Why Chinese philosophy still matters

Bio: Daniel A. Bell is Professor, Chair of Political Theory with the School of Governance and Policy at the University of Hong Kong. He served as Dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration at Shandong University from 2017 to 2022. His books include Why Ancient Chinese Political Thought Matters (2026), The Dean of Shandong (2023) and others. He is founding editor of the Princeton-China series (Princeton University Press) which translates and publishes original and influential academic works from China. In 2018, he was awarded the Huilin Prize and was honored as a “Cultural Leader” by the World Economic Forum. In 2024, he was elected Vice-President of the International Confucian Association.

Ancient Chinese philosophy continues to shape how China thinks about politics, society and its place in the world, argues political theorist Daniel A. Bell. In this conversation with CKGSB Knowledge, Bell discusses the enduring influence of Confucianism and Legalism, the strengths and weaknesses of political meritocracy, and why understanding concepts such as junzi, tianxia and harmony can help outsiders better understand modern China.

Q. Western discussion of China today tends to focus heavily on economics and geopolitics. Why is traditional Chinese philosophy also important to understanding the country?

There are three reasons. First, it is great philosophy, and this is not well known in the West.

When I studied political theory as an undergraduate at McGill University in Canada, we learned nothing about Chinese philosophy. We did courses that we called “Plato to NATO.”

But if you look at the Chinese classics, they are as deep and philosophically interesting, and the debates are as diverse, as anything that was going on in ancient Greece at the time. It is not just Confucianism, but also Legalism, Taoism and Mohism. These emerged as the four main schools of Chinese thought before China was unified by the first emperor, Qin Shi Huang, in 221 BCE.

Second, these debates were tremendously influential throughout Chinese history. They set the terms for much of the subsequent debate and informed many of the values that shaped or helped justify policies. If you want to understand Chinese history, you have to understand these debates.

Third, if you want to understand China today, you also have to understand how these debates continue to shape the way Chinese intellectuals, leaders and, to some extent, businesspeople think. When I was at Schwarzman College in Beijing, which aims to train future leaders, we argued that the first thing you need in order to understand China is an understanding of the basic ideas that inform its current way of thinking. Many debates from the pre-Qin period still set the terms for debates today.

Q. Which schools of traditional thought remain the most influential in China today?

If you are studying politics, Confucianism and Legalism are the two main schools. Take the anti-corruption campaign. Marxism does not have much to offer in explaining the underlying debate, and neither does liberalism. But the debates between Confucians and Legalists more than 2,200 years ago are strikingly similar to debates in China today about the best way to reduce corruption.

Should we rely on harsh punishment that makes people fearful, or should we try to transform people’s hearts, as the Confucians would say, so that they are less inclined to be corrupt even when the opportunity presents itself?

In everyday and family life, Confucianism is obviously the main traditional value system. Values such as filial piety, or xiao in Chinese, are still very influential.

But for groups such as artists or people who are dropping out of the rat race—what today might be called “lying flat”—Taoism offers rich ideas about how to lead a carefree and meaningful life outside the mainstream.

The Mohists are less directly influential because Mohist thinkers largely faded from view after China was unified in 221 BCE. But their ideas about impartiality in governance had a huge influence on both Legalists and Confucians. If you are looking for philosophical resources for thinking about impartiality in everyday life or the business world, Mohism is an obvious place to look, although the connection is less direct than with the other three schools.

Q. Chinese leaders frequently reference traditional concepts such as harmony and virtue. How much do these ideas genuinely influence policymaking, rather than simply serving as political rhetoric?

I am not saying that these schools of thought directly determine policy or provide the sole explanation for it. But they often set the terms of debate.

You can see that in areas such as anti-corruption, family law or debates about whether the state’s first obligation should be providing for people’s material welfare or whether it should also spend money on music and the arts. Ancient debates still help frame these questions.

At the same time, more recent traditions—including Marxism, liberalism to some extent, feminism and Christianity—are also hugely influential. And sometimes values play almost no role whatsoever in policymaking.

Traditional ideas are always there in the background, but sometimes their influence is very difficult to trace. In my work, I focus on particular issues where I think these debates remain influential. I am not arguing that they explain everything.

Q. You have written extensively about political meritocracy. What strengths and weaknesses do you see in this model compared with Western electoral democracy?

The basic idea of political meritocracy is that the political system should aim to select and promote public officials with above-average ability and virtue. Confucians and Mohists care about both ability and virtue, whereas Legalists focus on ability rather than virtue.

That ideal has run throughout Chinese history and has been institutionalized in different ways, most famously through the imperial examination system. More recently, the idea of examinations has been revived in the selection of public officials, and officials are also supposed to prove their merit at lower levels of government before being promoted.

There is, of course, a big gap between the ideal and reality. But one advantage is that political leaders have experience. You will not get somebody near the top of the chain of command with zero political experience, so they are less likely to make beginners’ mistakes.

Another advantage is the ability to take a long-term perspective. On an issue such as climate change, China could plan over 10, 20 or 30 years without leaders constantly worrying about being elected or thrown out of office after four or five years. Leaders can consider the interests of future generations, and even non-citizens, in ways that can be difficult in a democratic process where politicians owe their obligations first and foremost to voters. They also do not have to spend as much time campaigning, repeating speeches or raising money and can instead focus on solving problems.

The disadvantages include the question of how to limit abuses of power. Political meritocracy should involve equal opportunity at the beginning, followed by the selection of people who demonstrate above-average merit. But if political hierarchies become frozen and it becomes difficult for outsiders to enter the system, that undermines the principle of equal opportunity.

There is also the question of legitimacy among people outside the power structure. In an electoral democracy, everybody has a vote and therefore feels, however indirectly, that they can make a difference. That is why I have argued that political meritocracy works best when there are significant opportunities for democratic participation at lower levels of government, including village elections.

Q. Could the Chinese model of political meritocracy be adopted by other countries?

It would be difficult because it is deeply rooted in Chinese political culture. The ideal has existed for more than 2,200 years and has been institutionalized in different forms throughout that period.

It also requires a hugely complex bureaucratic system. Elections can, in principle, be introduced relatively easily: people vote and the votes are counted every few years. Political meritocracy requires institutions capable of assessing, selecting and promoting officials across a complex bureaucracy.

China’s size is another factor. There are different levels of government and different ways of selecting leaders at those levels. At lower levels there can be more democracy; at the top there is more political meritocracy; and in between there is considerable experimentation.

That is difficult to export, particularly to smaller countries. Singapore has done a reasonably good job of implementing a form of political meritocracy, but as an overall model it is difficult to export, and China does not really try to do so.

There are, however, aspects that other countries can learn from. The best way for China to encourage that is to set a good example at home and demonstrate that the system can be both effective and morally desirable. Other countries can then learn from whichever elements they find useful.

Q. Some scholars argue that the traditional concept of Tianxia remains important to Chinese thinking about international relations. How relevant is it today?

As a global model, Tianxia does not seem to have much appeal outside China and perhaps East Asia. But if you think of it as a way of organizing relations within East Asia, particularly among countries with a Confucian heritage, it begins to make more sense.

The basic idea is a form of hierarchy, but one that is supposed to be morally desirable. In other words, the system should work in the interests of both the larger, more powerful country and the weaker countries. It is supposed to be a win-win situation, which is also reflected in some official rhetoric today.

If China were recognized as the main power in East Asia but conducted its relations with smaller countries in a mutually beneficial way, based not only on common interests but also common values—for example, a shared Confucian heritage—then that could represent a modernized form of Tianxia. I think it is more plausible as a regional model than a global one.

Q. Sun Tzu’s The Art of War has become a popular reference in business and strategy. What other Chinese thinkers or works deserve greater attention?

If you are in the business world and deal with public officials, it is important to understand both Legalist and Confucian traditions because they form part of the mindset and set the terms for many issues and debates.

Again, anti-corruption is a good example. Throughout Chinese history, leaders have struggled with how to reduce corruption. When corruption became completely out of control, whether during the Ming or Qing dynasties, it was one important factor contributing to political decline. These historical debates help underpin the way the issue is understood today.

For somebody interested in political theory, I would strongly recommend Xunzi. Xunzi is the third great thinker of pre-Qin Confucianism, and his work is, in my view, just as important as Plato’s Republic. He incorporated ideas from Taoism, Legalism and Mohism, as well as different strands of the Confucian tradition, to create a beautiful, systematic and clearly written body of work.

He is not as famous or popular as Confucius or Mencius, but I think his work is just as great, if not greater.

For people doing business in China, there is also the importance of establishing trust over the long term. That requires demonstrating a genuine and sincere interest in China, and particularly showing that you have a sense of history. Having some understanding of these great works from China’s past can therefore be valuable.

Q. The Confucian concept of junzi is sometimes translated as “exemplary person.” How can this concept help us understand leadership in China today?

The basic ideal is that you should not be motivated solely by your own interests. You should also consider the needs and interests of others.

The contrast is with xiaoren, usually translated as a “petty person.” But it is not really an either-or distinction. It is more of a spectrum. Even Confucius himself did not claim fully to embody the ideal of the junzi.

It is therefore better understood as a standard or ideal that people should aspire to. That ideal continues to inform public officials, educators, intellectuals and some people in the business world, even while recognizing that it is extremely difficult to achieve.

Q. What aspects of Chinese political or business culture do outsiders most often overlook?

One is the importance of ritual. There is a fantastic chapter in Xunzi about ritual as a way of generating a sense of community.

I am from Canada, where we are not particularly keen on ritual. We often think of “empty ritual” as something people go through without really meaning it. When I graduated from university, for example, I did not bother attending the graduation ceremony. I thought, what is the point?

But having read Xunzi and been influenced more generally by the Confucian idea of ritual, I now think these practices can be very important for generating a sense of community, harmony between people and continuity between generations.

The following chapter in Xunzi discusses music and the arts, and how ritual needs to be combined with beautiful music to generate a sense of community and bonding.

When I served as a dean at Shandong University, there were endless rituals that might have seemed pointless had I not understood this background. The same is true in the Chinese business world: banquets, drinking toasts, where people sit and other formalities can initially seem strange. But if you understand Confucian thinking about ritual, they make much more sense.

Q. What advice would you give businesses, politicians or others seeking to engage more effectively with China?

Spend a long time listening before trying to judge or impose your own views. Only then can you move toward productive engagement with China.

In the West, there can be a missionary impulse. We might assume, for example, that democracy is the only legitimate or desirable form of government and that everything else can simply be categorized as authoritarian and therefore bad.

You need to set aside those prejudices and views and spend time listening and trying to understand how people in China think. Then you can engage in a more productive way.

For me, frankly, that process took more than a year. It took much longer. It is easier said than done, but that would be my advice.

Q. As China’s global role continues to grow, which Chinese philosophical ideas could become more influential internationally?

One of the central ideas is harmony, or he in Chinese. At the opening ceremony of the 2008 Beijing Olympics, a Chinese character was selected to represent the best of Chinese culture, and he was the one chosen.

But harmony is often misunderstood in English. In politics, it can sound vaguely sinister, as though harmony means suppressing disagreement. The Confucian ideal is actually very different.

One of the best-known sayings from the Analects is junzi he er bu tong: exemplary persons value harmony rather than sameness or conformity.

The basic idea is that pluralism and difference should not merely be tolerated but celebrated as something beautiful and potentially morally uplifting. The question is how we deal with those differences peacefully and in a way that generates something better than the individual parts.

Ancient texts often explain this using cooking metaphors. One bland ingredient makes a boring soup, but many different ingredients can make something delicious. Music works similarly: one note is boring, but many different notes can produce something harmonious and beautiful.

The political implications are also clear. Ancient Confucians recognized the need for different voices. If there is only one voice among ministers, or in the relationship between ministers and rulers, mistakes will not be exposed and new ideas will not emerge.

Internationally, the ideal would be a world of very different countries that nevertheless cooperate, learn from one another and even celebrate those differences while remaining competitive. Perhaps in English we should translate the concept as “diversity and harmony” for it to gain greater traction.

Q. As China becomes more confident on the global stage, how do you expect its relationship with the rest of the world to develop?

It is difficult to be optimistic about US-China relations. The relationship has become intensely competitive, and in the US there appears to be a broad consensus that China is a competitor and perhaps even an enemy. It is difficult to see that changing in the foreseeable future unless there is a major crisis—whether climate change, rogue AI or a very serious pandemic—that creates an obvious need for global cooperation.

But there may be more opportunities with other countries. I am from Canada, for example, and as the US becomes a less predictable power, that creates opportunities for other parts of the world, including the Western world, to develop better relations with China.

So it is not simply about China’s relations with the Global South. I think what we might call the non-US West could also find opportunities for more productive engagement with China in the future.

This interview reflects the interviewee’s interpretation of Chinese political and business culture and does not represent the official views of CKGSB or its editorial team.