The Difference Between Me and Dogmatism or Relativism—Please Pay Attention to the Basis of All My Arguments

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6,902 characters2005.12.20

Just by reading those essays I’ve posted on my blog, one might feel that I have a tendency toward dogmatism. I admit that my writing is indeed apt to give rise to the misunderstanding that I am dogmatic and overestimate my own abilities; in fact, I myself became aware of this feeling, and that is what gave rise to the lament in the previous post about arrogance and humility.

But I am fundamentally different from dogmatists, especially those so-called “folk philosophers”! To understand this, first do not forget the basis on which I proceed in any discussion—I never hope to persuade others; while firmly believing in my own views, I also acknowledge other, different, even opposing views. I believe that different people, starting from different points of departure, using different methods of argumentation, and guided by different value orientations, can arrive at completely different yet equally “reasonable” conclusions on the same issue! What I hold is a pluralist, or rather perspectival, view of truth. Please keep this in mind, and then come to understand what my words are trying to express.

What, then, is the difference between pluralism or perspectivalism and dogmatism? — Dogmatists firmly believe that they themselves are reasonable, while others’ opposing views are unreasonable; and I too firmly believe that I am reasonable. On this point I am not very different from dogmatists. I too insist on my own views, strive to revise my arguments, and never willingly admit fault! But the latter part is the crucial difference: dogmatists know only how to expound their own views, and do not know how to accept and include others’ opinions, whereas I, while firmly believing that I am reasonable, acknowledge that different opinions can be equally reasonable, and I believe that those classmates, seniors, teachers, philosophers, and so on who have read more than I have and thought more than I have about problems, must have thoughts that are more complete, more rigorous, and more profound than mine! Just as I never readily admit fault, I never readily deny others’ views, and therefore I value the exchange and collision of opinions—such collision, of course, must not aim at suppressing or standing above the other party, but neither should one be ambiguous or equivocal about one’s own views. When listening to the teachings and writings of seniors and sages, one must of course first try one’s best to reduce one’s own prejudices, but one must not simply echo whatever others say.

The difference between relativism and me is even more obvious. I acknowledge that different people may have different opinions that are all simultaneously reasonable, but relativism exaggerates this point infinitely. They believe that since different people can have different views, and since no one ought to aim at persuading the other party, then what is there left for everyone to discuss? You mind your own business, I’ll mind mine. Relativism completely denies the existence of truth, denies the meaning of discussion, and denies the value of instruction! But I believe that although exchange—including the teachings of teachers, elders, and sages to younger generations—should not aim at persuading the other party to accept one’s own views, exchange is nevertheless meaningful, and instruction is worth listening to. For I am only saying that under different evidence, different methods of argumentation, and different attitudes—in other words, under different perspectives—there can be different conclusions that are simultaneously reasonable; but one can absolutely not say that any arbitrary opinion can be reasonable. If your evidence is self-contradictory, your method of argumentation full of loopholes, and your intellectual attitude confused and chaotic, then your conclusion is of course unreasonable. Yet people often do not know in what respects their own thinking is imperfect or immature. We only believe that our views are immature, but do not know exactly where they are immature; this is why I must humbly listen to others’ opinions and bravely throw myself into exchange and debate. Even when listening to the sages I admire most, it is not because I want my own thoughts to be completely identical with their opinions, but only because I want to use their mature and profound thinking to inspire and point me toward insight. And when discussing my own opinions with others, it is also not in order to use my own views to persuade them, but because I hope that in sorting out and expressing my views, I can further clarify and strengthen my train of thought. After all, what is thought and what is spoken, and what is spoken and what is written, are vastly different; and if I can receive the other person’s guidance, or if my argumentation can help the other person clarify his own views, that is an additional gain.

Some people say that certain of my essays read as though they have a strong smell of gunpowder, with an aggressive and confrontational tone. That is because I did not write those pieces as academic papers, and strictly speaking they can scarcely even be called essays; rather, they are like language from my speeches or conversations directly transcribed into written form. In other words, these essays of mine still remain at the stage of “being spoken,” or perhaps even merely “being thought” (see the article “Knowing—Thinking—Speaking—Writing—Doing”); they are just laying my views out in the open, equivalent to lighting the fuse for discussion. I must show confidence right at the outset of the discussion, so that I can defend and supplement my initial views step by step. Although in fact there are many things I know very little about myself—such as Kant’s thought. I really have not read much of Kant’s original works—but from the scattered bits of writing I have read, I have felt Kant’s greatness, and therefore I am willing to defend Kant. If others raise opposing views, I can further strengthen my reading, cite more widely, and continually respond to objections against Kant as I understand him; for example, in the case of Confucian and Mencian teachings, Marx, and some other views that I think deserve defense—such as “science and religion are harmonious,” “the tendency toward goodness and shame toward evil are human nature,” “science is not omnipotent,” “human beings should not stand above nature,” and so on—I may not have read many books or thought very deeply, but first I establish a strong confidence in these views; first I think they are worth defending, and then I can advance and unfold my argument step by step, consolidating my foundation step by step. While defending the views that I first firmly believe in, debate can make my position little by little more solid. Of course, for some views on which one is still unsure, it is also quite important to take a “suspended judgment” attitude; but one also cannot withhold judgment on every opinion. If one must wait until one has accumulated enough knowledge before being able to form a judgment, then where exactly is the boundary of this “enough”? There is always more text to read, more knowledge to learn, more questions to think through. We are now in a stage of learning, so when exactly do we leave this stage? We never do! We are learners all our lives, so when exactly can we “form a judgment”? I think that when I develop a strong resonance with certain views, so much so that I feel they are worth defending with all my strength, then I can make a judgment. Even though there is still much I do not understand and many questions I have not yet thought of, I can defend while deepening my understanding. The process of expending all one’s effort to defend a certain view, compared with drifting aimlessly and without a goal through the world of knowledge, can more efficiently absorb knowledge and deepen thought. Of course, one must never forget my most basic premise—I do not deny different opinions; I clearly recognize that my own views are still very superficial and immature—I obviously cannot state this premise anew every time I write a short piece or every time I express my views, but it is the most basic premise.

December 20, 2005

Translated from the Chinese original with AI assistance. The original text is authoritative.

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