Dear students in the course of “foundations of morality”:
Among all thinking fallacies we have dealt with so far, the following one, I find, is particularly difficult for me to write about. This is the fallacy of bandwagon thinking, the one that forces people to think, learn and live their lives for the sake of the others, rather than thinking, learning, and being their own person for the sake of their own self.
I said this is difficult for me to write about because, in my life, I have been such a person who tries to think, learn and be myself for so long a time. It started from when I was about 15, when I was in the second grade of my high school, just two years before I entered the college. It was the first time in my life when the bizarre, boring, and unjust phenomena in the educational system of the country where I grew up strongly disillusioned me, and for virtually all my leisure time outside the school fence, I preoccupied myself with reading, thinking and writing in a very private style. But, normally, this sort of writings cannot be much useful for my academic score, and there is a Chinese idiom to call it “drawer literature,” since except tossing those pages into the bottom of one of my drawers and letting them stay there until perhaps disappearing, there is no space in the world for them to lie afoot. And these writings of mine did vanish a lot primarily because of the moving and dislocation of both my home and my person.
You may feel I am bragging myself since “thinking for yourself” is such a slogan frequently evoked by all people with their vastly different views to recruit their followers. This is a bit ironic, I know. But in the sense that I eventually felt the enormous reward of independent, free, and non-bandwagoned thinking, I am indeed proud of myself, and determined to continue to be so in the remaining parts of my life. However, as I said, it is still difficult for me to directly write about it.
Firstly, this is because once you took “thinking and being for yourself” as an ingrained, unshakable belief, you have almost nothing to write about it, since all things happening to your life, no matter whether they are themselves worth writing or not, are reflected by it, derive from it, and in the most authentic sense of the word, rooted in it. In other words, for people who have been habituated or even trained to do so, independent and free thinking can become a commonplace so banal barely worth mentioning. Seen from this perspective, everything I have written so far for the video lectures, and every exposure you witnessed to my personal life in this course, as well as all your wonderful contributions to my own thought, are all about it. Since all is about it, it emerges everywhere, and hence, I barely feel any need to capture it and write something particular about it.
However, I believe there is a deeper reason for me to feel the resistance from some corner of my heart to write something particular about it. Humans as a species are so inclined to jump into the fallacy of bandwagon thinking that as someone who is habituated not to do so, I have just encountered so many inconveniences (to say the least!) in my life, some of which were definitely depictable as personal traumas.
Let’s start one instance of those inconveniences which are less traumatic. You know I am a Confucian scholar, with “Confucian” here being understood both in the sense of critical scholarship and personal spiritual commitment (yes, for Confucian scholars, these two can blend seamlessly!). However, in 2014, I participated an international conference of Confucianism and philosophy of education organized by a university in the northeast of America. During the first, welcome dinner of the conference, I was so appalled by the fact that every speech, either from the organizers or from invited keynote speakers, and no matter how long or short the speech was, always started from a Confucius quote. Before these speakers said anything solid, they always let “Confucius once said … …” go first! And as a Confucian scholar, I could immediately realize whether that saying of Confucius’s was misquoted or misinterpreted; but the most disappointing aspect was that, due to its unaccountable shallow repetition, the Confucius quoting generated a formulaic and routinely bearing which wrapped the entire banquet with some gaudy certainty of something which everyone present was thought of as must take for granted. I was very unpleasant at that moment because although Confucian studies is a minority in the American academia, this formulaic pomposity still reminded me of how local units of a communist party organize their so-called “life of organization,” as well as every happenstance that George Orwell once so brilliantly described in the animal farm governed by the all-mighty Napoleon. Confucius in the Analects once taught “an exemplary human aims harmony without uniformity (和而不同), whereas a petty human aims uniformity without harmony.” Because of this, Confucius also says that an exemplary human is fond of being social, yet not of forming parties and cliques (群而不党). In other words, an authentic community comprises authentic persons, whereas for a community to become genuinely authentic, it must always contain a structural feature to accommodate diverse views, freshing people, and hence, an intrinsic vigor to grow and renew.
The remaining part of the conference was actually quite pleasant, since many scholars were doing their jobs, delivering great presentations, and discussing ideas. However, because of the distaste the beginning banquet of the conference begot, I was determined to avoid anything similar in my following years of my graduate studies in the U.S. I founded and organized the first student faith group of Confucianism in the U.S., titled as “Boston University Confucian Association,” when I studied in Boston during 2014-2018. I didn’t keep any email list of the so-called affiliates. I didn’t do any recruiting activities normal to many other registered religious groups. Instead, I deeply believed in the pedagogy of traditional Confucianism to urge “it is proper for students to come to learn, but not for teachers to go out to teach” (The Classic of Rites), and therefore, on every Friday night, I just bought pizzas, opened the door of the assigned study room by Marsh Chapel, and then, waited for anyone to come to learn and discuss. This “marketing” strategy didn’t make our group super large, but it didn’t make it super small either, since with generous donations from participants, we never lacked pizzas to eat for the weekly event.
Ok, this is the instance of inconveniences that one’s independent thinking can engender, which is less traumatic. I will briefly (and you know why it needs to be brief) describe another instance that is more so as follows.
Group thinking needs taboos, viz., topics that in-group affiliates cannot even mention, and this is because group thinking is based upon a certain form of exclusive identity, for the sake of which any intrusion from outside the boundary of the group needs to be censored. However, can you imagine taboos are also prevalent in philosophy classrooms? Philosophy classes are supposed to be the most open and free-spirited among all college classes; however, at the country where I grow up, there are taboos of topics hovering and looming around all my philosophy classes. Partly because of this, I decided not to teach there, and thus, to give up my well-secured jobs and leave the country when I entered my thirties. During those tumultuous days of my life, my daughter was also born, and at one moment, I suddenly realized that I may completely lose all previous means of abundance to support the basic material needs of my family, especially including my newly born baby. At that time, I did not have an American degree yet; my savings were being run out; and life was so uncertain and risky down the road that as a more or less intelligent Chinese boy growing up in a middle-class family in China, I had never anticipated my life can go so low.
The above story definitely has a happy ending; otherwise, I would not sit here and write to you, my dear students in the course of philosophical therapy at Washington College. However, the message I do want to convey is that we pay costs for escaping group thinking. Freedom cannot be in any sense taken as granted; it is always hard fought, and hard maintained.
But your question may be, since independent, free, and non-bandwagoned thinking is so difficult for individuals, on what basis do we human beings still long for it, strive for it, and even get trained to acquire it? My answer to this is very simple. No, this is the not the case. Once acquired as a habit, independent and free thought is actually the easiest way of life that humans can ever take for the sake of their good and happy human living, and this is primarily because it makes individuals’ life self-sufficient.
Let’s still use the classical philosophical writing, Plato’s allegory of cave, to make the case. Please just envision how difficult the life is for those chained prisoners in the cave. They compete for the thing everyone uniformly thinks worth competing, viz., to predict which shadow comes next on the wall of the cave; since the standard of success is so narrowly and unilaterally defined, you can also imagine how despondent people constantly feel if they lose the competition. Furthermore, for any of those prisoners who ever thought of the worth of their individual life, it is evident that the worth must rest upon the approval from other group members: you need to be joyful for the same thing, be sad for the same thing, and eventually, try to have a life lived by the same sort of people. Since there could be only one winner for each of this sort of competitions approved by a whole group, we can legitimately ask, can anyone chained in the cave be genuinely happy for their life?
However, if I was the lucky prisoner who happened to climb up the cave, just imagine how easy life could become for me. Firstly, knowing that those chained prisoners would see me as an enemy and try to kill me if I came back to tell them of the truth, I would not deliberately jeopardize my life as such. However, I did feel “sorry” for my chained human fellows, as Plato originally described it; so I would choose to occasionally go back to the cave, dwell after the wall separating the fire and those chained prisoners, to make whatever noise needed to inform them of the truth. But more than that, since I already acquired an ability to climb up whatever cave there is in the world and seek for enriching and inspiring light of wisdom, the majority time of my life would still be dedicated to exploring the wonderful and infinitely rich and diverse natural world and human history.
Using this hypothesized human situation of a freed prisoner, what I try to message is the indescribable ease and reward that one can get from the habit of non-bandwagoned thinking and living. In this situation, we say what we do, we do what we believe, and most importantly, we believe what we know is genuinely valuable for our own life and for the world. In other words, every component of our life, the words, deeds, emotions, thoughts and beliefs are lined up with each other, and all of them keep changing, growing and perfecting while aiming the flourishing of all conceivable human potentialities. In a Confucian term, this status of human being is called “self-contentedness”(自得, zide) acquired through an endless process of making our life genuinely “authentic” (誠, cheng). Keeping it in mind how self-content we can be after we are habituated to authentic human living, we will understand all those told difficulties are actually merely inconveniences that we can exert our willpower to eventually overcome during the process of fleeing bandwagon thinking. It is like the sore eyes felt by the released prisoner when he saw the origin of the light in the cave; yes, it is sore and painful, but definitely worth overcoming given how rewarding human life could be alternatively.
So, with an independent, authentic, and non-bandwagoned thinking habit, there would be no caves in our life. What we are longing for would be neither approval from others nor accomplishments measured by the standard of others. Instead, we would long for authentic human relationships, and valuable human projects from which we can learn from disagreements, grow ourselves through trials, and most importantly, “remain content towards ourselves in whatever situation we happen to enter” (無入不自得, wurubuzide; from the Centrality and Commonality).
Quiz:
1, “An exemplary human aims harmony without uniformity, whereas a petty human aims uniformity without harmony.” Is this a true Confucius quote?
2, According to the existentialist philosophy Heidegger, what feeling does one try to escape when he/she loses him/herself in the “they”?
A, angst of being “being-towards-death”
B, angry of being alone.
C, anxiety of not being accomplished.
3, what is the following proposition unique to the philosophy of existentialism?
A, existence precedes essence
B, essence precedes existence.
4, For the humanistic psychologist Carl Rogers, being congruent (which means that your inside matches your outside, and thus, to be transparent) is an important condition of constructive change and personal growth. Is this statement true or false?
