《墨子》Vol. 6

Here Mozi expounds a core principle of governance: multiplying a nation's strength through rational resource allocation rather than territorial expansion. When enlightened rulers govern, they issue decrees and initiate projects solely for the people's benefit, utilizing resources without waste—thus increasing social wealth without overburdening citizens.

Consider clothing production: garments must serve both winter and summer needs—providing warmth in cold months and breathability in heat. Any design failing this dual purpose should be abandoned. Similarly, buildings must withstand winter winds while offering shelter from summer sun and rain, with additional security considerations. For armor and shields, the criteria are lightness combined with durability—anything less should be discontinued. Vehicles and boats must be lightweight yet efficient, ensuring unimpeded travel.

The universal principle for all manufactured goods is this: only produce what proves genuinely useful. Thus, under sage-kings' rule, resources aren't squandered, citizens aren't overtaxed, yet tremendous benefits accrue. Rather than emulating nobles who hoard jewels, exotic animals, or fine steeds, redirecting such resources toward practical clothing, housing, weapons, and transportation would exponentially strengthen the state.

Regarding population growth, Mozi cites ancient marital laws: men must wed at twenty, women at fifteen. Though post-sage-kings' eras saw variations (some marrying at twenty, others delaying until forty), implementing the sage-kings' standard—encouraging unions ten years earlier with a three-year childbearing period—could double the population within two to three years. This demonstrates how proper policies can readily boost demographic expansion.

This passage comes from the "Moderation in Expenditure" chapter of Mozi, which criticizes the extravagance and exploitation by rulers of the time while advocating the ancient sage-kings' political philosophy of frugality and care for the people.

The rulers of today employ truly excessive methods to deplete their populations: they overburden the people with labor and impose heavy taxes, leaving them destitute, with countless dying of cold and starvation. Worse still, the nobility frequently mobilize armies to attack neighboring states—campaigns lasting a full year at longest, several months at shortest—keeping husbands and wives separated for prolonged periods, which further diminishes the population. The people find no peace in their dwellings, their meals are irregular, and many succumb to illness and death; add to this the incalculable casualties from sieges and field battles. These are not the actions of good rulers—their methods of reducing the population are truly excessive.

Mozi states: Only by abandoning such useless practices and emulating the governing principles of the sage-kings can true benefit be brought to the world. The ancient enlightened kings were able to rule the world and lead the feudal lords precisely because they genuinely cherished the people, worked diligently for their welfare, and kept their word. They remained steadfast in this until death, never growing weary.

The ancient sage-kings established rules for frugality: all artisans—cartwrights, potters, metalworkers, carpenters—were to produce only what was truly useful. Any expenditure beyond what sufficed for the people's basic needs was to cease if it brought no additional benefit. Regarding food, the sage-kings' standard was this: as long as it filled the stomach, strengthened the body, and maintained keen senses, it sufficed. They did not pursue perfect seasoning, enticing aromas, or exotic delicacies from distant lands.

For example, when Yao governed the world, his territory stretched south to Jiaozhi (northern Vietnam), north to Youdu (around present-day Beijing), and east and west to where the sun rises and sets—nowhere under heaven failed to submit. Yet his lifestyle was remarkably simple: at meals, he ate only one type of grain and no more than one meat dish, drinking and eating from earthenware vessels, dispensing with elaborate ceremonial rituals. As for clothing, the sage-kings' standard was this: in winter, dark garments should be light and warm; in summer, hemp cloth should be cool and comfortable.

The ancient sage-kings governed with pragmatic wisdom: clothing needed only to be light and comfortable, armor and weapons merely functional without burdening the people. Witnessing wild beasts harm humans, they taught the people to carry swords for protection—blades that could pierce when thrust, cleave when slashed, yet withstand lateral strikes without breaking. Armor was made light and flexible for unhindered movement, while carts were designed to bear heavy loads over long distances with stable, swift travel. Facing great rivers, they invented boats for crossing—even vessels for nobility avoided extravagant ornamentation.

Regarding funerals, the sage-kings established simple rites: three burial garments sufficed to shroud the deceased, a three-inch coffin adequately housed the bones, and graves were dug only deep enough to avoid groundwater. Mourners weren't required to observe prolonged rituals after interment. In antiquity when dwellings didn't exist, people lived in caves. Recognizing that caves blocked winter winds but trapped summer dampness—harmful to health—the sage-kings invented houses. Walls needed only to shelter from wind and rain, interiors to be tidy for ancestral rites, with partitions separating genders.

Mozi observed: Benevolent rulers govern the world as filial children serve their parents. A filial child strives to lift parents from poverty, prosper the household, and restore order to domestic chaos. If ability, resources, or wisdom fall short, they still exhaust their efforts. But they would never indulge in wasteful extravagance that brings no benefit to the people.

Here Mozi examines whether elaborate funerals and prolonged mourning conform to the principles of benevolence and righteousness (renyi). He observes two diametrically opposed views in society: one considers lavish burial rites and extended grief as expressions of filial piety and virtue, while the other deems them incompatible with true benevolence. Both sides claim to inherit the traditions of ancient sage-kings like Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, Wen, and Wu, yet their words and actions contradict each other, leaving later generations perplexed.

Mozi proposes evaluating these claims through practical outcomes. He argues that if extravagant funerals and extended mourning could genuinely enrich the poor, revitalize depopulated regions, stabilize crises, or restore order to chaotic states, then they would indeed embody benevolence and filial duty, warranting promotion. Conversely, if such practices fail to deliver these benefits and instead exacerbate poverty and social disorder, they cannot represent true virtue and should be discouraged.

Mozi emphasizes that authentic humaneness (ren) must prioritize the welfare of all people, using tangible results to assess the merit of any custom. Beneficial practices that serve the nation and its citizens should be upheld; harmful ones must be abolished. This pragmatic standard reflects the core of Mozi's philosophy—"universal love" (jian'ai) and "condemnation of offensive war" (feigong)—which advocates evaluating all actions by their concrete utility rather than blind adherence to ritual conventions.

Mozi here critiques the prevalent customs of lavish funerals and prolonged mourning in his time. He points out that the true way of governing a state should be to promote benefits and eliminate harms, yet the rulers of his day were plunging the common people into chaos—a situation rarely seen throughout history.

Mozi observed that many scholars and gentlemen of his time still harbored doubts about the merits and drawbacks of extravagant funerals and extended mourning. He therefore meticulously enumerates the harms these customs bring: when aristocrats and nobles conduct funerals, they prepare multiple coffins, lavish burial goods, and ornate garments, building towering tombs; commoners nearly bankrupt themselves to hold funerals. When feudal lords die, they deplete the state treasury of gold, silver, and jewels for burial offerings, interring vast quantities of vessels, chariots, musical instruments, and weapons—as if burying the living with the dead.

The mourning rituals further dictate: prolonged wailing and lamentation, dwelling in crude thatched huts, sleeping on straw mats, forcing oneself to endure hunger and cold until one's face becomes haggard and body weak. The mourning period lasts three years, during which even walking requires a cane. If such practices become widespread, officials cannot attend to governance, farmers cannot till their fields, artisans cannot craft tools, and women cannot weave. Lavish funerals squander vast resources, while prolonged mourning disrupts normal production—this is as absurd as forbidding farming while expecting abundant harvests.

Mozi here critiques the prevalent practice of elaborate funerals and prolonged mourning prevalent in his time, highlighting three major societal harms caused by these customs:

First, the pursuit of family prosperity becomes impossible. According to contemporary funeral rites, three years of mourning were required for deceased rulers, three years for deceased parents, three years for deceased wives and eldest sons, with several months of mourning prescribed for other relatives. Such extended mourning periods left people physically weakened and visibly haggard, severely impairing their productive capacity. Commoners couldn't keep warm in winter or cool in summer, resulting in countless deaths from illness that critically impacted population growth.

Second, attempts to increase population prove futile. These mourning rituals create contradictions as absurd as expecting longevity while carrying a sword on one's back. Prolonged mourning not only damages health but also delays marriages and childbirth, leading to population decline.

Finally, such customs disrupt social order. States grow impoverished from lavish funerals while populations dwindle from extended mourning. When officials devote themselves to funeral affairs, governance suffers; when commoners focus on mourning rituals, production falters. Material shortages breed domestic conflicts—sons resent fathers, younger brothers resent elder brothers, and ministers rebel against rulers. Impoverished individuals turn to banditry, creating social instability.

Mozi argues that attempting to govern a state through such funeral institutions is as irrational as commanding someone to repeatedly turn around while forbidding them to show their back. Far from achieving orderly governance, these practices only bring poverty, population decline, and social chaos.

(Note: "Elaborate funerals and prolonged mourning" refers to customs involving extravagant funeral expenditures and extended mourning periods; the character 睘 is interchangeable with 还, meaning to turn around or rotate)

This passage from Mozi primarily critiques the harms of lavish funerals and prolonged mourning periods, while outlining the simple burial customs established by ancient sage-kings.

Mozi's position is clear: If a state implements policies of extravagant funerals and extended mourning, it will inevitably lead to three dire consequences: national impoverishment, population decline, and political chaos. A poor nation cannot stockpile resources; a dwindling population means no laborers to build defensive walls or dig moats; political disorder results in military defeats abroad and instability at home. Such a state would practically invite invasion from powerful neighbors.

The notion of seeking blessings from spirits through lavish burials is particularly absurd. Impoverished states cannot provide pure sacrificial offerings; depopulation leaves insufficient hands to conduct rituals; political turmoil disrupts proper scheduling of ceremonies. By treating spirits in this manner, they would only bring down calamities as punishment.

The burial laws decreed by ancient sage-kings stipulated: a coffin three inches thick, merely adequate to contain the body; three sets each of burial garments and coverings, sufficient to shroud the remains; a grave pit not deep enough to reach groundwater nor high enough to emit odors, with an area no larger than three plow-widths. After burial, the living should not prolong weeping but promptly resume productive labor—each contributing their abilities for mutual benefit. This constitutes the sage-kings' method of governance.

Through this discourse, Mozi expresses his opposition to Confucian funeral extravagance while advocating utilitarian ideals of frugality in expenditure and burial. He argues rulers should focus on enriching the state, strengthening military capacity, and improving people's livelihoods rather than indulging in hollow funeral pomp.

Mozi here critiques the prevailing customs of lavish burials and prolonged mourning during his time. Using examples of ancient sage-kings, he demonstrates that true enlightened rulers practiced simple burials and brief mourning periods:

When Emperor Yao passed away while teaching the eight Di tribes in the north, he was buried north of Qiong Mountain wrapped in merely three sets of garments, placed in a coffin made of coarse wood and bound with vine ropes. After the burial, people resumed their normal lives. No mound was erected over the grave, allowing oxen and horses to walk freely over it later.

Emperor Shun died while instructing the seven Rong tribes in the west and was buried near the marketplace of Nanyi, similarly wrapped in three garments with a crude wooden coffin tied with vines. The marketplace continued operating as usual after his interment, with people passing by freely.

King Yu expired while educating the nine Yi tribes in the east and was buried at Mount Kuaiji—again with three sets of clothes, a three-inch-thick tung wood coffin bound with vines. The grave's depth was precisely measured to neither reach underground springs nor allow odors to rise to the surface. After burial, excess earth formed a modest mound no larger than three furrows of farmland.

Mozi emphasizes that these three sage-kings, though honored as Sons of Heaven possessing all under heaven, deliberately chose simple funerals despite their limitless wealth. In stark contrast, contemporary nobility wasted resources extravagantly: preparing multiple coffins, jade artifacts, weapons, musical instruments, embroideries, chariots with horses, and even burying entertainers alive. Their massive tomb constructions exhausted the people and drained state coffers to shocking degrees.

Mozi challenges: If lavish burials and prolonged mourning truly helped the poor prosper, increased population, or stabilized chaotic times, they would indeed be benevolent practices worth promoting. Yet reality proves the opposite—such customs only impoverish nations, decrease populations, and destabilize societies. Therefore, extravagant funerals and extended mourning neither conform to benevolence and righteousness nor represent true filial piety, and must be abolished.

Mozi here critiques the prevalent customs of lavish funerals and prolonged mourning. He points out that while it's already wrong for large states to attack smaller ones, attempting to seek blessings from spirits through extravagant burials will only invite disaster instead. Examining the governing principles of sage-kings like Yao, Shun, Yu, Tang, King Wen of Zhou, and King Wu of Zhou reveals that lavish funerals fundamentally contradict the Way of the sage-kings. In contrast, the actions of tyrants like Jie of Xia, Zhou of Shang, King You of Zhou, and King Li of Zhou align perfectly with these extravagant funeral practices.

When some insist on maintaining these customs, Mozi counters that this is merely due to habitual practice. He provides several examples: East of Yue there was a country called □mu where the firstborn son would be dismembered and eaten, claiming this would "benefit younger brothers." After a grandfather's death, they would carry the grandmother into the wilderness to abandon her, saying "a ghost's wife cannot dwell with the living." When such practices become local customs, can they truly be called the Way of humaneness and righteousness?

South of Chu in the Yanren country, they would strip flesh from deceased relatives and discard it, considering only the burial of bones as filial piety. West of Qin in the Yibing country, they would pile firewood to cremate deceased relatives, claiming this allowed the soul to ascend to heaven. Though these became official decrees and customs in their regions, they similarly contradict the principles of humaneness and righteousness.

Mozi argues that from these three countries' perspectives, Central Plains burial customs are excessively extravagant, while from the Central Plains viewpoint, those foreign funerals appear too austere. Just as clothing and food should be moderate, why shouldn't funeral rites observe restraint? He thus establishes burial standards: a coffin three inches thick simply to contain the bones, three layers of clothing merely to shroud the body, and a grave depth sufficient to prevent water seepage and odor. After mourning, people should return to work, with restrained sacrificial offerings.

Through comparing different regional funeral customs, Mozi demonstrates that lavish burials aren't divinely ordained, advocating instead a pragmatic philosophy of frugal funerals and restrained mourning. He maintains funeral rites should maintain moderation like daily necessities, opposing the wasteful extravagance that exhausts people and depletes resources.

In discussing filial piety, Mozi states that following his teachings would not violate the fundamental interests between life and death. He particularly emphasizes: the scholar-gentlemen of today, if they sincerely wish to practice benevolence and righteousness and become virtuous sages, should look upward to emulate the governing principles of the ancient sage-kings and look downward to seek the tangible benefits for the state and its people.

The policy of "frugal funerals" (节丧) mentioned here is especially noteworthy. Mozi argues that extravagant funeral customs neither align with the ways of the sage-kings nor benefit the livelihood of the common people. He advocates that funeral rites should be appropriately simplified—this not only demonstrates filial piety toward the deceased but also avoids imposing excessive financial burdens on the living. Such a pragmatic approach is a quintessential example of Mozi’s philosophy in balancing the interests of life and death.