《韓非子》Vol. 18

This passage originates from Han Feizi·Six Contradictions, primarily critiquing the phenomenon where societal evaluation standards contradict reality. Han Feizi enumerates six types of people who are praised by the world yet actually harm the state, as well as six types who are disparaged yet genuinely benefit the state.

The six erroneously revered individuals are: deserters who fear death are glorified as "those who cherish life"; scholars who disregard laws are extolled as "erudite masters"; itinerant lobbyists seeking personal gain are called "men of talent"; cunning sophists are regarded as "wise men"; violent brawlers are praised as "brave warriors"; and those who shelter criminals are ironically labeled "righteous companions."

Conversely, the six types of virtuous people scorned by society include: loyal patriots who die for their country are dismissed as "inflexible"; law-abiding honest folk are derided as "fools"; self-reliant laborers are deemed "incompetent"; noble-minded gentlemen are mocked as "simpletons"; obedient officials are insulted as "cowards"; and whistleblowers exposing evil are slandered as "sycophantic villains."

Han Feizi incisively points out that if rulers trust empty reputations and promote those with mere facades, while commoners slander genuinely useful people for private gain, it results in rewarding the punishable and punishing the commendable—such a state can never achieve prosperity.

The passage concludes with two analogies illustrating governance principles: just as washing hair inevitably loses some strands but shouldn't sacrifice the greater for the lesser, or how bitter medicine must be endured for health's sake. The current ruler-subject relationship lacks paternal affection yet attempts to constrain subjects through moralism—this is untenable. Han Feizi thereby emphasizes legalism's necessity, asserting that clear reward-punishment systems must be established.

This passage from Han Feizi presents the core Legalist perspective on state governance. Using the harsh reality of parental treatment toward children as a metaphor for ruler-minister relations, Han Feizi emphasizes the paramount importance of rule by law.

The text opens with a shocking example: parents celebrate the birth of a son but may kill a newborn daughter. Though both are flesh and blood, they're treated differently based on utilitarian calculation. This demonstrates that even the closest kinship bonds are governed by self-interest—how much more so the bloodless relationship between ruler and subject?

Han Feizi criticizes contemporary scholars who urge rulers to govern through benevolence, comparing this to demanding parental affection from a sovereign—an unrealistic expectation. He proposes three essential elements for statecraft through clear legal prohibitions (fajin): First, laws must be precisely articulated; second, rewards and punishments must be impartially administered; third, the people should pursue profit exclusively through legal channels. Only thus can a state achieve prosperity and hegemonic success.

Regarding ruler-minister dynamics, he argues the sovereign's supreme interest lies in dominating the realm, while ministers seek wealth and status. This creates mutual benefit: the ruler uses ranks and stipends to drive ministers to exhaust their efforts, while ministers willingly risk their lives for enrichment. If rulers emphasize benevolence and ministers stress loyalty while neglecting practical interests, hegemonic achievement becomes impossible.

Two vivid analogies illustrate law's necessity: place ordinary objects in darkness, and even virtuous men like Zeng Shen or Shi Yu would be suspected of theft; hang gold in a busy market, and not even notorious thieves would dare take it. Thus, enlightened rulers govern through rigorous safeguards and severe punishments, controlling the people through laws rather than moral suasion.

The passage concludes with a domestic analogy: though mothers love children more than fathers, paternal commands carry greater obedience; though officials lack familial ties to the people, their decrees prevail. This proves authority's effectiveness over affection. Just as parents desire their children's safety, rulers must balance stern authority (wei) and benevolence (ren) when governing the populace.

This passage presents the Legalist perspective on state governance, emphasizing that rule by law is more effective than benevolence in governing a nation.

The author observes that people exert their utmost effort only in times of crisis, becoming lax during peaceful periods. If rulers rely solely on benevolence and material rewards to win popular support, they will find it difficult to motivate people to make ultimate sacrifices. Wise rulers understand this principle—they don't seek to purchase loyalty through favors, but instead establish awe-inspiring legal systems. Just as excessive maternal indulgence often spoils children while paternal strictness cultivates capable offspring.

The text then illustrates with household management: families that maintain mutual discipline and endure hardships together can survive wars and famines with basic sustenance, whereas households that indulge in mutual pampering will resort to selling children during lean years. The logic of rule by law lies in enduring present hardship for future gain, while benevolent governance seeks immediate comfort at the cost of future calamity. The sage weighs these outcomes and chooses the long-term benefits of legalism over the seemingly kind but ultimately harmful path of indulgence.

The author criticizes scholars advocating light punishments, viewing such approaches as recipes for national chaos and collapse. Clear rewards and punishments effectively encourage virtue and deter vice: substantial rewards quickly achieve objectives, while severe penalties immediately stop misconduct. Those desiring national stability must abhor disorder—hence the advocacy for strict laws and harsh punishments. The purpose of severe penalties extends beyond punishing offenders; they serve as warnings to all. Just as harsh punishments for thieves primarily aim to instill caution in law-abiding citizens, those truly committed to good governance should harbor no doubts about severe penalties.

As for generous rewards, they serve not only to recognize merit but to inspire nationwide emulation. These arguments embody the Legalist governance philosophy of "using punishment to eliminate punishment" and "employing war to end war"—asserting that seemingly harsh measures ultimately best safeguard collective interests.

This passage discusses the proper balance between reward and punishment in state governance. Han Feizi argues that for those who have yet to receive rewards, their achievements should be used to motivate them—using one person's merits to inspire the entire populace. Why should a ruler who seeks to govern effectively doubt the power of substantial rewards?

Contemporary rulers who misunderstand governance often claim: "Severe punishments harm the people, while light punishments can still suppress wrongdoing—why employ harsh penalties?" This view fails to grasp governance's essence. What severe punishments can stop, light punishments may fail to curb; but what light punishments can stop, severe punishments will certainly prevent. When a ruler institutes stern penalties, all wrongdoing disappears—how could this possibly harm the people?

True severity in punishment means making the benefits of crime negligible while the ruler's penalties are substantial. People won't risk major punishment for minor gains, ensuring wrongdoing ceases. Conversely, lenient punishment means crime offers great benefits with minimal consequences. When people covet profits and disdain penalties, misconduct persists.

The ancient sages had a saying: "No one stumbles over great mountains, but many trip over small mounds." Because mountains are towering, people tread carefully; mounds being insignificant, people grow careless. Similarly, overly light punishments make people disregard the law. Failing to punish crimes is like driving the state toward chaos; punishing only after crimes occur is setting traps for the people. Thus light punishments resemble small mounds—seemingly harmless but genuinely perilous.

Modern scholars indulge in empty praise from books without examining reality. They claim: "Rulers don't love their people; heavy taxes impoverish them, causing national disorder." They believe sufficient wealth coupled with benevolence makes light punishments effective governance—but this is mistaken.

People submit to substantial rewards and punishments precisely when material needs are met. Even with abundant resources and deep affection, lenient penalties still bring chaos. Consider wealthy families spoiling children: ample resources lead to wastefulness, waste to extravagance; excessive indulgence breeds license, extravagance to poverty, and license to violence. This is the disaster of material sufficiency coupled with indulgence and light punishment.

Human nature dictates that material sufficiency breeds idleness, while a weak ruler emboldens license. Cases like Shennong—where people remained diligent despite abundance, or where orderly governance maintained public virtue—are exceedingly rare.

Han Feizi here discusses the art of governance through historical comparisons. He notes that while exemplary figures like Zeng Shen (a Confucian representative) and Shi Yu (a virtuous minister of Wei) were wise, they couldn't match Shennong (the legendary sage-king of antiquity) in understanding the people's needs. Laozi famously said, "He who knows contentment will not be disgraced; he who knows when to stop will not be endangered." Yet Han Feizi counters: if rulers were all like Laozi—content with sufficiency—how then to explain tyrants like Jie of Xia, who, though holding the supreme position of Son of Heaven, remained insatiable for greater honors, and though possessing the wealth of all under heaven, still craved more without limit?

The truly enlightened ruler governs by these principles: timing agricultural production to increase wealth, adjusting taxation to balance rich and poor, offering generous ranks and stipends to motivate the worthy, and imposing strict penalties to suppress wickedness. Let the people grow rich through labor, gain status through meritorious service, be punished for faults, and rewarded for achievements—not through the ruler's arbitrary benevolence. This is the proper Dao (Way) of imperial governance.

Han Feizi employs metaphors of the blind and mute: if all are asleep, none can tell who is blind; if none speak, none can identify the mute. Similarly, without hearing ministers' counsel, incompetence remains hidden; without assigning responsibilities, inadequacies go undetected. Just as distinguishing strong men requires more than boasts—they must lift the ceremonial ding (an ancient test of strength)—so official posts serve as the "ding and zu" (tools for testing ability). Only by practical engagement do folly and wisdom become apparent.

Foolish rulers, beguiled by sweet words, often exalt those who achieve nothing yet boast of virtue. This is like declaring someone clear-sighted without testing vision, or eloquent without assessing speech. The enlightened ruler does otherwise: words must correspond to results; actions must align with achievements. Thus, empty theories find no voice, and false conduct no hiding place.

Finally, Han Feizi condemns two common distortions: calling favoritism toward old friends "loyalty to past ties," and misusing public resources for charity "benevolence." Such rhetoric, he argues, only confuses right and wrong.

[Note: All specialized Daoist terms from the glossary have been preserved in their pinyin forms as instructed, though none explicitly appear in this political-philosophical excerpt from Han Feizi's legalist writings.]

This passage from Han Feizi discusses the principles of employing officials and governing a state. With incisive analysis, Han Feizi identifies eight seemingly virtuous behaviors that are actually detrimental to the state:

Some who disdain official salaries yet value self-cultivation are praised as "gentlemen" (junzi); those who bend the law to shield relatives are paradoxically deemed "virtuous" (de); those who abandon official duties to befriend the powerful are lauded as "chivalrous"; those who withdraw from court life are called "aloof and noble"; those who defy orders are considered "unyielding"; and those who buy public favor with petty favors are glorified as "winning the people's hearts." Han Feizi argues that these eight behaviors, though superficially admirable, are in fact grave dangers to rulers—employing the "benevolent" drains public resources, "gentlemen" prove difficult to command, the "virtuous" undermine laws, the "chivalrous" neglect duties, the "aloof" shun productive labor, the "unyielding" obstruct decrees, and those who "win hearts" isolate the ruler.

He then analyzes statecraft in depth: Without methods to control subordinates, a ruler will face problems whether employing eloquent intellectuals or morally pristine recluses. The clever may exploit power for personal gain, while the virtuous may prove inept in practical affairs. The enlightened ruler's approach is to lower moral expectations, value grassroots opinions, verify statements, and leave no loopholes for manipulation. Specifically, rewards must match achievements, appointments suit abilities, and faults be scrutinized—punishing errors and rewarding merits. Thus, fools cannot hold power, the clever dare not deceive, and governance remains error-free.

Finally, using Yang Zhu and Mo Di as examples, he demonstrates that even sages widely revered by society cannot have their doctrines enforced as universal laws, since ordinary people cannot attain such ideals. This reflects the Legalist pragmatism of "not clinging to antiquity nor fixating on constants," emphasizing that governance must be grounded in reality rather than blindly imitating so-called moral exemplars.

This passage from Han Feizi primarily discusses the art of statecraft, emphasizing pragmatism and the importance of rule by law. Here is a modern interpretation:

Though figures like Bao Jiao (an ancient recluse) and Hua Jiao (a legendary sage) were praised by the world, Bao Jiao stubbornly clung to his principles like a withered tree and died, while Hua Jiao drowned himself in a river. Such men could never become "plowmen and warriors" (practical contributors to state production and military strength). When evaluating talent, rulers should value the dialectical skills of the wise and respect the practical achievements of the capable. Yet contemporary rulers instead admire useless rhetoric and honor impractical behavior—such an approach will never lead to national prosperity.

Learned and eloquent figures like Confucius and Mozi did not engage in farming—how then could the state obtain grain? Exemplars of filial piety and asceticism like Zeng Shen and Shi Yu did not participate in warfare—how then could the state benefit? Ordinary people pursue personal advantage, while rulers must seek public welfare. To live in abundance without laboring, or to enjoy fame without holding office—these are private interests. To suppress empty rhetoric and impractical doctrines, clarify legal standards, eliminate private gain, and unify rewards and punishments—these serve the public good.

If laws guide the people yet empty literary pursuits are exalted, the people will grow doubtful of the law. If rewards motivate the people yet moral cultivation is revered, the people will slacken in production. To both promote literary sophistry that disrupts legal order and esteem moral cultivation that dilutes merit—such an approach will never achieve national prosperity.

Holding a jade scepter while performing the shield-and-axe dance (an ancient martial dance) is less practical than wielding a square shield and iron spear. Elaborate ceremonial movements are less useful than half a day of archery practice. Competing in target shooting with "pheasant-head" markers (ancient targets) is less effective than rapid volleys from strong crossbows. Relying on city walls for defense is inferior to digging trenches and setting ambushes. The ancients revered virtue, medieval times pursued wisdom, but today supremacy depends on strength.

In antiquity, affairs were few and tools crude and incomplete—hence there were those who pushed wheelbarrows made of clam shells (symbolizing primitive simplicity). Ancient populations were small and intimate, resources abundant and profit unimportant, making deference easy—thus there were cases of abdicating rulership. But to employ crude tools in times of complexity is no preparation for the wise; to follow abdication customs in an era of intense rivalry is no method for sage governance. Therefore, the wise do not ride in wheelbarrows (i.e., cling to outdated methods), and sages do not implement obsolete policies. The rule of law is fundamental.

Through contrasting past and present, Han Feizi stresses that in the Warring States era of contention, outdated moralizing must be discarded. Only pragmatic rule by law, emphasizing agricultural and military strength, can achieve national prosperity.

This passage from Han Feizi expounds the core tenets of Legalist statecraft, arguing that governance should rely not on benevolence and morality, but on rigorous laws and strategic statecraft.

The text begins with military analogies: capturing a major city may incur soldier casualties, but if the overall gain outweighs the loss, it is justified. Just as washing hair causes strands to fall or curing illness requires enduring pain, one should not abandon great undertakings due to minor hardships. Ancient sages recognized that perfection is unattainable—like compasses wearing down or water rippling—and emphasized the importance of weighing costs and benefits.

Next, it uses the metaphor of a sliding weight on a balance scale: people do not rely on the weight because it is "virtuous," but because it lacks any capacity for self-adjustment. Similarly, a wise ruler governs by ensuring officials dare not break laws or engage in corruption, making all state affairs as impartial as the weight. The key is not to seek flawlessly upright officials, but to establish systems that expose malfeasance.

Finally, it contrasts maternal love with governance: though a loving mother cherishes her child, she entrusts discipline to teachers and healing to physicians. Overindulgence—refusing correction or treatment—would harm the child. Likewise, a ruler cannot govern through kindness alone but must employ methods that strengthen the state. Only through strict laws and astute strategy can internal stability and external security be achieved. The foundation of the state is not moral virtue; excessive leniency, though seemingly compassionate, may lead to ruin.

This passage from Han Feizi primarily discusses principles of governance and the relationship between rulers and ministers. Its core message is:

Both excessively benevolent and tyrannical rulers lead their states to ruin. A benevolent ruler cannot bear to punish and freely rewards those without merit, while a tyrannical ruler indiscriminately kills the innocent and enforces chaotic laws. These extremes breed resentment among the people, ultimately sparking rebellion.

Some scholars today fail to study the fundamentals of governance but delight in empty discussions of humaneness, righteousness, and virtue (De). This is as useless as telling a starving man to eat without providing food. A truly enlightened ruler should establish comprehensive laws that account for all contingencies rather than relying on ad hoc decisions.

If a ruler delegates all judgment to subordinates—letting cooks determine flavors, musicians judge musical quality, or favored ministers decide state affairs—the ministers will grow contemptuous. A ruler must personally control the power over life and death, just as tigers and leopards maintain their majesty through claws and fangs, or the wealthy display status through possessions. Should this authority slip away, the ruler's commands will go unheeded.

The text concludes by emphasizing that if the people can become well-fed, clothed, and unafraid of death without relying on their ruler, they will cease to obey. Therefore, a ruler must control the people's livelihoods and maintain absolute authority over life and death; otherwise, they cannot command their subjects. History records no instance where a ruler who lost this vital power could still enforce governmental decrees.

Han Feizi's "Eight Canons" elucidates the core principles of state governance. He asserts that ruling must accord with human nature, since all people have preferences and aversions—this is why systems of reward and punishment can be effective. Only with such systems in place can prohibitions be established, completing the tools of governance.

The ruler must skillfully wield authority (the power to govern) to ensure that orders are followed and prohibitions observed. Authority constitutes the system determining life and death, while power serves as the foundation for controlling the masses. If appointments and dismissals lack standards, authority will be profaned; if rewards and punishments are decided collectively by ministers, the ruler's majesty will be diluted.

A wise ruler does not listen to opinions based on personal preferences nor make decisions in moments of fleeting joy. If words are heard without verification, authority will be divided among treacherous ministers; if wisdom and strength remain unused, the ruler will be sidelined by subordinates. Therefore, an enlightened ruler exercises authority like the heavens—unpredictable—and employs people like ghosts—inscrutable. Acting like the heavens invites no criticism; acting like ghosts invites no obstruction.

When authority is effectively exercised and governance is strict, even actions that defy convention will meet no resistance. When standards for praise and censure are unified, none in the realm dare speak recklessly. Rewarding the worthy and punishing the cruel is the highest good; conversely, rewarding the cruel and punishing the worthy is the greatest evil. This is called "rewarding conformity and punishing deviation."

Rewards should be generous, making the people see benefit; praise should be splendid, making them feel honored; punishments should be severe, making them fear; censure should be sharp, making them feel ashamed. Then, laws must be uniformly enforced, private interference (from powerful families) prohibited, and judgments of merit and fault unimpeded. Rewards and punishments must be discerning, and the method of discernment lies in thoroughly understanding the truth of matters.

This passage discusses how a ruler should employ wisdom in governing a state, with the core principle being that "collective wisdom surpasses individual intelligence."

A ruler who relies solely on personal intellect is inferior to one who skillfully harnesses the wisdom of the entire nation. A mediocre ruler understands how to utilize the capabilities of ministers, while an exceptional ruler can synthesize the collective intelligence of all. When handling state affairs, it's crucial to gather diverse perspectives for deliberation—disunity in counsel leads to contradictions, blurring the line between wisdom and folly, resulting in indecisiveness.

The wise ruler establishes systems: all ministerial proposals must be documented for later verification of their outcomes. Successful policies warrant rewards, while failures demand accountability. The truly enlightened ruler need not labor personally; by mastering methods to evaluate ministers and fostering mutual oversight among them, the ruler maintains an aura of profound authority, compelling ministers to exhaust their full potential.

The second part identifies six root causes of state turmoil: interference by the queen mother, rivalry among royal consorts, princes contending for succession, brothers usurping authority, ministers monopolizing power, and so-called virtuous men manipulating the throne. The discerning ruler must clearly demarcate public and private spheres, distinguishing beneficial from harmful dynamics: the queen mother must not meddle in governance, consorts must observe strict hierarchies, illegitimate sons must not challenge legitimate heirs, brothers must not encroach upon authority, ministers must be prevented from forming factions, and caution must be exercised toward self-proclaimed sages. Through rigorous enforcement of prohibitions and a clear system of rewards and punishments, the schemes of treacherous individuals can be effectively thwarted.

This passage discusses methods for rulers to prevent ministerial rebellion, focusing on two key strategies: external deterrence and internal favor.

The ruler controls ministers through dual means: external authority that inspires fear (wai yue wei) and internal benevolence that cultivates gratitude (nei yue ai). Relying solely on appeasing ministers' fearful demands or heeding their flattering words inevitably leads to disorder.

Specific measures include: strictly supervising foreign-appointed officials and executing those with close foreign ties, thereby denying external forces potential collaborators. Domestically, ranks and stipends should be awarded based on merit—those seeking rewards without achievement must be punished, preventing internal opportunism.

For key appointments, three control methods are prescribed: First, hostage-taking of relatives (zhi) as collateral; second, generous emoluments (zhen) to pacify; third, rigorous surveillance (gu) to stabilize. The virtuous restrain themselves when kin are held, the greedy moderate for lavish pay, and the treacherous find no openings under tight scrutiny.

Five state-endangering scenarios are enumerated: Favoring courtiers invites calamity (you huo); consorting with petty men breeds resentment (xia zei); suppressed anger escalates into turmoil (zeng luan); overmighty ministers risk coups (juan huo); capricious wrath invites poisonous retaliation (dan wei). Rulers ignorant of these face potential regicide.

The wise ruler, it emphasizes, should evaluate domestic officials by merit while leveraging foreign interests strategically. Thus the state stabilizes while rivals descend into chaos. Disfavored ministers are checked through external pressures; favored ones are controlled via internal mechanisms.

The concluding "fourfold investigative method" (si can wu zhi dao) involves: multilayered verification (can) to ascertain truth and meticulous scrutiny (wu) to uncover faults. Investigations must be rigorous, scrutiny decisive. Laxity breeds disrespect; hesitation fosters collusion. Through this approach, clarity prevails and crises are preempted.

This passage from Han Feizi discusses the ruler's techniques for controlling ministers:

A ruler examines ministers through four aspects: observe how they reward dissenters when forming cliques, and how they punish those who share the same views when executing non-informers. In handling state affairs, one must comprehensively consider geographical conditions, seasonal timing, natural laws, and human circumstances—only when these four verifications align can truth be discerned.

Specific methods include: verifying a minister's loyalty through multiple testimonies, shifting perspectives to understand their true character, and mastering surface appearances to detect anomalies. Keep close associates nearby, use stern words to intimidate distant officials, trace their past to understand previous offenses, approach them to observe their inner thoughts, and distance them to examine their outward behavior. Control visible situations to investigate hidden ones, dispatch secret agents to prevent negligence, speak contrary words to test suspicious individuals, and discuss anomalies to expose conspiracies.

Establish censors to monitor unilateral decisions, observe officials' actions to uncover treachery, publicly declare principles to guide confessions, feign humility to test integrity, spread information to learn secrets, and create conflicts to dismantle factions. Unify thinking to consolidate hearts, leak extraordinary information to alter others' plans. Use similar cases for comparative verification, enumerate faults to expose their essence. Master evidence to establish authority, secretly send inspectors to detect signs of decline.

Implement hierarchical control starting from lower officials: the prime minister restrains court ministers, court ministers restrain subordinates, military officers restrain soldiers, envoys restrain attendants, county magistrates restrain clerks, palace officials restrain servants, and consorts restrain maids. This layered control is called the "Way of Systematic Governance." Once strategies are leaked, these techniques lose effectiveness.

Truly enlightened rulers emphasize meticulous execution. Revealing joy or anger weakens the power of rewards and punishments—thus wise rulers remain inscrutable. Relying on one person to understand ten is an inferior method; using ten to monitor one is superior. Enlightened rulers employ both higher and lower techniques, leaving no hiding place for treachery. Establish collective responsibility systems where neighbors expose each other, reward informers, punish concealers, and ensure mutual supervision at all levels.

Thus, whether noble or common, all are mutually restrained by law while maintaining harmony. The people gain both material benefits and good reputations; the ruler enjoys both a sage's fame and the reality of reward-and-punishment power. When name and substance align, blessings naturally manifest.

When hearing statements without verification, one cannot hold subordinates accountable. Without examining the actual effects of words, deceitful rhetoric will blind the ruler. Consensus opinions aren't necessarily trustworthy—even if ten claim to have witnessed something, none may have actually seen it.

This passage elucidates the governance principles for rulers to discern truth from falsehood and effectively manage their ministers.

A ruler must exercise caution when evaluating ministers' counsel, as treacherous officials often gain trust through popular opinion, masking selfish motives with clever rhetoric. A wise sovereign examines the practical utility of proposals and verifies their efficacy. Eloquence without substance has no place in court, and incompetent officials should be dismissed. Exaggerated claims must be thoroughly investigated—those found deceitful should be severely punished, while baseless statements warrant legal consequences. All ministerial advice must be substantiated, suggestions must be actionable, and factional discourse should never reach the ruler's ears.

The method of an enlightened ruler involves: when pleased, scrutinizing the adopted advice; when angered, examining the content of reprimands. By observing ministers' reactions to shifts in the ruler's disposition, one can determine whether their praise or criticism stems from public duty or private interest. Ministers should present individual counsel while the ruler makes independent decisions, preventing officials from evading responsibility. No minister may simultaneously propose contradictory policies—they must clearly choose one position; nor may they implement opinions without thorough verification. This leaves no opening for treacherous elements.

Regarding legal governance, excessive ministerial authority arises from lax enforcement of laws. When rulers are negligent and unrestrained, officials seize power arbitrarily. Wealth and excessive authority among ministers become sources of chaos. The enlightened ruler's approach includes: appointing competent individuals, commending those who fulfill duties faithfully, and rewarding meritorious service. When ministerial proposals conform to legal standards, they bring benefit during the ruler's approval and avoid calamity during displeasure. Thus, people won't favor relatives but will recommend even personal enemies (indicating merit-based appointments). Authority must suffice to enforce laws, salaries must ensure livelihood—then selfish motives cannot take root. Though the people labor, they won't resent the government, because official posts aren't granted lightly, and honors must come through proper ranks; officials don't seek private gain, as benefits derive solely from salaries. When citizens value ranks and emoluments, the state becomes well-governed. Excessive punishments, mismatched titles and realities, and improper rewards or penalties—these are grave errors in statecraft.

This passage elucidates the fundamental principles of state governance by a ruler. Han Feizi posits that when the people doubt the system of rewards and punishments, incentives lose their motivational power, and penalties fail to deter misconduct. A wise ruler must ensure that rewards are based on public benefit and honors are bestowed only on those who truly serve the state. Commendation must align with legal standards, and punishment must be enforced without leniency. In this way, the people will not resort to scheming for rewards, knowing that severe penalties inevitably bring infamy. The people will naturally fear punishment, and the state will be well-governed.

Regarding the exercise of authority, if a ruler excessively displays benevolence and righteousness, it undermines their majesty; excessive kindness disrupts the rule of law. The people should revere the law and submit to the ruler, but if the ruler uses power to curry favor with subordinates, officials will become unrestrained. When the people perceive that defying the ruler is easy, the ruler’s authority dissipates. Conversely, governing through law ensures the people dare not defy their superiors. If the ruler acts according to the law without indiscriminate leniency, officials will understand that benefits must be obtained through proper channels.

If laws are undermined, private interests interfere with the ruler’s authority, and bribery distorts the efficacy of the law, tolerating such behavior leads to chaos, while forceful governance invites slander. In such cases, the ruler’s position is weakened, and the law becomes disordered among officials—this is the state of a "land without constancy" (an unstable nation). The governance of an enlightened ruler should ensure that ministers cannot gain honor by flaunting benevolence and righteousness, nor can they claim merit for private familial interests. All achievements and reputations must derive from the state’s legal framework; even praiseworthy deeds outside the law should not be publicly lauded.

A unified legal system must be established to regulate the people, clear rewards and punishments employed to harness their talents, and impartial evaluations used to guide virtue and vice. Titles, rewards, punishments, and laws must be mutually reinforcing. Thus, ministers will act in reverence of the ruler, and the people’s achievements will benefit the state—this is the true "well-governed state" (a land ruled by the Dao).