VOLUME III, SEMESTER 4, CHAPTER 48, SECTION 1
Material Things Come First, This Sequence Bears No Exception
Through the previous eight chapters, the eye has rested strictly on the layer down below: how the four scales run across a single general ledger, how they hang on a single person, how they hold up a lifetime, how they coexist, generate together, live together, and share together, and how they push against one another so that not a single one grows into a sole ruler. From this chapter onward, raise the eye a notch higher, to ask a new question: as the layer down below runs in this manner, what kind of upper structure is pushed out on top?
That upper layer refers to laws and decrees, rules, societal tone, and sayings—what a place honors, what it taboos, what it counts as decent and honorable, and what it counts as shameful. This chapter speaks of the relationship between that layer down below and that layer up top: who supports whom, and who in turn pulls whom back. Yet to speak of this relationship, that lowest sequence must first be set firm, and this section sets it first.
One, look first at a person's sequence in a single day
Return to that thirty-eight-year-old person. The things he does in a single day have been counted several times in earlier chapters; here count them once more from another angle, looking strictly at order. Before daybreak, he boils porridge, sets out medicine, and helps his mother sit up first; at eight-thirty, he clocks in at work first, finishing those few tasks in hand; on the tenth of every month, he pays off that sum on time first. These few items are ranked right at the front, not because they are the most weightiest or most interesting, but because they must be done or things collapse.
Reasoning, dignity, ambition, and what kind of person one wishes to be in the future—where are these items ranked? They are ranked behind these few items. It is not that he does not care for them—in his heart he wishes to speak of them more than anyone; it is that the sequence is such. If the porridge is not boiled and the medicine not fed, his mother's side cannot hold; if the wage is not earned, that sum on the tenth of next month cannot be accounted for.
So there is a line that sounds very unpleasing, yet no one can refute: a person with an empty stomach cannot hear reason. This is not to say his character is poor, nor that he is unwilling to listen. It is that at this moment his entire self is occupied by that matter that must be done, leaving no empty space in his mind, so other things cannot squeeze in.
Two, look next at a factory's sequence
The exact same sequence, moving the lens from a person to a factory, is seen even clearer. In years of good business at that chair factory, rules were kept most properly: inspections came process by process, not a single defective product was allowed to mingle out, night shifts carried overtime pay, master craftsmen had a separate allowance for taking apprentices, and at the end of the year there was a review of who worked most steadily that year. That factory's tone of willingness to care and be earnest was precisely built up bit by bit in those few years.
Yet if order slips suddenly snapped one year and wages were delayed for two months, what was the very first thing to crumble? Not the machines—the machines were still fine; what crumbled was that set of rules. Defective items began to be passed with one eye closed, that inspection process was gradually saved, promised allowances were owed first, and the promised year-end review was mentioned by no one anymore. The people remained the exact same people; those who kept rules yesterday began to settle today.
This was not this single factory being uniquely lacking. With any undertaking, once money snaps, the first things to drop are always those that are not immediately fatal, yet show decency most—and they drop without a sound. When rules are kept most properly, it is mostly precisely when the accounts are most ample.
So in a factory, that set of refinement grows out of the ledger. When the ledger is thick, that set can grow; when the ledger is thin, it dies first.
This layer can also be looked at in reverse. Whether that boss is willing to spend an extra process to build goods solid, or willing to give the master craftsman that allowance for taking apprentices, mostly depends not on whether he as a person is generous, but first on whether his ledger is ample that year. The same person looks one way in two years of abundance, and another way in a tight year, without even noticing it himself. This is not to make excuses for anyone, but to lay out the position: how much refinement a person can preserve bears a greater relation to whether the ground beneath his feet is solid than to anything else.
Three, a region's sequence was spoken by the ancestors two thousand seven hundred years ago
Pulling the lens further back, from a factory to a region, this sequence remains the exact same sequence. When a famine arrives, the grain store opens and rice is distributed, and the people's mind settles first; once the people's mind is settled and their feet stand firm, only then can courtesy, yielding, rules, and honor be spoken of. If the grain store is empty, even the most refined places cannot preserve that refinement: people begin to rob on the roads, doors must take an extra lock, and the two most friendly neighbor families in ordinary times can turn hostile over half a bag of rice.
This matter was spoken to the very end two thousand seven hundred years ago in twelve characters. Guan Zhong managed state affairs in the state of Qi, managing precisely the most solid matters like money, grain, soldiers, and horses; the very opening chapter of his book carries a line: When the grain stores are full, they know rules and manners; when food and clothing are sufficient, they know honor and shame.
Grain stores full means the granaries are filled; food and clothing sufficient means what is worn and eaten is enough. These two are in front, while knowing rules and manners and knowing honor and shame are behind. He did not say granaries matter more than rules and manners, nor that rules and manners are optional; what he spoke of was strictly sequence: only with the former present can the latter grow out.
Four, this sequence speaks of order, not high or low
Here a line heard most easily wrongly must be held off at once: that material things come first does not mean material things matter most, nor that a person who keeps rules and manners is inferior to a person who hoards grain. The first semester set a rule directly facing this place: reading differences in position as differences in personal character is the most common move of false virtue. Material things ranked in front is position; whether a person bears moral character is another matter entirely. The two matters are not on the same line at all, and measuring that line with this line will surely yield errors.
In fact, it must be said in reverse. Precisely because this sequence is true, those who still preserve rules and manners in days when grain stores are not full are exceptionally worthy of respect. That person who divided his last half-bag of rice with a neighbor in a year of famine did not have a full grain store, yet he preserved rules and manners; what he performed was precisely the hardest thing beneath this sequence. He did not bypass this sequence; beneath this sequence, he did an extra thing that he could originally have chosen not to do.
So what this section sets is not a final verdict, but a sequence. Sequence speaks of order, while a verdict speaks of good or bad, and the two cannot be mixed. Mixed together, this sequence becomes a line of looking down on people, which is entirely not what the ancestors meant.
This measure will still be used in later chapters. Whenever encountering a matter, ask first whether the ground beneath this person's feet is solid, and then ask whether what he did is right—the sequence cannot be inverted. Inverted, what is asked out is mostly a label; asked according to this sequence, what is asked out is what truly ought to be changed. Chapter forty-two spoke of that shame, where an elderly person who could no longer move measured himself with a scale for prime years; that too was a shape of this line being used in reverse.
Five, sequence inverted brings chaos on both ends
With this sequence set firm, two common shapes of inversion can be examined followingly. The first kind demands that the item ranked behind come out first: while the grain store is still empty, demand that people speak of rules first; while wages are still owed, demand that people speak of dedication first; while a person can barely hold up himself, demand that he consider the overall situation first. If it cannot be demanded out, say he knows no shame, lacks awareness, or is selfish. This is just taking the wrong scale spoken of in chapter forty: placing a matter ranked behind into the front to measure.
The second kind of inversion is even more concealed: thinking that once the grain stores are full, rules and manners will follow naturally. Once granaries are filled and days grow good, societal tone will surely grow good along with it. This line sounds smooth and logical, and how many people believe it all their lives; yet it too is incorrect, and it is precisely the layer that this entire chapter will disassemble later.
These two kinds of inversions—one raises what is behind to the front, and the other takes what is in front as the whole. The former harms people, while the latter delays matters. To divide them clearly, this sequence itself must first be set firm, which is what this section does.
These two kinds of inversions also share a common origin: both use a line of truth past its boundary. That material things come first is true; used past its boundary, it becomes recognizing only material things and speaking of nothing else. That refinement matters is also true; used past its boundary, it becomes ignoring whether there is rice left in others' granaries while demanding that they perform all rules and manners complete. Chapter forty-five spoke of bounds, which back then meant the bounds among the four scales; here is another bound, the bound of a line of truth itself. A line spoken up to where it governs remains true; stepping one step further forward, it begins to harm people.
Six, what this section sets firm
What this section sets firm is one line: material things come first, and this sequence bears no exception; yet it speaks of sequence, not high or low, let alone a final verdict. A person's day, a factory's year, and a region's year of famine all walk the exact same sequence: those few matters that must be done are ranked in front, while refinement and decency are ranked behind. Guan Zhong spoke it to the end in those twelve characters: When the grain stores are full, they know rules and manners; when food and clothing are sufficient, they know honor and shame.
Inverted, two kinds of chaos arise: one demands that people perform all rules and manners complete while the grain store is still empty, and the other thinks that once the grain store is full, rules and manners will come of themselves. Setting this sequence firm is for the next section. The next section looks at a plain-spoken line from over a hundred years ago, which spoke of this exact same sequence very clearly and spread very far. We shall acknowledge its merit, and following it, point out where this sequence came from.
Credit to the ancestors; the mistakes are mine: Tiger Lyon.