A few days ago I reposted and mocked Xi’s “shoe theory” on Weibo, and my dad got unsettled. He immediately called to warn me to be careful with what I said, so as to avoid settling accounts after the autumn harvest.
Generally speaking, it is rather awkward when the blogs and Weibo accounts of people born in the 1980s and 1990s come under the gaze of their parents, and I am no exception. Although my writing is addressed to anyone, and even if it is watched by parents and relatives it will not place any real pressure on me, it would be a lie to say that it causes no disturbance at all.
But the effect it produces is not necessarily repressive. Given my personality, parents’ reminders sometimes have the opposite effect; that is to say, the more they tell me not to say something, the more I want to say it. It’s not that I deliberately want to go against them. The situation is this: I had originally meant only to toss off a casual mockery, and one repost on Weibo would have been the end of it, but after this reminder, I found myself repeatedly thinking about the topic, and as a result I had even more to say. Since that is the case, I might as well write a special post about it on my blog.
Of course, my parents’ concern is understandable. After all, China’s previous generations, especially previous generations of intellectuals, have already gone through one round of “settling accounts after the autumn harvest” after another.
Generally speaking, I still side with reality; both verbally and in my heart, I do not support any drastic rebellious action, nor do I want to be the first bird out of the flock, rushing to the front to challenge the mainstream ideology. Or, to put it weakly, when facing any immediate conflict of the present, I would rather choose self-preservation. The mission of intellectuals was never to stand at the vanguard of the times. But on the other hand, the so-called “settling accounts after the autumn harvest” is indeed what we are looking forward to.
The reason one writes is to extend oneself beyond the space-time in which one lives, to carry one’s thoughts and achievements, one’s glory and dreams, into more distant times, where they may receive judgment. Words can remain a hundred years later, allowing posterity to evaluate oneself, allowing oneself to become the hero respected and looked up to by later generations; this is the highest pursuit one can have in the present world as a scholar or creator. But to think a bit more mundanely, before the “final verdict after death,” we of course also hope to receive the affirmation of our times while we are still alive. In any case, one’s own writing being ignored and forgotten is the thing an author least wants to see, and even if one’s work is scolded by the public, that is still better than being forgotten.
The question is not whether there will be settling accounts after the autumn harvest, but what kind of scene autumn will bring, and who exactly will be the one to settle my accounts?
Autumn might be the next campaign of political repression, with Maoists in power and nationalism running rampant; then my writing will of course become evidence of my crimes. But so what? If that really comes to pass, then since I am after all a stinking old intellectual who advocates freedom, even if I leave behind less writing, would it really be hard to find fault with me in the future? Rather than having to frame charges against me through informants, censorship, coerced confessions, and the like, it would be better if I simply provided them with ample evidence myself.
But autumn might also be a truly open and free era, and by then the present-day discourses of flattery and shameless praise will also be settled by history, nailed to the pillar of shame, and become material for later generations’ ridicule.
But if I only talk about scholarship, only talk about philosophy of science, and not about politics—especially if I keep away from current affairs—wouldn’t that be better? My scholarly writing would receive fair evaluation, and I would not have my weak point seized upon in political matters; wouldn’t that be the best of both worlds? Perhaps so—if my ideal were only to be an ordinary “senior scholar,” I could indeed do that. But my dream goes far beyond this.
As an intellectual, or even as an ordinary man, being interested in current affairs and politics is only natural, unless one is a cold, heartless, mechanically stupid person. My father included, speaking at the dinner table about current affairs and political issues is a habit and a pleasure of normal people. As Aristotle said: man (male) is an animal of the polis (politics). But my father can merely say such things without leaving any writing behind, whereas I cannot, because I am a man of letters, someone whose life is made up of writing; if I do not write, that is a kind of evasion. If my writing deliberately avoids this sort of content, then my writing will be insincere, incomplete, and fleshless. My “academic” writing may still receive recognition, but that comes at the cost of splitting my scholarship from my life; what is acknowledged will forever be only my academic texts, and no longer my life, my person. What I hope to leave behind in history is not merely an accidental name—appearing only as the author of certain scholarly works—but rather my hope is that what leaves its imprint on this age is my whole life, my entire history. Of course, this history has its public part and its private part; not all of my private life will appear in writing. But precisely in the case of political discussion and attitude, it cannot be merely private, because politics is publicness itself.
Back to the point, let me say a bit more about the shoe theory—“Whether shoes fit, only the wearer knows. Whether a country’s path of development is suitable or not, only the people of that country have the final say.”—This statement, like the cat theory, is plain and simple on the surface, but in fact it is not so simple at all; it involves many links, and each link is worth examining carefully:
1. Shoes:
What, after all, is a shoe? This is not entirely unambiguous. Judging from the Chinese character, shoe originally referred to leather goods, and it also seems to have been a new term in the medieval period; so do straw sandals, wooden clogs, and the like count as shoes? Then do socks count? There are some sturdy socks that one can wear and walk in the wild directly, and they clearly fit the shape of the foot more closely; do these count as shoes that fit? For a country, whether a development path counts as a legitimate path of development is also a question. For example, Germany’s path of development before Hitler—people were dissatisfied; after Hitler, people were excited, but this new path itself seems illegitimate. The question is, when it comes to what exactly counts as a shoe, whether the legitimacy of the shoe as shoe is also something only the shoe-wearer has the right to speak on? Or is it that, first of all, we still need to establish some axioms or rules of discourse?
2. Fit:
Fit includes two questions: what fits what? And what does “fit” mean?
2.1. Do the shoes fit the foot, or does the foot fit the shoes?
First, after all, do the shoes fit the foot, or does the foot fit the shoes? We all know the idiom “to mutilate one’s feet to fit the shoes”; if the shoes do not fit the feet, then reshape the feet and it will fit—can that be done? If a development route feels awkward, then let the people cooperate and adapt, “cut away” some dissenting speech, and thus achieve a result suitable for the people—can that be done? Moreover, if from the very beginning one restricts the free growth of the feet, as in foot-binding, then when in the end we ask whether a woman with bound feet finds the three-inch golden lotus comfortable or the normal shoe comfortable, she will probably choose the three-inch golden lotus without hesitation. But does that mean the three-inch golden lotus is the good shoe? Is fitting achieved through reshaping and restricting the feet appropriate? This seems inappropriate, but not absolutely so. In some cases, feet do indeed need to be “cut,” for example if there is a deformity; perhaps it is precisely through specially made shoes that correction is needed. Conversely, shoes that are too comfortable may actually be bad for the health of the feet. Even where there is no deformity, some shoes that are too comfortable may still not be suitable for the development of the foot—for instance, making a child wear thick, soft shoes for a long time may lead to flat feet. At such times, whether something fits or not is no longer the only thing that needs to be considered. So the question is, what kind of foot is normal, and what kind of foot needs correction? Who has the right to speak on that question? Perhaps doctors have more right to speak than I do—but who is qualified to be a doctor?
2.2. Fit must also fit the place
Second, what does “fit” mean? Just now we took it for granted that fit is equivalent to comfort in wearing, but in fact we wear shoes always in order to do something. If I lie on the bed doing nothing, then I do not need shoes at all. Therefore, whether shoes fit or not is not merely a matter of comfort in themselves, but also a matter of being judged according to “for what purpose.” If I am paralyzed in bed, I will never need shoes; if I merely walk around at home and never go out, then slippers are undoubtedly the most comfortable. But if I am going out and walking around, then I need specific shoes—for example, running shoes are suitable for running but not necessarily for mountain climbing; rain boots are suitable for wading through water but not for sunny days; cotton shoes are warm and comfortable in winter but not suitable for summer. At other times, we need to wear shoes such as leather shoes, high heels, ballet shoes, and so on—shoes that are not comfortable in themselves, but are more beautiful, proper, or effective in specific settings. In short, whether shoes fit has not only to do with the foot itself, but also with where the foot is active. So if my living range is restricted—for instance, if I am deprived of freedom and locked up at home, and all I do all day is move around at home—then for me, slippers are obviously the most fitting shoes. But the very shoes that fit so well also limit many possibilities for me to range freely; the complacent me may then simply stay home and think no change necessary. But is that a good thing?
3. Wearing:
To say that the wearer has the final say is in fact not quite accurate. In fact, it should be the person who has “worn” this shoe who has the final say. If a pair of shoes has been on my feet from childhood to adulthood, then I actually have no right to say whether it fits or not, because I simply do not know what other possibilities exist. Sometimes I may feel awkward, but just as my own feet sometimes make me feel awkward, generally speaking I would not say that my feet do not fit my feet—unless I had several pairs of feet to alternate between, only then would I be qualified to say that one pair of feet is not suitable and another pair is more useful. Now, if I have not worn any other shoes, or even cannot take off this pair at all, then I have no right to say whether this pair is good or bad. If I walk two miles in these shoes and my feet hurt, does that prove these shoes are bad? Perhaps my constitution is simply poor. Only if I have worn another pair of shoes, walked twenty miles without my feet hurting, can I then look back and say that the previous pair did not fit. In other words, unless I have the ability to choose, how can I possibly have the right to speak? On the other hand, even if I have some experience, I still may not arrive at the right judgment. For example, if I have worn iron shoes, bronze shoes, and broken straw sandals, then my conclusion may be that broken straw sandals fit best; but if these experiences are nothing more than the narrow vision of a frog at the bottom of a well, then my conclusion is likely to be childish.
4. Knowing:
What does it mean to know? Here, “knowing” seems to be not merely an improvised feeling, but some result obtained through rational analysis, reflection, and inference. For example, if I walk and feel pain in my feet, that sensation of “pain” itself does not mean that I already know the shoes do not fit; rather, my mind must reflect on these experiences, compare other possibilities, and rule out interfering factors—I have foot pain not because I have a corn on the sole, not because I fell down, but because the shoes do not fit—only after a series of reflections can I “know.” That is to say, in order to know whether shoes fit, what is needed is not only to have worn them, but also to have thought about them; I must already have been trained in sound abilities of rational analysis and of doubt and discrimination. At the same time, this rational capacity may provide some inferential power beyond immediate spontaneous feeling. For instance, if I wear this size-33 pair of shoes and feel they are a little tight, then even if I have never worn size-34 shoes, I may still “know” that the same model in size 34 would fit better than this size-33 pair. At the same time, if I have sufficient understanding of the structure or function of shoes, I can also observe and induct from how other people wear shoes, compare my foot shape and movement habits with theirs, and analyze what kind of shoes suit me. Of course, others can also help me with this kind of analysis; for instance, if I encounter a beggar who has only ever worn rag shoes, I will very likely understand better than he himself how to choose a better pair of shoes. Even if he himself has ample freedom and can try on every new shoe in an entire department store, my pointing and gesturing from the side may still be helpful. In particular, after getting used to one kind of shoe, suddenly switching to a new pair may require an adjustment period; at first there may even be discomfort, awkwardness, or pain, and one has to walk a few more steps and then flexibly adjust the tightness of the laces, and only slowly will things get onto the right track. And during this adjustment period, if one considers only the “feeling” of whether it fits and does not rely on rational analysis or on confidence gained from others, one may resist any change right from the start.
5. Speaking
Knowing is matched with the right to speak, but knowing and speaking are not yet the same thing. Sometimes one’s own affairs do not in fact require one’s own speaking. As in the earlier example, when I choose shoes, I am sometimes very willing to listen to others’ opinions as a reference, but I myself, on the contrary, would not speak—if these shoes are bad, just take them off and try another pair. Rational analysis and inductive judgment are precisely the kind of things that are better offered from the standpoint of an observer; this is what “objective” means. And what I myself “express” is in fact mostly nothing more than some subjective opinions and practical actions. As the saying goes, “voting with one’s feet”: many wealthy people said little, quietly took off their Chinese shoes and changed into American shoes; those without money also said nothing, gazing eagerly at America’s green shoes, hoping their children would put them on. Are these not all expressions of attitude? Of course there are also those who wear what fits well, but they often run about happily on their own and are not very likely to spend all day speaking in praise. As for those who want to speak, many times it is only a stream of complaining murmurs, and then we think these voices are not rational, not mainstream, and not worth paying attention to.
In short, the shoe theory is a very good theme; it reminds us that we must do these series of things well:
1. Correct names: if names are not correct, speech will not go smoothly; defining concepts and establishing rules are the foundation of legitimacy;
2. Pursue and thoroughly reflect on what it means for a foot to be a foot, and on the significance of shoes;
3. Provide enough room for choice;
4. Enlightenment education, cultivating sound rationality;
5. Tolerate, and squarely face, the expression of opinion through voting with one’s feet.
Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.
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