation, but their true nature remains eternal—this represents the highest realm of longevity.

The text then outlines the sequence of Dao cultivation: First, one must know oneself and understand what is most precious; knowing what's precious enables practice; the key to practice lies in overcoming selfish desires; overcoming desires requires distinguishing internal from external. Only through persistent practice can one attain the Dao. This describes the complete process from recognizing one's nature to returning to heavenly mandate.

Chapter 34 describes the characteristics of the "Great Dao": The Great Dao flows everywhere, floating and sinking like water, seemingly existent yet non-existent—invisible to the eye and ineffable in words. It can turn left or right, appearing everywhere. Emperor Xuanzong said the Great Dao, though unconstrained, responds to all things without partiality. Both He Shang Gong and Wang Bi emphasized how the Great Dao moves freely in all directions without obstruction. Lü Huiqing viewed the Great Dao as fluid and unconfined, never fixed in any particular place.

The Dao (the Way), as the origin and fundamental principle of the universe, exists as a formless presence whose influence permeates all things. Every being in the world depends on the Dao for survival and growth, yet the Dao never claims credit for this nurturing role. Even after accomplishing the great work of bringing all things into being, it never boasts of its achievements.

Like a garment that gently clothes all creatures, the Dao nourishes them without imposing control like an earthly ruler. Precisely because it is eternally free from selfish desires, it may be described as "subtle" (in the sense of never asserting itself). Yet from another perspective, all things naturally return to the Dao and receive its sustenance—at this level, it may be called "vast" (encompassing all existence).

This "subtlety" is in fact true greatness. Just as those who cultivate the Dao achieve a mind purified of distractions—appearing "subtle" yet containing boundless potential—the Dao, as the source of all things, embodies vastness within its subtlety and subtlety within its vastness. This paradoxical nature defies precise verbal description and must be grasped through mindful contemplation.

Thus, the sages (those who have realized the Dao) emulate its qualities: they conceal their merits and avoid flaunting their greatness. Precisely because they do not inflate themselves, they attain genuine greatness. As the commentary by Heshang Gong explains, the Dao allows all things to come and go freely without interference. This refusal to consciously pursue "greatness" paradoxically achieves the most profound and expansive state of all.

Here we explore how the sages (those who have attained the Dao) emulate the Great Way in their actions. The sage follows the Dao without claiming merit, and precisely because they refrain from flaunting their brilliance, they accomplish truly great deeds. As Heshanggong (a renowned Daoist scholar of the Han dynasty) noted, the sage teaches through personal example rather than words, allowing all things to develop naturally in perfect order.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin period metaphysician) adds that great undertakings must begin with subtle details, and difficult problems should be approached at their easiest points. Wang Pang (a Song dynasty scholar) observes that deliberate pursuit of "greatness" often results in losing true greatness—only what is achieved effortlessly, without striving for greatness, embodies authentic magnitude.

Chapter 35 discusses "holding the Great Image" (grasping the essence of the Dao). Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explains that the "Great Image" is the Dao itself—when rulers govern through it, all beings naturally submit. Heshanggong states that when sages uphold the Dao, people follow joyfully and willingly. Wang Bi interprets the "Great Image" as the origin of heaven, earth and the myriad things—impartial and all-encompassing, it nurtures without harm. Wang Pang notes that rulers who truly embody the Dao govern through non-action (Wuwei), allowing the world to harmonize spontaneously.

"Proceeding without harm" describes how sage-rulers appear to govern without doing, yet enable all beings to fulfill their nature without mutual injury, achieving the highest virtue.

"Peace and stability" emerge when nothing suffers harm. Heshanggong says this brings national tranquility and personal longevity. Wang Bi attributes this to the Dao's formless, impartial nature, while Wang Pang describes it as the natural state of equilibrium following stabilization.

The final analogy contrasts the Dao with "music and delicacies": just as wayfarers pause for pleasant distractions, the Dao's influence runs deeper. Emperor Xuanzong suggests that when rulers govern through the Dao, people gather as naturally as guests attracted by music and food. Yet Wang Bi reminds us that while the Dao's transformative power seems bland and tasteless, its effects surpass all sensory allure in depth and endurance.

This passage explains the characteristics and functions of the Dao (the Way). When governing the world with the Dao, all things naturally return to it. Just as music attracts those who love harmony and delicacies tempt the gluttonous, these are but temporary attractions—passersby linger briefly before departing. Thus temporary dwellings cannot become permanent homes, and excessive emphasis on benevolence and righteousness only invites more criticism.

The true ruler should comprehend the essence of the Dao, maintaining clarity and stillness through Wuwei (non-action), remaining as flavorless as the Dao itself. Initially avoiding overly harsh decrees, one ultimately cultivates simple and honest people. This is why "applying the Dao" is inexhaustible.

The Dao, when spoken, seems bland—unlike worldly speech that evokes intimacy, praise, fear, or contempt. Visually formless, it lacks the visibility of the Five Colors (blue, yellow, red, white, black); audibly toneless, it eludes the Five Tones (gong, shang, jue, zhi, yu) of music. Yet when used to govern, nations achieve peace and prosperity; when used for self-cultivation, lifespan extends without end.

The text further reveals the patterns of development: to contract something, one must first expand it; to weaken something, one must first strengthen it. Like allowing a person extreme extravagance and indulgence, which ultimately leads to their decline—these are all manifestations of the Dao's operating principles.

This passage elucidates the law governing the development and transformation of things: To weaken something, one must first strengthen it (as Heshanggong's commentary explains: strengthening it first allows it to encounter misfortune); to abolish something, one must first make it flourish (Heshanggong notes: flourishing it first leads to arrogance and eventual crisis); to take something away, one must first give it (Heshanggong observes: giving first causes greed to expand to its limit).

Wang Pang further explains that the principle of Yin-Yang transformation resembles a turning wheel or a saw moving back and forth—when development reaches its extreme, it reverses direction. Just as the full moon wanes and the noonday sun declines, all things follow this pattern. Only those who comprehend the Dao can deeply grasp this mystery, understanding that things have no fixed form. Thus, in nurturing life they know the way of bending and stretching; in worldly affairs they perceive the patterns of prosperity and decline; in action they foresee success and failure; in confrontation they master the measure of restraint and release. The ancients could calmly respond to all changes precisely because they understood this principle. This profundity is beyond even spirits and deities to fathom, let alone ordinary people. The Book of Changes speaks of the inchworm bending to extend itself and dragons/snakes hibernating to preserve life—this is what's called "subtle illumination" (the profound yet evident truth).

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary notes that these seemingly paradoxical statements contain profound wisdom. Like the Xun hexagram in the Book of Changes discussing expediency—while expedient measures may appear contrary to normal principles, they accord with the Dao's righteousness. When noble persons employ expediency, they emphasize alignment with righteousness; when petty people use it, it becomes deception. Therefore, Laozi first discusses "holding the great image" as fundamental, then addresses opening/closing and tension/relaxation as expedient measures—only by combining both can one thoroughly comprehend the principle of life. Unfortunately, confused people claim this teaches forgetting morality—what obstinate delusion! Just as to restrain people's desires, one first indulges their greed, letting them become trapped by cravings until they naturally restrain themselves. The principle of strength-weakness transformation follows similarly. Though subtle, its effects are manifest—hence called "subtle illumination."

Heshanggong concludes that these four matters (strength/weakness, flourishing/abolishing, taking/giving, expanding/contracting) contain subtle principles with evident effects. Wang Bi adds that employing these four methods to follow things' inherent nature, allowing them to perish of themselves, constitutes the true meaning of "subtle illumination." Let things fully expand, and they will naturally turn toward contraction.

This passage expounds the profound Daoist principle that "the soft and weak overcome the hard and strong." Using the metaphor of fish not leaving water, Laozi illustrates how rulers must understand the art of statecraft without revealing it to others.

Various commentators interpret this wisdom from different perspectives: Wang Pang (Northern Song scholar) describes this as extremely subtle knowledge comprehensible only to those who perceive things before they manifest. The Yijing states "to know the subtle is divine," referring to the ability to detect nascent signs of change. Sages master this subtle Dao to command all things, achieving harmony with creation.

Emperor Xuanzong of Tang explains: what appears yielding actually holds transformative power—mastering such adaptability controls events, proving softness ultimately prevails over hardness. Heshang Gong (Han dynasty Daoist) observes: gentleness endures while force hastens destruction. Wang Pang further clarifies: though strength seems to dominate weakness superficially, true understanding reveals softness's ultimate victory. Dao-realized individuals grasp this subtle dialectic deeply, maintaining humility without arrogance, emptiness without complacency—contesting nothing yet prevailing over all.

However, this represents only Dao's fundamental principle. In actual transformations, hardness and softness alternate without fixed patterns. The key lies in acting according to Dao while preserving inner gentleness. Thus, weakness truly overcomes strength—the "sharp tools" mentioned refer precisely to this wisdom of soft triumph.

The fish-not-leaving-deep-waters metaphor: Heshang Gong compares fish losing survival conditions when leaving water to rulers deprived of statecraft. Emperor Xuanzong interprets "sharp tools" as political strategy—just as exposed fish become prey, improperly revealed statecraft invites deception.

Heshang Gong identifies "sharp tools" with governance techniques never to be shown to ministers, much less the unworthy. Wang Bi (Wei-Jin metaphysician) considers them the Dao of ruling by aligning with all things' nature—requiring no concrete form yet ordering the state perfectly. Harsh laws resemble fish out of water; when governance becomes overtly manifest, it loses efficacy.

The fish understands how to conceal itself in deep waters, maintaining a soft and yielding posture to preserve its life. The sage (shengren) dwells in secluded and hidden places, yet holds the profoundest art of adaptability, single-handedly orchestrating the transformations of all things. They can reverse the movements of heaven and earth, yet the world cannot perceive their strength; their power shakes the four seas, yet none can discern its source—why would they reveal their divine abilities for public scrutiny?

What sets the sage apart is their understanding of subtle omens. To confront external things with rigidity inevitably invites greater opposition. While all under heaven seek to subdue the myriad things through force, the sage alone abides in the realm of softness and non-contention. Once this power is set in motion, who can withstand it? Just as the seasons cycle, autumn and winter may appear stern, yet they store the vitality for spring and summer’s renewal. The sage remains deeply concealed, outwardly displaying a yielding demeanor, yet drawing all things into their natural order—so subtly that even the spirits cannot fathom its workings. This is what the Yijing calls "the hidden art of exercising power" and what Zhuangzi describes as "the fish’s profound ease in water."

The essence of the great Dao (Dao) is natural non-action (wuwei). Heshang Gong’s commentary explains: The Dao treats all things without partiality—this is the constant principle. Wang Bi says: This is the expression of following nature. Though it appears to do nothing, there is never a moment when it is not acting; though it seems to accomplish all, it never forces anything.

If rulers (houwang) can uphold this principle of non-action in governance, they will accord with the times and follow natural patterns, appearing inactive yet never neglecting the affairs of the world. Just as heaven does not speak yet causes the seasons to revolve and all things to flourish, this is the highest ideal of rulership. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang elucidates: The root Dao is serene and non-acting, thus it can generate and transform all things. When rulers abide in the Dao through non-action, the myriad things will naturally transform, and the sovereign’s effortless governance returns all to pristine simplicity. Heshang Gong states: When rulers preserve the Dao, all things spontaneously return to it—this is the most sublime state. Wang Pang adds: Like the sun shining impartially on all things without claiming merit, true non-action allows each being to find its place without interference.

This passage discusses the state of "natural non-action" (Wuwei) in the Daoist cultivation process. The highest realm is achieved when one harmonizes with the transformations of the Dao (the supreme truth of Daoism) without conscious awareness. However, when deliberate intention arises, it resembles how infants gradually lose their innate purity as they grow—a phenomenon mirrored in the increasing complexity of human nature since the Three Dynasties (Xia, Shang, Zhou).

Those who attain the Dao use its simplest, nameless essence ("the uncarved block") to settle human hearts. Emperor Xuanzong of Tang's commentary explains that when people, already aligned with nature, still harbor deliberate intentions, the pristine quality of the Dao must be employed to pacify such misguided thoughts. The "nameless simplicity" is the Dao itself. Heshang Gong (a Han Dynasty commentator) interprets this as the cultivator maintaining personal simplicity, thereby naturally influencing all things. If common people begin developing cunning or artificial desires, rulers should lead by example, using Dao and De (Virtue) to gently guide and transform them.

Wang Anshi elaborates: When society fully aligns with the Dao, it progressively refines itself, but at its peak, various labels and distinctions emerge, causing people to chase external things and lose their innate nature. Thus, one must hold fast to the nameless simplicity to settle hearts and return to original purity. However, waiting until problems arise to remedy them is too late—misguided thoughts must be checked at their inception.

Wang Bi (a Wei-Jin era Neo-Daoist philosopher) observes: When impulses for deliberate action arise amid change, those who embody the Dao do not intervene actively but instead use the Dao's simplicity to dissolve such tendencies naturally. This resolution isn't forced, just as the sage's non-action stems from innate nature—even when responding to worldly changes, they never deviate from the Dao. True non-action doesn't wait for chaos to emerge before governing, as that would already constitute deliberate effort. Only the state of seamless unity, where one acts without knowing why, represents the simplicity maintained effortlessly.

Heshang Gong adds: When rulers use Dao and De to transform the people, and the people become less selfish and desirous, they should then be guided further through the way of clarity and stillness. Emperor Xuanzong notes: After rulers stabilize the populace with nameless simplicity, they must not cling to this method either, as fixation would create new attachments, causing them to lose the root. Ultimately, even the notion of "no desire" must be forgotten to reach complete purity and naturalness—only then will the world spontaneously return to the right path. Wang Anshi concludes: Once desires arise and stir restlessness, one drifts from innate nature; the farther this deviation, the harder it becomes to return to the Dao's natural state.

The text discusses the concept of "uprightness" (zheng). It conveys that if a person cannot rectify themselves, how could they possibly rectify the world? Only those free from selfish desires, with purified hearts, can first correct themselves and then naturally guide all things back to the proper path.

The phrase "desireless and tranquil" (wuyu er jing) describes the effect of Dao cultivation, yet it simultaneously warns that excessive attachment to this state would lose the original genuineness of the Dao. Thus, the Dao Jing concludes here, implying that spiritual practice must avoid extremes.

This passage emphasizes that cultivating the Dao begins with oneself—first rectifying the self before rectifying others. However, one must also avoid becoming deliberate in pursuing "uprightness," maintaining instead a state of natural wuwei (non-action). When a person truly achieves desirelessness and inner purity, they naturally influence their surroundings to return to the proper way.