VOLUME III, SEMESTER 4, CHAPTER 51
Five Tastes Blending in Harmony: Missing One Fails to Form a World
Walking to this point in this semester, eleven chapters have all been completed: the four scales have been established, "Four Co-s" has been explained thoroughly, the three paths of check and balance have been counted through, the layer up top has been pushed out, and the soil down below has been reached. This chapter adds no new matter, doing something else instead: taking a unified look at those items already laid out upon the table, to see what they ultimately look like when gathered in one place. Gathering requires a method, and this chapter borrows that ancient soup of the ancestors.
Section 1, Explaining That Passage of Yanzi From the Beginning
Tell that passage of Yanzi from the beginning. That ruler of Qi returned from hunting and said that among the whole court above and below, only Liangqiu Ju was in harmony with him; Yanzi replied that it was not harmony, but merely identity. He then spoke of blending soup: water, fire, vinegar, meat sauce, salt, and plum are all added; as the fire burns, the cook stands beside watching, adding a bit when bland, diluting a bit when strong, supplying what is lacking and venting what is in excess. If one dilutes water with water, who could eat it; if lute and zither play a single tone, who could listen to it?
Three layers reside inside this passage: tastes must be complete, tastes must balance each other, and tastes must not merge into a single taste. Matching the four scales against these three layers aligns layer by layer: all four matters are real, so not a single one can be removed; drawing away one causes the remaining three to sicken; and all four scales remain individually complete without being watered down.
Two more lines must be remembered: what ruins matters is never a single taste, but a single taste taking up too much room; on this diagram there are no bad things, only good things placed in the wrong spot. And this soup requires someone watching and seasoning it—there is no single day when seasoning is finished.
Section 2, Hanging This Diagram Back Upon a Human Life
Hang this diagram back upon a human life. For the first three years output is zero, and what measures him is that scale that asks not of contribution; during those dozen-plus years of schooling, what nurtures him is a large portion of that ownerless yield; at twenty-two the scale measuring him changes, and he and the side bearing risk contend over the exact same pancake baked together; from his thirties upward he is a master looking down and a servant looking up, with a mortgage nailing him down while his housing fund provides capital for another factory floor; in his forties he perhaps strikes that gap, with three hands extended toward him; in his sixties the pension he receives is what those currently going to work are paying today.
Outside this single line sit two more layers: the layer up top gives rules, arbitration, and that table, while that patch of soil down below gives human willingness. Three layers plus four scales gather to form a place where a person can live on. Living on requires only three conditions: those who exert effort have a fair outcome, those unable to exert effort have a place of refuge, and those wishing to do something different have a path. These three conditions are precisely what the four scales look like upon a person, and missing any single one allows tracing backward to find which scale encountered trouble.
Yet this is no perfect diagram: boundaries must be revised year by year, and walls will grow year by year—it is a pot of soup still sitting over the fire. This is no flaw, but its living form; what truly ought to be worried about is never fierce quarreling, but suddenly falling silent.
Section 3, Unpacking That Opening Line of This Semester
Unpack that opening line of this semester: missing one fails to form a world, fails to form a system, and fails to form proper order. This is not saying one line three times, but three matters, each deeper than the last.
Failing to form a world speaks of people: missing one item leaves some unable to carry on—the infant, the elderly, that forty-year-old weaver, and that person unable to walk away. Failing to form a systemspeaks of matters: the four scales are several gears locked into each other, and missing one causes the others to spin empty—spinning loudly while driving nothing. Failing to form proper order speaks of standards: when those willing to exert effort, keep contracts, and speak the truth suffer losses, those few lines fail to stand firm year by year; until finally, while rules remain on paper, that scale inside human hearts is gone, and handling matters no longer asks whether one ought to, but merely whether one will be caught. The first two lines can still be saved by adding a sum of money or altering a rule, but once the third line breaks, it takes a whole generation to carve and polish it back.
Finally, this entire diagram closes upon those six words of Confucius: The superior person seeks harmony, not identity. Harmony requires three conditions: being individually complete, keeping to one's own boundary, and having someone willing to keep them; these three conditions were established chapter by chapter across this semester.
This chapter also establishes two rules of conduct: this diagram passes no judgment on superiority, with no ranking among the four scales—especially when closing the diagram, where ranking is easily slipped in, so it must be guarded strictly; nor does this diagram make promises—from beginning to end this semester addresses what has already happened and what is currently happening, while as to where these four scales will walk hereafter, that is beyond the position of this volume.
The diagram is joined together, yet this volume has not yet closed. The next chapter is the final chapter of this volume and the closing mark for all four semesters: where should that portion of unclear origin ultimately belong, and when all four scales are placed in position, who draws that boundary? Having addressed up to this point, this volume ought to be handed upward—handed over to Volume IV, Political Systems, and handed over to that word holding up everything.
Table of Contents for This Chapter
Section 1: A Single Taste Dominating Leads to Ruin; Five Tastes Blending in Harmony Form a Soup
Section 2: Four Scales Joined Together Form a World Where People Can Live On
Section 3: Missing One Fails to Form a World, Fails to Form a System, and Fails to Form Proper Order
Credit to the ancestors; the mistakes are mine: Tiger Lyon.
Section 1: A Single Taste Dominating Leads to Ruin; Five Tastes Blending in Harmony Form a Soup