Ziran and Continuous Orderly Transformation: New Interpretation of Ziran in Daodejing

Abstract

The term ziran first appears in the Daodejing, yet its precise meaning and attribution remain ambiguous in this book, sparking ongoing scholarly debate. This paper argues that Laozi’s idea of ziran fundamentally pertains to all things and the common people, rather than the Dao or the ruler, and its realization depends on the noncoercive action (wuwei, 無為) of the Dao and the ruler. While ziran is commonly understood as “natural” or “free from external force”, Laozi reinterprets it beyond its literal meaning, integrating the notion of order through its relationship with wuwei and thus imbuing it with theoretical significance. In this framework, ziran encompasses orders of internal senses and orders of external activities inherent in all things while simultaneously excluding excessive and disorderly desires. It thereby serves as a criterion for assessing the orderliness of desires. Furthermore, by elucidating ziran as the continuous transformation of things, the standard to which the ideal ruler or the sage resorts to curb the disorderly desires of the common people is established.

1. Introduction

As an idea introduced in the Daodejing and further developed by later Daoist thinkers1, ziran has long been noted and discussed by scholars. In the recent studies specifically focused on its meaning within the Daodejing, numerous researchers have sought to clarify its significance through philological analysis. As a result, there is a general consensus within the Chinese academic community that ziran denotes the “naturalness” and the “absence of external force” (X. Liu 1995, pp. 94–95; Q. Wang 2004, pp. 41–49; Zheng 2019, p. 228). Beyond this, scholars with a broader philosophical perspective have further interpreted ziran in terms of “spontaneously so” (Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 68–69) or “authenticity” and “authority” (Tadd 2019).

However, neither the prevailing philological consensus nor the diverse philosophical interpretations have successfully resolved the theoretical debate regarding the subject to which ziran is attributed or clarified its precise connotation. On one hand, there is no scholarly agreement on the subject of ziran, with existing interpretations falling into three main categories. The first view attributes ziran to all things and the common people (Chikyu 2009, p. 27; B. Wang 2010, pp. 49–51; Z. Wang 2010, pp. 39–41). The second maintains that ziran primarily describes the state of the Dao and the sage who embodies it (Luo 2019, pp. 70–73; Tadd 2019, pp. 4–9). The third seeks to reconcile these positions, arguing that ziran applies to both the Dao and the sage, as well as to all things and the common people (Song 2015, pp. 80–82; Lin 2017, pp. 1–6). While this third perspective appears to be more inclusive, such a compromise risks undermining the conceptual precision of ziran within Laozi’s philosophy, assuming that only one of the first two views is correct. Given that both philological and philosophical approaches have proven insufficient to resolve this debate, a careful and in-depth reading of the Daodejing is necessary to determine the proper attribution of ziran.

On the other hand, both the literal and philosophical meanings of ziran remain ambiguous regarding the boundary between the natural and the unnatural. As Lao Sze-kwang has pointed out,

“All forms of naturalism must presuppose a distinction between the natural and the unnatural, attributing positive value to the former. This view, however, presents a peculiar problem: it is impossible to determine what constitutes the ‘unnatural’ or ‘anti-natural,’ since even certain negative qualities (e.g., deceit) are rooted in natural abilities” (Lao 2003, pp. 143–44).

If we consider key propositions in the Daodejing, including “the Dao follows ziran” 道法自然 or “the sage helps all things to follow their ziran without any coercive action” 聖人以輔萬物之自然而不敢為, both of which suggest an affirmation of ziran, Lao’s critique of naturalism becomes particularly relevant to Laozi’s thought. After all, Laozi’s idea of ziran does not unconditionally affirm all actions of things, nor is it compatible with excessive desires, as indicated in Chapter 37 of the Daodejing2. Therefore, Lao’s critique necessitates a deeper examination of ziran, as the existing interpretations fail to clarify the boundaries between the natural, the unnatural, and the anti-natural.

To address this issue, a deeper understanding of ziran can be achieved by further exploring its theoretical relationship with noncoercive action (wuwei, 無為) in the Daodejing3. Some insightful studies have suggested that noncoercive action serves as the means to attain ziran, while ziran represents the ultimate goal of noncoercive action (X. Liu 1996, p. 146; Meng 2016, pp. 38–39). Within this conceptual framework, the ideal outcomes of noncoercive action are inherently encompassed within the meaning of ziran, whereas results produced through coercive action are fundamentally opposed to ziran. This perspective offers a new philosophical avenue for further investigation into the concept.

Building on the methodological considerations outlined above, this paper first aims to clarify the subject to which ziran is attributed. It then seeks to delineate the boundary between the natural and the unnatural by elucidating the theoretical relationship between ziran and noncoercive action (wuwei). Specifically, it argues that the outcomes achieved through wuwei constitute the intrinsic meaning of ziran. Ultimately, orderly and continuous transformation emerges as the objective criterion of ziran, as it represents the ideal outcome of the Dao’s noncoercive action.

2. Ziran Attributed to All Things and the Common People

2.1. Ziran of All Things Followed by the Dao

The idea ziran first appears in the Daodejing through the following five expressions: (1) “With all things accomplished and the work complete, the common people say, ‘we are spontaneously like this’” (baixing jiewei woziran, 百姓皆謂我自然) (Ch.17). (2) “It is natural to speak only rarely”(xiyan ziran, 希言自然) (Ch.23). (3) “The Dao follows what is spontaneously” (Daofaziran, 道法自然) (Ch.25). (4) “The Dao is revered and Virtue honored is because they make myriad things act spontaneously without imposing coercive imperative on them” (mozimingerchangziran, 莫之命而常自然) (Ch.51). (5) “The sage help all things to follow their own way without any coercive action” (shengrenyifuwanwuzhiziran erbuganwei, 聖人以輔萬物之自然而不敢為) (Ch.64). In these instances, ziran is associated with the common people, actions, the Dao, and the sage. An intuitive interpretation, therefore, is to conceptualize ziran as a universal principle applicable to all things, rather than as a quality limited to a specific category. This perspective is foreshadowed in He Shang Gong’s commentary: “The nature of the Dao is ziran and takes nothing as its principle” (K. Wang 1993, p. 103). Since the Dao generates all things, and all things rely on the Dao, it follows that they may, in some way, embody the attributes of the Dao, albeit in an incomplete manner.

However, this interpretation is not without theoretical and textual challenges, necessitating further critical examination. From a theoretical perspective, if ziran is understood as an attribute of the Dao that establishes its foundational status for all things, then while this interpretation successfully clarifies the relationship between the Dao and all things, it still grapples with a more fundamental question: whether the Dao or ziran holds primacy. This very issue was already a subject of debate between a Buddhist monk and a Daoist during the Tang dynasty:

A Buddhist monk asked, “Since the Dao is the supreme and greatest, with nothing surpassing it, can we then say that the Dao is the highest principle and that there is nothing which the Dao itself follows as a principle?”

The Daoist replied, “the Dao is indeed the highest principle, and there is nothing that it follows as a principle.”

The monk refuted this, saying, “But the Daodejing explicitly states: ‘Humans follow the Earth, the Earth follows Heaven, Heaven follows the Dao, and the Dao follows ziran’, Why, then, do you contradict the words of the Daodejing by insisting that there is nothing the Dao follows as a principle? Moreover, if the Dao is the highest principle yet still follows something as its principle, then why claim that it is the greatest and that nothing surpasses it?”

The Daoist replied, “the Dao is ziran, and ziran is the Dao. Therefore, the Dao does not take anything else as its principle.”

The monk challenged this, asking, “If saying that the Dao follows ziran means that Ziran is identical to the Dao, then can we also say that ziran follows the Dao as its principle?”

The Daoist responded, “the Dao follows ziran, but ziran does not follow the Dao as its principle.”

The monk refuted, saying, “If saying that the Dao follows ziran as its principle implies that ziran does not take the Dao as its principle, then it can also be inferred that the Dao following ziran as its principle implies that ziran is not identical to the Dao.” (L. Liu 2018, pp. 179–80).

Although both the Buddhist monk and the Daoist employ the idea of greatness (da, 大) to discuss the Dao, it is also possible to interpret it in a functional sense as the ontological ground for the existence of all things4. To assert that the Dao is the greatest is to affirm its status as the ultimate ground, i.e., one that depends on nothing else and neither needs nor can follow any more fundamental principle. Thus, the Daoist perspective emphasizes the Dao’s unparalleled theoretical primacy in relation to all things.

However, the monk points out that the Daodejing explicitly states that the Dao follows ziran (what is spontaneously so) as its principle, implying that the Dao does, in fact, follow something. Philosophically, to “follow” suggests that the entity being followed possesses attributes or characteristics that the follower lacks, and thus that the entity being followed is, in this respect, superior to or greater than the follower. Consequently, if the Dao follows ziran, this suggests that the Dao is following qualities that are superior to itself, which directly contradicts the claim that the Dao is the supreme and greatest. Ultimately, what the monk underscores is the inherent tension between the Dao’s foundational role as the basis of all things and the proposition that “the Dao follows ziran”.

In response to this tension, the Daoist prioritizes affirming the Dao’s theoretical status as the ultimate foundation of all things and seeks to refute the monk’s inference that ziran is greater than the Dao. The Daoist argues that the Dao does not follow anything external to itself and that what is referred to as ziran is, in fact, identical to the Dao.

Moreover, throughout Chinese intellectual history, scholars have provided two distinct interpretations of the claim that ziran is the Dao. According to the first interpretation, ziran refers to the manner in which the Dao operates. As Emperor Xuanzong of the Tang dynasty唐玄宗 explicitly states, “Dao fa ziran means that the Dao acts spontaneously; it does not mean that the Dao follows ziran” 道法自然，言道為法自然，非效法自然 (Xiong and Chen 2011, pp. 470–71). The second interpretation is advanced by the Tang dynasty Daoist thinker Cheng Xuanying 成玄英. According to his view, ziran constitutes the true substance to which the Dao refers, suggesting that the Dao is merely the manifestation and designation of ziran (Xiong and Chen 2011, p. 306).

However, both of these interpretations present inherent difficulties in textual analysis and fail to provide a theoretical response to the monk’s critique. First, if we adhere to the fundamental grammatical meaning of fa 法 in the proposition Dao fa ziran, namely, that one entity models itself after another, then under the interpretation that ziran is the mode of operation of the Dao, it becomes evident that the Dao neither needs nor can imitate or follow itself, as it necessarily operates in this manner. Second, if the Dao is understood as the manifestation of ziran, then even if this interpretation holds, the Dao itself would not need to follow ziran but would instead directly present or embody it.

Of course, one might also adopt Cheng Xuanying’s view and interpret the Dao as merely a designation for ziran. In this case, Dao fa ziran would have to be understood as a linguistic formulation, signifying that the Dao is simply a name for ziran. However, this reading conflicts with the real meaning of the Dao in Chapter 25 of the Daodejing, where the Dao is regarded as being as objectively real as the heavens and the earth, rather than the mere name or designation.

In this sense, the attempt to resolve the problem between the Dao’s supreme theoretical status and ziran, which is followed by the Dao, by equating the Dao with ziran, ultimately fails to provide a satisfactory theoretical resolution.

However, the apparent irresolvability of this problem is itself based on a particular premise: the relationship between the Dao and ziran is considered in isolation, without taking other factors into account. Given that the Dao and things consistently appear together in the Daodejing and Laozi explicitly suggests the idea of “the ziran of all things” in Chapter 64, it becomes highly plausible to attribute ziran to the things.

Yet, this brings us back to the monk’s second objection: If the Dao serves as the ontological basis of all things, why would it need to follow them? Would this not undermine the Dao’s status as the ultimate ground, that is, its theoretical position as the “Great”? While the dialogue between the monk and the Daoist suggests a positive answer, it ultimately conceals a more fundamental question: how is the Dao’s foundational role in relation to all things articulated in the Daodejing? Or more precisely, how does the Dao attain its status as the “Great” in contrast to all things? Chapter 34 answers this question obviously,

All-pervading is the Great Dao! It may be found on the left hand and on the right. All things depend on it for their production, which it gives to them without assuming any proprietary claim. When its work is accomplished, it does not claim the name of having done it. It clothes all things as with a garment, and makes no assumption of being their lord. it may be named small because of its no private desire; it may be named great for helping all things return (to their root) without making any assumption of being their lord. It is through its not regarding himself great (when accomplishing its work) that it become great.

(Ch. 34; Lou 1980, p. 85; see Legge 2008, p. 62)

According to this chapter, the “greatness” of the Dao is manifested in its capacity to generate and nourish all things without ever asserting its superiority over them. It is precisely through this rejection of self-aggrandizement that the Dao is able to accomplish its profound work of sustaining and nurturing all things. Any claim to self-importance would confine the Dao within the name it claims for itself, thereby restricting it to a specific determination and preventing it from impartially nurturing all things without distinction. However, Chapter 32 of Daodejing states that “the Dao is always nameless” (Ch.32; Lou 1980, p. 81), suggesting that the Dao is fundamentally indeterminate. This indeterminacy ensures that it is not bound by any fixed attribute, allowing it to be described as both “small” and “great.” Thus, it is through its namelessness and indeterminacy that the Dao possesses infinite power, enabling it to bring about various concrete manifestations, such as movements to the “left” and “right” in Chapter 34, as well as the clarity of heaven, the tranquility of earth, and the spiritual efficacy of divinities, as described in Chapter 39 (Lou 1980, pp. 105–6).

If we examine the context of Chapter 25, where the proposition “the Dao follows ziran” appears, it becomes evident that this chapter establishes a fundamental connection between the Dao and greatness:

There was something undefined and complete, coming into existence before Heaven and Earth. ……It may be regarded as the mother of all things. I do not know its name, and I give it the designation of the Dao (the Way or Course). Making an effort (further) to give it a name I call it The Great.

(Ch. 25; Lou 1980, pp. 62–63.; Legge 2008, p. 46)

Here, the expression of “the mother of all things” implies that both the Dao and great need to be understood within an ontological framework that emphasizes their foundational role in relation to all things. Obviously, this interpretation clearly aligns with the previously cited Chapter 34. Furthermore, Chapter 25 describes humans (particularly rulers), earth, heaven, and the Dao as all being “great”, a characterization that highlights a shared virtue among them, i.e., the ability to generate and nurture all things without claiming mastery over them. In this sense, even if we interpret the proposition the Dao follows ziran as meaning that the Dao takes the ziran of all things as its principle, an understanding could be supported by Chapter 64’s statement that “sages help all things to follow their own way without any coercive action”, this would not undermine the theoretical primacy of the Dao’s greatness. Rather, this understanding of Dao fa ziran is already inherent in the very connotation of the Dao’s greatness5.

The theoretical relationship between the greatness of the Dao and the proposition that the Dao follows ziran, as discussed above, is equally applicable to Chapter 51’s exposition of ziran. This is because Chapter 51, like Chapter 25, affirms the Dao’s honor (zun, 尊) precisely when articulating its function of generating and nurturing all things, as evident in its statement:

Lives of all things are given by the Dao and nourished by Virtue. As a result, things receive their shapes and become tools when they are completed. Therefore, all things without exception honor the Dao and exalt Virtue. This honoring of the Dao and exalting of Virtue is not the result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute (mozhiming er changziran, 莫之命而常自然). Thus, it is that the Dao gives all things lives, nourishes them, brings them to their full growth, nurses them, completes them, matures them, maintains them, and overspreads them. It gives them lives and makes no claim to their possession of them; it carries them through their processes and does not vaunt its ability in doing so, it nurtures them to maturity and exercises no control over them. This is called dark virtue.”

(Ch. 51; Han 2012, p. 179; Legge 2008, p. 92)

This discussion of ziran is often interpreted as emphasizing that the Dao’s honor lies in “not the result of any ordination, but always a spontaneous tribute” or “its acting spontaneously all the time without receiving any honorific title from things” (Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 156–57). However, if we consider that the earlier part of this chapter explicitly attributes the Dao’s honor to its role in generating and nurturing all things, then such an interpretation may misunderstand the actual reason why the Dao is described as honored. Within this context, the statement of mozhimingerchangziran 莫之命而常自然 should still be understood in relation to the Dao’s function of generating and nurturing all things. Furthermore, the subsequent part of this chapter suggests that readers should understand this claim of ziran in light of this noncoercive mode of generating and nurturing things. As Zheng Kai has pointed out, all the statements describing the “dark virtue” of the Dao in Chapter 51 are essentially the particular expressions of noncoercive action (Zheng 2019, pp. 14–15). In this sense, the claim of ziran in Chapter 51 means that the Dao does not impose commands upon things nor bestow honorific distinctions that mark hierarchical differences, but instead allows things to follow their own ziran.

This understanding could be supported by both philological and theoretical considerations within the Daodejing. From a philological standpoint, Chapter 32’s statement that “the common people are not commanded (by rulers), yet they spontaneously become harmonious” (minmozhilingerzijun, 民莫之令而自均) (Ch.32; Lou 1980, p. 81) suggests that things should be as both the object of command (ming, 命) and the subject of ziran in Chapter 51, as the relation of the ruler and the common people is parallels that between the Dao and all things (B. Wang 2010, pp. 49–50; Z. Wang 2010, pp. 44–47). From a theoretical perspective, just as the greatness of the Dao lies in its ability to generate and nurture all things without assuming dominion over them, the honor of the Dao carries the same implication. In other words, both the greatness and honor of the Dao stem from its capacity to generate and nurture things through its noncoercive action, ultimately enabling the realization of the ziran of all things, as elucidated in Chapter 25.

2.2. Ziran of the Common People Followed by the Ideal Ruler

Since the Daodejing frequently emphasizes that sages emulate the Dao in assisting the common people to realize their own ziran, Chapter 51’s assertion that the Dao does not impose commands upon things to realize their ziran could be understood in connection with the discussions of ziran in Chapters 17 and 23. This connection arises from the fact that the idea of “words” (yan, 言) mentioned in these two chapters actually refers to the political commands of sages or rulers (Chen 2003, pp. 141–42). First, according to Chapter 17, the common people’s experience of being in a state of ziran is achieved precisely through “the ruler’s careful restraint words or commands” (youxiqiguiyan, 悠兮其貴言). Since such restraint is manifested in practice as the rulers’ moderation in imposing decrees, this aligns with the claim in Chapter 23 that “it is natural to speak only rarely” (xiyanziran, 希言自然)6. Thus, Chapter 23’s claim of ziran implies that the ruler must curb the desire to issue excessive commands in order to allow the common people to realize their own ziran. Obviously, the claims of ziran in Chapters 17 and 23 are in line with what the Dao does to all things in Chapter 51.

The discussion above has sufficiently demonstrated that all five occurrences of ziran in the Daodejing are exclusively associated with all things and the common people, rather than with the Dao or sages. Moreover, the fact that the Dao takes “the ziran of things” as its principle of action does not diminish its theoretical status; rather, it further highlights the Dao’s “greatness” within Daoist thought, thus addressing potential theoretical objections to such a view.

3. Ziran as Orders of Lives and Their Criteria

3.1. Ziran as Internal and External Orders of the Common People’s Lives

Although we can establish both a philological and philosophical basis for attributing the subject of ziran to all things or the common people, this interpretation does not yet fully explain what ziran actually means for them, leaving its precise meaning in need of further clarification. This ambiguity arises, in part, from the fact that Laozi never explicitly defines ziran but instead employs the term across various contexts. Nevertheless, since the ziran of the common people and all things is both the result and the aim of noncoercive action presented by the sage and the Dao, we can approach the theoretical meaning of ziran by examining the results and the aims achieved through noncoercive action. Chapter 3 provides a useful starting point for deepening our understanding of what ziran means for the common people:

Not to promote those of superior ability is the way to keep the common people from rivalry among themselves; not to prize things that are difficult to procure is the way to keep them from becoming thieves; not to show them what is likely to excite their desires is the way to keep their minds from disorder. Therefore, the sage’s ruling empties their minds, fills their bellies, weakens their wills, and strengthens their bones. He constantly (tries to) keeps them unprincipled in their knowing and objectless in their desires and, where there are sophists, to keep them at bay. It is simply in doing things noncoercively that everything is governed properly.

(Ch. 3; Lou 1980, p. 8)

In this paragraph, noncoercive action is understood as the ideal method of governance, which involves two interrelated elements: the ruler and the common people. The superiority of this method is articulated through both negative and positive aspects. On the negative side, Laozi first critiques a series of specific measures imposed by rulers for their disruptive effects on the order of the common people’s lives and minds. The series of assertions, “not to promote those of superior ability” “not to prize articles which are difficult to procure”, and “not to show them what is likely to excite their desires”, do not directly define what ideal governance entails. However, they clearly demonstrate an intention to critique and counteract specific policies rooted in the ruling principle of coercive action (youwei/weizhi, 有為/為之), which stands in direct opposition to the principle of noncoercive action (Y. Wang 2022).

Since the ideal principle of governance is noncoercive action, which stands in opposition to coercive action, this series of “not to” assertions should be understood as concrete expressions of this principle within a political context. In this way, the positive aspects of noncoercive action in governance become evident through the harm that coercive action inflicts upon the ziran of the common people and all things. Firstly, insofar as the policies based on coercive action lead to the disorder in the lives and minds of the common people, the ziran of the common people, as the aim or ideal outcome of noncoercive governance, signifies the order of their lives and minds. Furthermore, if we take into account Chapter 12’s similar critique of the detrimental effects of rituals associated with the “five colors”, “five sounds” and “five flavors”, then the ziran of the common people implies the order of the common people’s senses as well:

The five colors blind people’s eyes, the five notes impair people’s ears. the five flavors destroy people’s palates, the hard riding of the hunt bring disorder to people’s mind, things that are difficult to procure leads people to subvert proper conduct. Thus, the sage’s governance seeks to satisfy (the craving of) people’s belly, and not the (insatiable longing of the) their eyes. Thus, the sage’s ruling exerts his efforts to satisfy people’s belly rather their eyes.

(Ch.12; Gao 1996, p. 275)

Obviously, the expressions of “bringing disorder to people’s mind”, “things that are difficult to procure” and “the sage’s ruling” indicate a clear parallel between Chapters 3 and 12, both in terminology and context. Thus, the statements in Chapter 12 can be seen as a supplementary explanation of Chapter 3. Although the terms “five colors”, “five notes”, “five flavors” and “the hard riding of the hunt” are commonly interpreted as references to indulgent desires (K. Wang 1993, p. 45; Chen 2003, p. 119; X. Liu 2006, p. 173), Du Zhengsheng’s insightful analysis reveals that these expressions had distinct political and social functions in the pre-Qin era. Specifically, they were integral to ritual-ruling (lizhi, 礼治), a political system designed for a few nobles of the Zhou royal family and used to regulate all the people in social and political life (Du 2005, pp. 221–24). Since Laozi explicitly associates this ritual-based governance with coercive action in Chapter 38 (Ch.38; Lou 1980, p. 93), the disorder of the common people’s eyes, ears as well as plates the disorder of the common people’s eyes, ears, and palates can be understood as a consequence of the ruler’s coercive governance. In this sense, the inner order of the common people’s eyes, ears, as well as other senses, will be the connotation of their ziran.

If we recall that the literal meaning of ziran means the inborn, the natural, and the absence of external force, then the ziran of the common people implies that they inherently and naturally possess an ordered state of senses and mind, unshaped by coercive external forces.

Moreover, Laozi’s rejection of universally imposed measures on the common people further underscores the diverse nature of their ziran. For example, the measures of “five colors” “five sounds” and “five sounds” establish uniform standards for regulating the common people’s sensory experiences. The reason these measures disrupt their senses is that individuals possess different natural endowments, implying that the proper ordering of their senses is inherently diverse and distinct. Since such measures are manifestations of coercive governance, their effects directly contradict the essence of ziran7. In this way, the ziran of the common people entails a plurality of sensory orders, rather than a rigid, imposed uniformity. Furthermore, individual differences in talent are also an integral aspect of their ziran, as the ruler’s practice of promoting those of superior ability (xian, 贤) operates under the principle of coercive action as well.

However, the ziran of the common people is not only evident in the intrinsic aspects of their lives, such as their natural endowments and sensory faculties. As a consequence of noncoercive action, it also manifests in the order that emerges in their concrete external lives, as Chapter 57 states:

The sages said, “I do things noncoercively (wuwei, 無為), and the common people develop their life themselves (zihua, 自化); I cherish equilibrium (haojing, 好靜), and the common people form order themselves (zizheng, 自正); I am non-interfering in our governance (wushi, 無事), and the common people prosper themselves (zifu, 自富), I have no excessive desire (wuyu, 無欲), and the common people are of themselves like unworked wood (zipu, 自樸).

(Ch. 57; Lou 1980, p. 280)

According to Roger T. Ames and Chikyu Tomohisa, the passage above elucidates the theoretical structure of noncoercive action and ziran by two sorts of expressions: the one is wu (noncoercive)-form expressions (Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 36–40), the other is the zi (self)-form expressions (Chikyu 2019, pp. 505–18). As outcomes of noncoercive action, the common people’s “developing their life themselves”, “forming order themselves”, and “prospering themselves” serve as concrete expressions of their ziran. Notably, these expressions refer to the external order of their lives, which is just as natural and inherent as their internal order. Thus, the external order of the common people’s lives constitutes the connotation of their ziran as well. It is also an essential aspect of their ziran. Furthermore, since the common people develop their lives in diverse ways, multiple external orders will naturally emerge. This aligns with the sage’s approach to noncoercive governance, as suggested in Chapter 80, where the sage is said to “bring the common people back to …… relish their food, to find beauty in their garments, to enjoy their customs and to find security in their homes” 甘其食，美其服，安其居，樂其俗 (Ch.80; Lou 1980, p. 345; Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 201–2).

3.2. The Orderly Continuous Transformation of Things as the Criteria of Their Ziran

In the preceding discussion, this paper has demonstrated that ziran signifies the inherent order of the common people’s lives. However, one may question why ziran necessarily implies order. After all, this interpretation does not immediately follow from the literal meaning of ziran, which refers to the “natural” and the “absence of external force”. A notable counterexample in pre-Qin intellectual history is Xunzi’s assertion that if left to develop on its own, the ziran of all people would inevitably lead to a state of social disorder (X. Wang 1988, p. 182; Hutton 2014, p. 87). Clearly, Xunzi’s understanding of ziran differs fundamentally from Laozi’s conception of the same idea. However, Xunzi’s interpretation seems to find support in Chapter 37 of the Daodejing, which states that “having developed their lives themselves (zihua, 自為), they[all things] desire to depart from this, I (the sage) would realign them with a nameless scrap of unworked wood” (Ch. 37; Lou 1980, pp. 90–91; Ames and Hall 2003, p. 134). This passage appears to suggest that all things inherently possess a desire to deviate from the external order of their lives. In light of this claim, Chikyu Tomohisa even argues that “developing their life themselves” (zihua, 自化), as a variant expression of ziran, contains an excessive and potentially dangerous aspect (Chikyu 2019, pp. 542–43).

Thus, it is necessary to clarify whether there is a boundary between the inherent orders of the common people and their desire to deviate from these orders, and whether the latter should be considered part of the connotation of ziran. To address these two questions, we must return to the broader context presented in Chapter 37:

The Dao always act noncoercively and there is nothing which it does not do. Were the nobles and kings able to preserve this, all things would be able to develop their lives themselves. having developed their lives themselves, they desire to depart from this, I would realign them with a nameless scrap of unworked wood. Realigned with this nameless scrap of unworked wood, they would leave off desiring. In not desiring, they would achieve equilibrium, and all the world would form order by itself.

(Ch.37; Lou 1980, pp. 90–91; see Ames and Hall 2003, p. 134)

As discussed above, scholars represented by Chikyu Tomohisa who perceive ziran as potentially disruptive or even dangerous do so largely because Laozi’s discussion of hua er yuzuo (化而欲作, [people] having developed their lives themselves, they desire to depart from this) does not explicitly emphasize the external inducements that provoke the common people’s desires, desires that lead to disorder and thus necessitate regulation. This omission seems to suggest that such disorderly desires are inherently present in all things from birth. If we interpret ziran purely in its literal sense, that is, the “absence from external force” and the “natural”, then disorderly desires would also fall within its conceptual scope. However, while this interpretation of ziran may seem plausible at first glance, a closer examination of Chapter 37 reveals that Laozi is not merely employing ziran in this formal sense. Rather, his nuanced use of its various forms suggests that he understands ziran in a more substantive sense, one that inherently includes an inherent order. This, in turn, calls into question the validity of Chikyu’s interpretation of ziran.

As stated in Chapter 37, the realization of all things developing their lives themselves (zihua, 自化) is premised on the ruler’s emulation of the Dao through noncoercive action, and once all things’ desires are regulated through the ruler’s practice of “realigning them with this nameless scrap of unworked wood”, they ultimately return to “the order formed by themselves” (zizheng, 自正), which constitutes a particular expression of ziran. At that time, if we recall that the order formed by all things themselves is realized in a state of “not desiring” and “equilibrium”, then the order formed by all things themselves” (zizheng, 自正) inherently excludes disorderly desires from the scope of ziran. Moreover, if we adopt the interpretative approach of Chapter 32, where Dao is described as “nameless scrap of unworked wood” (wumingpu, 無名樸) as well (Ch.32; Lou 1980, p. 81), then the ruler’s act of “realigning them with this nameless scrap of unworked wood” can be understood as the sage’s preservation of the Dao, that is, the ruler’s practice of noncoercive action. In this sense, noncoercive action entails the exclusion of disorderly desires from ziran, further indicating that ziran is fundamentally incompatible with such desires.

Here, it is important to note that the ziran should be understood as orderly desires instead of “absence of any desires” literally presented in Chapter 37. Laozi’s vision of an ideal society, in which the common people “relish their food, to find beauty in their garments, to enjoy their customs and to find security in their homes” (Ch.80; Lou 1980, p. 190; Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 201–202), suggests that he does not advocate for the complete eradication of desires. Rather, he envisions a form of desire that does not lead to disorder. In this way, ziran itself becomes a criterion for distinguishing reasonable desires from those that disrupt harmony.

Based on the above discussion, we can distinguish between two distinct meanings of ziran. The first is a purely formal definition, encompassing only the notions of “naturalness” and “absence of external force”. Under this definition, disorderly desires can be considered part of ziran. This interpretation aligns closely with Xunzi’s perspective, as he holds that the ziran of the common people will inevitably lead to a chaotic social order if left to its own development. The second meaning of ziran, however, builds upon the first while incorporating a more substantive dimension. In this interpretation, ziran is actualized through noncoercive action, which inherently excludes disorderly desires from its scope. In this sense, ziran functions as a normative standard for what constitutes orderly or reasonable desires. It is this understanding of ziran that the Daodejing endorses. Later Daoist thinkers, particularly Zhuangzi, inherited this understanding of ziran and made it explicit in the “sign of complete virtue” chapter of the Zhuangzi, where he states: “not allowing likes and dislikes to damage you internally, instead making it your constant practice to follow along with the way each is of itself by its spontaneous affirmations (ziran)” (Guo 2012, p. 220; Ziporyn 2020, p. 51). This formulation makes clear that ziran serves as a criterion for regulating desires such as “likes” and “dislikes”, reinforcing its role as a guiding principle for harmonious self-cultivation.

In this sense, the two meanings of ziran reflect two distinct perspectives in Laozi’s understanding of all things. When considered in terms of whether desires align with order, these perspectives correspond to the distinction between disorderly desires and those that conform to order. Moreover, both perspectives are indispensable to Laozi’s political thought. The existence of disorderly desires necessitates the role of the sage and his corresponding measures (such as “realigning them with this nameless scrap of unworked wood”). At the same time, ziran, in its narrower and more normative sense, serves as Laozi’s theoretical standard for critiquing coercive rule. Together, these two perspectives constitute Laozi’s comprehensive vision of the political world, balancing the need for guidance with the ideal of noncoercive governance.

Now, although we have established that disorderly desires do not fall within Laozi’s conception of ziran and have identified ziran as the criterion for evaluating whether desires are orderly or not, a more fundamental theoretical question arises: How should ziran itself be understood as a measure for determining whether desires conform to order? After all, if the boundary between ziran and excessive desires remains unclear, the sage would find himself ill-equipped to regulate disorderly desires and would even be unable to ascertain whether all things are in their state of ziran.

Given that the duty of the sage or ideal ruler is to enable all things to realize their own ziran rather than to alter it, the clarification of this boundary must extend beyond the political sphere, where the sage holds authority, and instead enter the ontological domain, which centers on the relationship between the Dao and all things. This shift in perspective is necessary because the sage’s practice of noncoercive governance, which facilitates the realization of ziran, is itself modeled on the Dao. Moreover, in an ontological sense, the ziran of all things is ultimately safeguarded by the Dao, as suggested by the statement that “the Dao follows ziran.” Thus, by examining the role of the Dao in relation to all things, we can uncover the deeper meaning of ziran.

Chapter 51, previously cited, already offers a clue to uncovering the meaning of ziran by stating the Dao’s continuous process of generating and nurturing all things. Those functional descriptions, “bringing them to their full growth”, “nursing them”, and “completing them”, illustrate the Dao’s enduring generative role in all things. Notably, this function of the Dao is not entirely synonymous with its role as the grounding principle of the various determinations or states of things. The latter emphasizes the Dao as the foundation of the diversity of things, thereby highlighting a spatial dimension. In contrast, the former underscores the continuity of the Dao’s generative and nurturing activity, thereby introducing a temporal aspect. Of course, since the Dao itself is without beginning or end and thus transcends time, this temporal dimension of the Dao’s generative activity is manifested in things themselves. Consequently, the Dao’s continuous process of generation takes the form of grounding the transformation of individual things across different states. Moreover, since this foundational function of the Dao is realized through noncoercive action, it follows that the continuous transformation of things across different states or determinations constitutes the essential meaning of ziran. This idea is implied in the following two passages:

The world is a sacred vessel, and is not something that can be ruled coercively. Those who would rule it coercively ruin it; those who would control it coercively it lose it. The course and nature of things are such that what was in front is now behind; what was warm is now freezing; what was strong is now weak; what was accumulating is now collapsing. Therefore, the sage puts away excessive effort, extravagance, and easy indulgence.

(Ch. 29; Lou 1980, p. 76; Legge 2008, p. 53).

A violent wind does not last for a whole morning; a sudden rain does not last for the whole day. To whom is it that these (two) things are owing? To heaven and earth. If Heaven and Earth cannot make such actions last long, how much less can man!

故(Ch. 23; Lou 1980, p. 57; Legge 2008, p. 43).

In Chapter 29, Laozi first highlights the drawbacks of coercive governance in ruling the world, thereby establishing the necessity of a noncoercive rule for the ideal ruler. This suggests that the subsequent discussion should be understood within the framework of Laozi’s political thought, specifically, the idea that the ruler helps the common people to achieve their ziran through his noncoercive action. In this context, the sage’s practice of “putting away excessive effort, extravagance, and easy indulgence” can be seen as a variant expression of noncoercive governance. At the same time, the discussion about “the course and nature of things” points to the ziran of all things, which is the aim and ideal outcome the sage’s governance seeks to achieve. Moreover, because “the course and nature of things” suggests that things are not static but instead exist in a continuous process of becoming, the concept of ziran necessarily incorporates transformation as an essential aspect of its meaning.

Moreover, the Dao’s continuous process of generation further defines the boundaries of transformation for all things, thereby determining the limits of their ziran. Since everything exists in a constant state of becoming, grounded in the Dao, any entity that clings to one state and fails to follow the natural course of change deviates from its ziran. This explains why Laozi asserts that the violent wind and sudden rain, though produced by heaven and earth, cannot last long, because such actions contradict their natural transformation. As stated in Chapter 7, the permanence of heaven and earth lies precisely in their not existing for themselves (Ch.7; Lou 1980, p. 19). This notion of “not living for themselves” not only negates any private or disorderly desire to preserve one state (such as the violent wind and sudden rain) but also serves as a variant expression of noncoercive action (X. Liu 2007, pp. 110–14). If we recall the principle that what is achieved through noncoercive action falls within the realm of ziran, then the ziran of heaven and earth can be understood as their very permanence, i.e., the perpetual transformation of their states. Any desire to cling to a fixed state would thus constitute a deviation from their ziran. In this light, the practice of “promoting those of superior ability,” which Laozi criticizes for causing social disorder, could be understood as a specific manifestation of the desire to fix a particular state. Recognizing this connection allows us to better understand why such desires are considered disorderly and are therefore excluded from the ziran of things.

Some scholars may challenge this interpretation by appealing to Chapter 39. A common reading of this chapter suggests that heaven and earth would perish if they did not respectively maintain their clear and stable states (Legge 2008, pp. 73–74; Ames and Hall 2003, pp. 137–38). This interpretation seems to imply that clarity and stability constitute the essential nature of heaven and earth, and that their continued existence depends on preserving these states. If this were the case, Chapter 39 would present a significant challenge to the present argument regarding ziran.

However, a reconsideration of this chapter’s context, along with an examination of the interpretations offered by two of the most renowned commentators on the Daodejing, Heshang Gong and Wang Bi, renders the common reading untenable. Instead, a more nuanced understanding of Chapter 39 further reinforces the present argument on ziran:

In the past, among those who attain the One (the Dao) were these: heaven attained the One and become clear; earth ttained the One and become stable……Following this line of thinking, if the heaven cling to be clear endlessly, it may well have fallen into pieces; if the earth cling to be stable endlessly, it may well have collapsed.

(Ch. 39; Han 2012, p. 175).

The opening of this chapter makes it clear that its focus is on the effects produced when things receive the One (the Dao). Evidently, the central issue is not a fixed state of things in itself, but rather a state of things grounded by the Dao. Within this context, the claim that heaven and earth must maintain certain fixed states to sustain themselves becomes untenable. Probably recognizing this point, both Heshang Gong and Wang Bi reject the common interpretation, emphasizing instead that “if the heaven desires to be clear endlessly, it will fall into pieces and destroy itself” 欲清明無已時，將恐分裂不為天 (K. Wang 1993, p. 155), and that “if the heaven preserve the clear state without the One, it will fall into pieces” 守一則清不失，用清則恐裂也 (Lou 1980, p. 106). Ivanhoe’s translation captures this principle accurately, as revealed by Heshang Gong and Wang Bi, stating that “if heaven lacked what made it pure, it might rip apart” (Ivanhoe 2003, p. 42).

Thus, Chapter 39 reinforces the idea that all things must not cling to a fixed state but should instead be grounded in the Dao. This grounding in the Dao ultimately means aligning with the Dao’s continuous process of generating and sustaining all things. In other words, it signifies a stable and ongoing transformation of things.

This very process serves as the ontological criterion for determining whether things’ desires are in harmony with order. If someone seeks to cling to a particular state, his or her desire is disorderly; conversely, if he or she follows the natural alternation of its states, his or her desire is in accordance with order. In this sense, when people regulate their desires in alignment with order, they conform to the ziran ensured by the Dao, thereby attaining their natural longevity. Conversely, resisting this natural order accelerates one’s demise. The sage governs precisely according to this principle, restraining the disorderly desires of the common people to help them live in stability and longevity, ultimately fostering enduring social harmony.

4. Conclusions

In conclusion, while ziran in the Daodejing appears to be related to both the Dao and all things, as well as to the ruler and the common people, a contextual analysis of this book reveals that the subject of ziran consistently refers to all things and the common people. Moreover, the realization of ziran for all things and the common people is predicated upon the noncoercive action of the Dao and the ruler.

Some scholars may challenge this interpretation by invoking the statement “Dao follows ziran”, arguing that if the Dao takes the ziran of all things as its guiding principle, it would undermine its status as the highest principle or foundation. However, if we consider that Laozi’s affirmation of the Dao’s greatness lies precisely in its ability to generate and sustain all things without asserting dominion over them (Ch.34)—a particular expression of noncoercive action—then the proposition that the Dao follows ziran aligns seamlessly with Laozi’s depiction of the Dao as “great” in the same chapter (Ch.25). This also implies that the ziran of all things is itself affirmed by the Dao. Furthermore, since the ideal ruler or sage governs by emulating the noncoercive action of the Dao, the ruler’s noncoercive action must likewise be guided by the ziran of the common people. Thus, attributing ziran to all things and the common people is justified both textually and theoretically.

Although the literal meaning of ziran is “natural” or “absence of external force,” Laozi redefines this term beyond its common meaning and endows it with a theoretical significance. Through the conceptual framework in which ziran is achieved through noncoercive action and is expressed variably as orders formed by things themselves (zizheng, 自正), he explicitly integrates the notion of order into ziran. The diverse entities in the world each possess their own distinct order, whether in their inner faculties and minds or in their external actions. Recognizing this, the sage can only help the common people and all things to realize their inherent order through noncoercive action while simultaneously restraining desires that lead them astray from this order. It is precisely this necessity of regulating disorderly desires that renders the existence of the ruler or sage indispensable.

Although certain statements in Chapter 37 may suggest that desires, which cause things to deviate from their natural order, arise without external interference and thus might appear to align with the literal meaning of ziran, this is not the ziran that Laozi employs in a theoretical sense. Rather, in Laozi’s philosophical framework, ziran explicitly excludes disorderly desires and serves as the criterion for determining whether desires conform to order.

As the standard for assessing the orderliness of desires, ziran in its theoretical sense must possess concrete content. Without such content, the sage would not only fail to correct the disorderly desires of the common people but would also be unable to discern whether someone is behaving in accordance with their ziran. Since ziran in a theoretical sense is grounded in the Dao, its content can be found in the Dao’s continuous and stable process of generating and sustaining all things, namely, the ongoing transformation of their states. If something clings to a particular state, such an attachment is disorderly and thus stands in opposition to its ziran. Conversely, if something allows its states to transform naturally without seeking to maintain a fixed condition, its desire aligns with order.

By understanding this theoretical conception of ziran, the sage is able to discern whether things are in accordance with their ziran and thereby rectify their disorderly desires, ultimately achieving a well-ordered sociopolitical system. After all, the attachment to a fixed state or condition is precisely what gives rise to conflict among things.