《莊子》Vol. 9

In the “Horses’ Hooves” chapter of the Zhuangzi, a contrast between horses’ natural disposition and human domestication illustrates the Daoist principle of following nature.

A horse’s hooves are naturally able to tread on frost and snow, and its coat can withstand wind and cold. When hungry, it eats grass; when thirsty, it drinks water. When happy, it runs about freely. This is the horse’s true nature. Even the most splendid platforms and stables would be of no use to it.

Then Bole, a famous horse judge of ancient times, appeared and declared, “I am skilled at training horses.” He burned their coats with hot irons, trimmed their manes, pared their hooves, branded them, tied them with bridles and reins, and shut them in pens and stalls. As a result, two or three out of every ten horses died.

Next, he made the horses go hungry and thirsty, forced them to gallop at full speed, and trained them to keep their steps in formation. Restrained at the front by bits and decorative harness, and threatened from behind by leather whips and bamboo switches, more than half the horses died.

Through this parable, Zhuangzi shows how imposed rules and coercion can harm living beings’ natural dispositions and violate the principle that the Dao follows nature. The horses were once free, but after human domestication many of them died. The story also suggests the harm caused when rulers interfere too much in the lives of the people.

The potter says, “I am skilled at making pottery: my round vessels meet the compass’s standard, and my square ones conform to the carpenter’s square.”

The carpenter says, “I am skilled at working wood: I make curved pieces fit the gauge and straight ones follow the ink line.”

But clay and wood—by their nature, were they born to conform to these rules? Yet people have praised them for generations, saying, “Bole was skilled at training horses, and the potter and carpenter were skilled at shaping clay and wood.” This is precisely the mistake made by those who wish to govern the world.

I believe that those who are truly skilled at governing the world do not act this way. The people have their own innate nature: they weave cloth and wear clothes; they farm and eat. This is their shared nature. Whole and undivided, free of partiality—this is natural spontaneity.

So, in the age when De (Virtue) was at its purest, people walked with steady steps and looked with calm attention. In those days, there were not even paths on the mountains—a sign of how rarely people had left their mark on the natural world.

This passage from the Zhuangzi describes an ideal world in natural harmony and how human systems of ritual and music damage our simple, original nature.

【A world in natural harmony】

There are no human-made boats or bridges in the marshes. All things grow of themselves: animals gather in herds, and plants flourish. In such a place, people can play alongside birds and beasts, even climbing up to observe magpies’ nests. In an age of perfect virtue, humans live together with animals and coexist as equals with all things. Why, then, would anyone need to distinguish between gentlemen and petty people?

【Our simple nature】

When people remain free of knowledge and desire, they can preserve their unspoiled virtue. This simple, unadorned state is what human nature is.

【How ritual and music damage human nature】

Then the so-called “sages” appeared. They made a show of benevolence, forcing themselves into acts of kindness (biéxiè wéi rén), and strained to impose righteousness (dìqí wéi yì). In doing so, they caused people throughout the world to become confused. They indulged in the pursuit of pleasure (chánmàn wéi lè) and devised elaborate rites (zhāipì wéi lǐ); only then did the world begin to divide. A whole piece of wood, left uncarved, could never become a sacrificial wine vessel. And if white jade were not damaged, how could it be carved into an artifact?

This passage expresses Zhuangzi’s idea of “abandoning sageship and discarding cleverness.” It argues that human systems of ritual and music disrupt the simple state in which people live in harmony with nature. A xizun is an ancient vessel for sacrificial wine. Zhuangzi uses it to show how human craft can damage the nature of things.

This passage comes from “The Hoofprints of Horses” in the Zhuangzi. It mainly criticizes how imposed rules damage people’s natural nature. In modern plain language, it can be understood this way:

The first part says: If natural virtue—the unspoiled state true to our nature—is left intact, why do we need artificial moral standards such as humaneness and righteousness? If people’s nature remains whole, why restrain them with ritual and music? If the five colors—blue-green, red, yellow, white, and black—appear naturally, who would deliberately pursue patterns and ornament? If the five notes—gong, shang, jue, zhi, and yu—are naturally harmonious, who would need the six pitch standards of ancient music to regulate them?

The passage then offers an analogy: Cutting an intact piece of wood into a tool is the carpenter’s fault; destroying natural virtue in order to promote humaneness and righteousness is the sage’s fault.

The second part takes horses as an example. In their natural state, horses live on the land, eating grass and drinking water. When happy, they rub their necks together; when angry, they turn and kick each other. This is the simple nature of horses. But when people fit them with harnesses and ornaments, such as crossbars, yokes, and crescent-shaped forehead pieces, the horses learn to resist. Some twist their heads away, some slam against the yoke, and some secretly bite the reins. Their cunning and defiance are all the fault of Bole, the famed judge of horses, who here stands for those who tame them.

Through these two examples, Zhuangzi argues that imposed rules and instruction can damage the naturally simple nature of all things. As people today might put it, “the more you teach them, the worse they get.” He advocates following nature and reducing human interference.

In the time of the ancient He Xu clan, people lived simply and at ease. They settled wherever they happened to be, walked without any fixed destination, played with food in their mouths, and wandered about once they had eaten their fill. They simply lived as they naturally did.

Then the so-called “sages” appeared, and everything changed. They devised elaborate systems of ritual and music to regulate people’s conduct, and raised the banners of benevolence and righteousness to soothe their hearts. As a result, people began straining to outdo one another in cleverness and vying for profit. Once this way of life took hold, it could not be stopped. These, it seems, were the harms brought by those “sages.”

This passage contrasts ancient times with the present to criticize the Confucian ritual system for constraining people’s natural nature. The age of the He Xu clan symbolizes the Daoist ideal of rule through Wuwei (non-action), while the “sages” refer to Confucian worthies who promoted moral instruction through ritual and music. The passage suggests that rules of morality devised by human beings can undermine people’s natural simplicity.