Chapter Two: General Thesis on "Obscuration" — The Dao Embodies Constancy and Encompasses All Change

Section 1: The Philosophical Content of "The Dao Embodies Constancy and Encompasses All Change"

After criticizing the respective obscurations of Master Mo, Master Song, Master Shen Dao, Master Shen Buhai, Master Hui, and Master Zhuang, Master Xun offers a summative judgment:

"All these several doctrines are but single corners of the Dao. The Dao embodies constancy and encompasses all change; a single corner is not sufficient to apprehend it" (Ci shu ju zhe, jie dao zhi yi yu ye. Fu dao zhe ti chang er jin bian, yi yu bu zu yi ju zhi).

These two sentences are the pivot of the entire passage and the core proposition of Master Xun's theory of the Dao. Let us analyze them word by word.

"All these several doctrines" (ci shu ju zhe) — "these" refers to the doctrines described above; "several" denotes their plurality; "ju" is a variant of "ju" (俱, all). Together: "these several doctrines."

"Are but single corners of the Dao" (jie dao zhi yi yu ye) — "Yu" (隅) means a corner. The Analects (Shu Er) records: "If I raise one corner and a student cannot come back with the other three, I do not continue the lesson" (Ju yi yu bu yi san yu fan, ze bu fu ye). Here the Master uses the very word "yu." A square room has four corners; if you see only one corner and assume the entire room looks that way, you are gravely mistaken. Master Xun says that each school's doctrine is "a single corner of the Dao," meaning each has seen only one corner, one facet, of the Dao.

But here lies a key question: why does each school see only "one corner" and not the whole$20 This requires understanding Master Xun's characterization of the essential nature of the Dao.

"The Dao embodies constancy and encompasses all change" (fu dao zhe ti chang er jin bian) — This statement is extraordinarily precise and requires layer-by-layer analysis.

First, "embodies constancy" (ti chang). "Ti" means essence, foundation. "Chang" means constant, unchanging. "Ti chang" says that the essence of the Dao is constant and unchanging. This resonates powerfully with the Laozi. The Most High (Laozi) said: "There is a thing formed in chaos, born before heaven and earth. Silent and void, standing alone and unchanging, circling without cease, it may be called the mother of all under heaven" (Laozi, Chapter 25). "Standing alone and unchanging" (du li er bu gai) is precisely "embodying constancy." Again: "The Dao that can be spoken of is not the constant Dao" (Dao ke dao, fei chang dao; Laozi, Chapter 1). The "constant" (chang) in "constant Dao" likewise echoes the "constancy" Master Xun speaks of. For the Dao to be the Dao, it must possess an unchanging, fundamental nature; otherwise it would not be the Dao.

Yet if the Dao were only "constant" — merely unchanging — it would be something static and lifeless, incapable of accounting for the kaleidoscopic changes of the real world. Therefore Master Xun immediately adds "encompasses all change" (jin bian).

"Encompasses all change." "Jin" means to exhaust, to cover everything. "Bian" means change, transformation. "Jin bian" says that the manifestation of the Dao covers all change whatsoever. Heaven and earth and the myriad things, the succession of human affairs, the waxing and waning of yin and yang, the cycle of the four seasons — all change falls within the scope of the Dao. The Dao is not only unchanging; it is simultaneously the source and destination of all change.

This forms a remarkably subtle dialectical structure: the Dao is at once "constant" (unchanging) and "encompassing all change." Constancy and change are unified at the level of the Dao.

This unity of constancy and change has deep roots in pre-Qin texts.

The Xi Ci Shang (Appended Statements, Part I, of the Book of Changes) says: "One yin and one yang — this is called the Dao" (Yi yin yi yang zhi wei dao). The alternation of yin and yang is the manifest form of the Dao; yet the pattern of "one yin and one yang" itself is constant and unchanging. Herein constancy resides within change, and change is contained within constancy.

Again, the Xi Ci Shang says: "Change has the Supreme Ultimate (taiji), which gives birth to the Two Modes (liangyi); the Two Modes give birth to the Four Images (si xiang); the Four Images give birth to the Eight Trigrams (ba gua)." The Supreme Ultimate is the essence of the Dao — it is constant; yet from it arise the Two Modes, the Four Images, and the Eight Trigrams, from which all things proliferate — this is "encompassing all change."

The Laozi, Chapter 42, says: "The Dao gives birth to the One; the One gives birth to the Two; the Two gives birth to the Three; the Three gives birth to the myriad things." The Dao is the root of the One, and the myriad things are the unfolding of the Dao. From the Dao to the myriad things is the passage from "constancy" to "change"; yet since all things are born of the Dao and the Dao is present within all things, change returns again to constancy — this is "encompassing all change" without departing from "embodying constancy."

Understanding "embodying constancy and encompassing all change," we can now see why each school grasped only "one corner." The aspect of the Dao that "embodies constancy" manifests as certain unchanging principles — the principle of "utility," the principle of "law," the principle of "heaven," and so on. Each school seized upon one such constant principle and took it for the whole of the Dao. But they overlooked the aspect of the Dao that "encompasses all change" — the Dao's manifestation exhausts all possible changes, and it never appears in only a single guise. Clinging to the principle of "utility" alone, one cannot understand the changes of "cultural refinement"; clinging to the principle of "heaven" alone, one cannot understand the changes of "the human."

It is like observing water. Water is liquid at normal temperature, solid when cold, and vapor when hot. If a person has only ever seen liquid water and therefore believes water is always liquid, he has seen only "one corner of water." The essential nature of water ("embodying constancy") does not change, yet its manifest forms ("encompassing all change") are various. To seize on one form and declare "this is the entirety of water" is "obscuration."

Returning to the pre-Qin intellectual context, we can further echo Master Xun's "embodying constancy and encompassing all change" with another passage from the Laozi:

"The greatest square has no corners; the greatest vessel is slow to complete; the greatest music has the faintest sound; the greatest form has no shape; the Dao is hidden and nameless" (Laozi, Chapter 41).

"The greatest square has no corners" (da fang wu yu) — is this not the perfect gloss on Master Xun's critique of "one-corner" views$21 The Dao, as the "greatest square," has no "corners" — it is perfectly round and whole, indivisible into separate corners. Yet the various schools insist on cutting out a "corner" from the Dao and taking it for the whole. The Most High (Laozi) says "the greatest square has no corners"; Master Xun says "a single corner is not sufficient to apprehend it" — the two echo each other across the ages, jointly revealing the wholeness and indivisibility of the Dao.

We cannot help but press the question: if the Dao is "embodying constancy and encompassing all change" in its wholeness, is it possible for human beings to cognize it completely$22 Or is human cognition inherently limited, fated to see only "one corner"$23

Master Xun's answer to this is optimistic and firm: human beings can cognize the whole of the Dao. The key to this answer lies in his proposed cognitive method of "emptiness, unity, and stillness" (xu yi er jing). This method frees the mind from existing biases and thus enables it to penetrate the whole of the Dao. The Master's being "benevolent and wise and moreover unobscured" owes precisely to his embodiment of this cognitive state.

Section 2: "A Single Corner Is Not Sufficient to Apprehend It" — The Dialectic of Wholeness and Partiality

"A single corner is not sufficient to apprehend it" (yi yu bu zu yi ju zhi) — a statement worth savoring again and again. "Ju" (举) means to lift up, to reveal, to grasp. One "corner" cannot "lift up" the entire Dao — just as one corner cannot support an entire roof, one pillar cannot hold up an entire hall.

Here, however, a subtle intellectual distinction needs to be drawn. When Master Xun says that each school's doctrine is "a single corner of the Dao," he implies that these doctrines are not wholly false — they are, after all, "corners of the Dao," touching upon some real aspect of it. If they had nothing whatsoever to do with the Dao, they would not be called "obscured" — for having never touched the Dao, there would be nothing to be obscured by. Precisely because they touch upon a genuine facet of the Dao and have made real discoveries within that facet, they gain the capital to "take it as sufficient" and the motivation to "embellish it."

This is a common phenomenon in everyday life. A person who knows nothing at all about a subject is usually not self-satisfied; rather, it is those who have some knowledge and some insight into a subject who are most prone to complacency. The Master said: "To know what you know and to know what you do not know — that is true knowledge" (Zhi zhi wei zhi zhi, bu zhi wei bu zhi, shi zhi ye; Analects, Wei Zheng). This statement is commonly understood as teaching honesty, but from the perspective of "dispelling obscuration," it carries a deeper meaning: true wisdom lies in knowing clearly what one knows and what one does not know, without mistaking the known portion for the whole.

The Laozi, Chapter 71, says: "To know yet think oneself ignorant — this is the highest; to be ignorant yet think oneself knowing — this is sickness" (Zhi bu zhi, shang yi; bu zhi zhi, bing ye). This is consonant with the Master's saying. "To know yet think oneself ignorant" — to know that one has areas of ignorance — is the highest wisdom; "to be ignorant yet think oneself knowing" — to not know that one does not truly know — is sickness. The obscuration of the Hundred Schools is precisely this "sickness" of which the Most High (Laozi) speaks — they do not know that their knowledge is incomplete, and instead believe they already know everything.

Why, then, is the view from "one corner" so beguiling$24 Why do people so easily mistake "one corner" for the whole$25

This relates to the inherent nature of human cognition. In other passages of the "Jiebi" chapter, Master Xun provides a thorough analysis. He notes that the human mind has two tendencies: first, "desire obscures" — desire clouds reason; second, "partiality obscures" — partial knowledge covers over comprehensive cognition. The former belongs to the emotional plane of interference; the latter to the cognitive plane of limitation. The obscuration of the Hundred Schools belongs primarily to the latter — the cognitive limitation of "people of partial knowledge."

"Partial" (qu) means bent, not straight, and by extension narrow, incomplete. "Partial knowledge" (qu zhi) is fragmentary knowledge, narrow insight. Why does fragmentary knowledge become a cognitive obstacle$26 Because when a person accumulates rich knowledge and experience in a particular area, they form a self-consistent mode of thinking and explanatory framework. This framework works very effectively within its domain of expertise, but when the person tries to apply this same framework to explain all phenomena, serious distortions arise.

Take Master Mo as an example. Starting from the perspective of "utility" (yong), he built a thought system centered on practical use. This system was highly effective in explaining economic production, technological development, and social organization — indeed, "usefulness" is an important standard for assessing the value of things. But when Master Mo tried to use "useful or useless" to judge everything (including ritual, music, literature, funerary rites), his framework proved inadequate. For some things derive their value not from direct practical function but from cultural transmission, emotional expression, and social cohesion — values that the "utility" framework cannot fully encompass. Yet because his framework of "utility" genuinely worked within its proper domain, he developed a kind of "cognitive inertia," assuming this framework could explain everything. This is "taking it to be sufficient and embellishing it."

Returning to the pre-Qin context, we can illustrate this with a classic analogy from the Zhuangzi (Qiu Shui, "Autumn Floods"):

"One cannot speak of the ocean to a frog in a well — it is confined by its space. One cannot speak of ice to a summer insect — it is bound by its season. One cannot speak of the Dao to a person of narrow learning — it is shackled by its teaching" (Jing wa bu ke yi yu yu hai zhe, ju yu xu ye; xia chong bu ke yi yu yu bing zhe, du yu shi ye; qu shi bu ke yi yu yu dao zhe, shu yu jiao ye).

This passage echoes Master Xun's theory of obscuration. "The well-frog confined by its space" — the frog in the well is constrained by its limited space, sees only the circle of sky at the top of the well, and assumes that is the extent of the sky. "The summer insect bound by its season" — the insect of summer is constrained by its limited lifespan, has never experienced winter, and assumes ice does not exist. "The narrow scholar shackled by its teaching" — the person of partial learning is constrained by the education they have received, has learned only one school's doctrine, and assumes the Dao is just that.

Of these three metaphors, "the narrow scholar shackled by its teaching" most precisely describes the obscuration Master Xun discusses. The scholars of the Hundred Schools each received the educational training of their own school and within that training developed particular modes of thought. These modes of thought are both the tools with which they cognize the Dao and the obstacles that obscure them from cognizing the Dao in its entirety. Tool and obstacle are one and the same — what a profound paradox!

Yet did Master Zhuang himself realize that this passage could be turned back upon himself$27 Master Zhuang built his thought system around "heaven" (tian), using the perspective of "heaven" to view all human affairs, and thereby transcending many worldly biases. Yet when he overemphasized the perspective of "heaven," he himself became a special kind of "narrow scholar" — shackled by the perspective of "heaven" to the point of neglecting the independent value of the "human" perspective. This is precisely Master Xun's criticism: "Master Zhuang was obscured by heaven and did not know the human."

Here we observe a fascinating intellectual interaction: Master Zhuang himself proposed the insight that "the narrow scholar is shackled by his teaching," yet he himself was not entirely free from this shackling; Master Xun then used Master Zhuang's own analytical framework to critique Master Zhuang in turn. This "using his own spear against his own shield" in intellectual history demonstrates precisely the universal applicability of Master Xun's theory of "dispelling obscuration" — it applies impartially to all thinkers, including the most profound.

Section 3: The Cognitive Predicament of "People of Partial Knowledge" and the Way Out

After his general thesis that "the Dao embodies constancy and encompasses all change," Master Xun immediately describes the cognitive predicament of "people of partial knowledge":

"People of partial knowledge observe but one corner of the Dao and fail to recognize it for what it is. Therefore they take it to be sufficient and embellish it; inwardly they confuse themselves, outwardly they mislead others; those above obscure those below, and those below obscure those above — this is the calamity of obscuration and blockage" (Qu zhi zhi ren, guan yu dao zhi yi yu, er wei zhi neng shi ye. Gu yi wei zu er shi zhi, nei yi zi luan, wai yi huo ren, shang yi bi xia, xia yi bi shang, ci bi se zhi huo ye).

This passage advances layer by layer, revealing the cascading spread of obscuration from personal cognition to social and political realms. Let us analyze each layer.

Layer One: "They observe but one corner of the Dao and fail to recognize it for what it is."

"Observe but one corner of the Dao" — they have seen one corner of the Dao. "And fail to recognize it for what it is" — yet they fail to recognize that what they have seen is merely one corner. Note: Master Xun says "fail to recognize" (wei zhi neng shi), not "fail to see" (wei zhi neng jian). They have already "observed," already "seen" one corner of the Dao; the problem lies not in seeing but in recognizing — they cannot discern that what they see is merely one corner. They "observe" but do not "recognize"; they "see" but are not "clear-sighted" — this is where obscuration begins.

Why does this "observing without recognizing" occur$28 This involves the distinction between "observing" (guan) and "recognizing" (shi). "Observing" is an activity of the perceptual level — the eyes see, the ears hear, the mind touches upon something. "Recognizing" is an activity of the reflective level — examining one's own perception and judging whether it is complete or partial, accurate or distorted. "People of partial knowledge" have the capacity to "observe" but lack the capacity to "recognize" — they can grasp one facet of the Dao but cannot reflect upon the limitations of that grasp.

This phenomenon of "observing without recognizing" finds its profound reflection in the wisdom of the Book of Changes. The Image text of Guan (Contemplation) hexagram says: "Wind moves over the earth: Contemplation. The ancient kings thus inspected the regions and observed the people to establish their teaching." The core spirit of the Guan hexagram is "observation" — but not passive, partial observation; rather, comprehensive, systematic observation ("inspecting the regions" — surveying all four directions). Observing only one direction without surveying all four yields only a "one-corner" view. The six lines of the Guan hexagram, from bottom to top, display progressive levels of observation: the first six is "childish contemplation," the second is "peeping contemplation" (observing through a door crack), the third is "contemplating the course of my life to advance or withdraw," the fourth is "contemplating the light of the state," the fifth is "contemplating my life" (the self-examination of the exemplary person), and the top nine is "contemplating their life" (comprehensive observation transcending the self). One might say that "people of partial knowledge" are at roughly the level of "peeping contemplation" or "childish contemplation" — their scope of observation is limited and they lack the capacity for self-reflection. Only by reaching the level of "contemplating my life" or even "contemplating their life" can one transcend the obscuration of "one corner."

Layer Two: "Therefore they take it to be sufficient and embellish it."

"Take it to be sufficient" — they believe what they have seen is already enough, already covers the whole of the Dao. "Embellish it" — they then adorn and beautify their bias.

The word "embellish" (shi) is crucial here. As noted above, "embellishing" is the concealment and beautification of defects. But at a deeper level, "embellishing" also implies an active, conscious behavior — "people of partial knowledge" are not merely passively obscured by a one-corner view but actively reinforce and strengthen that bias. They build theoretical systems, develop methods of argument, collect favorable evidence, and cultivate followers — all of which are concrete expressions of "embellishment."

This "embellishing" behavior makes the bias more entrenched and harder to break. A simple error is easily corrected, but an error that has been carefully argued and systematically constructed is exceedingly difficult to correct — because an entire self-consistent discourse system has formed around it. To overturn the error requires simultaneously overturning the entire discourse system, which for someone situated within it is nearly impossible.

The Most High (Laozi) said: "Sincere words are not beautiful; beautiful words are not sincere" (Xin yan bu mei, mei yan bu xin; Laozi, Chapter 81). What "embellishment" produces is precisely "beautiful words" — carefully polished statements that sound appealing and seem reasonable but conceal the truth. Conversely, true "sincere words" — an honest admission that one has seen only one corner of the Dao — are often "not beautiful," not as appealing or systematic, but closer to the truth.

Layer Three: "Inwardly they confuse themselves."

This is the first consequence of obscuration at the personal level. "Inwardly they confuse themselves" — they create confusion within their own minds. Why does bias lead to inner confusion$29

Because the real world is complex, while the explanatory framework provided by bias is simple. When a person uses a simple framework to explain complex reality, they inevitably encounter phenomena that the framework cannot explain. These unexplainable phenomena give rise to confusion and anxiety within. Yet because they have already "taken it to be sufficient and embellished it," they will not admit that their framework is flawed, and instead adopt various psychological defense mechanisms to protect their bias — ignoring unfavorable evidence, distorting its meaning, or attacking those who present it. These defense mechanisms themselves cause inner division and confusion.

The hexagram statement of Meng (Youthful Folly) in the Book of Changes reads: "Meng is blessed with success. It is not I who seek the young fool; the young fool seeks me. At the first oracle I inform him. If he asks two or three times, it is importunity; if he importunes, I give no information." This hexagram addresses the way of ignorance and enlightenment. If the ignorant person seeks instruction with sincerity, enlightenment can be achieved; if the attitude is disrespectful ("asking two or three times"), instruction cannot proceed. The problem with "people of partial knowledge" is precisely that they are not "Meng" — not people of complete ignorance — but people who "believe they already know." The completely ignorant know they need to learn and are therefore teachable; those who believe they already know see no need for learning and are therefore the hardest to teach. This state of "believing one already knows" is itself a deep form of "inner confusion."

Layer Four: "Outwardly they mislead others."

Obscuration not only creates self-confusion but spreads outward to mislead others. "People of partial knowledge" package their biases as truth and disseminate them, causing others to adopt these biases as well.

The word "mislead" (huo) deserves reflection. The Master said: "At forty I was no longer deluded" (Si shi er bu huo; Analects, Wei Zheng). To be free of delusion means not being misled by external things. But why are ordinary people misled by "people of partial knowledge"$30 Because their biases have been carefully "embellished" and appear very reasonable, very systematic. Ordinary people lack sufficient judgment to distinguish such embellished bias from genuinely comprehensive knowledge, and so they are misled.

More seriously, those who are misled go on to mislead others in turn, and so, layer by layer, bias spreads like a plague. The Analects (Yang Huo) records the Master saying: "I detest purple for usurping the place of vermilion; I detest the tunes of Zheng for corrupting proper music; I detest the glib-tongued for overturning states and families." Purple looks similar to vermilion but is actually a mixed color; the tunes of Zheng sound similar to proper music but are actually licentious; the words of the glib-tongued sound similar to correct discourse but are actually specious. The biases of "people of partial knowledge" can "mislead others" precisely because they bear some resemblance to the Dao — they are, after all, "one corner of the Dao," possessing certain features of the Dao — and thus counterfeit truth convincingly.

Layer Five: "Those above obscure those below, and those below obscure those above."

This is the consequence of obscuration at the political level, and the most severe consequence of all. "Those above obscure those below" — superiors, blinded by their own biases, impose those biases on subordinates. "Those below obscure those above" — subordinates, blinded by their own biases, filter and distort information reported to superiors.

This speaks directly to the problem of information distortion in political governance. The first requirement of sound government is free and accurate communication between upper and lower levels. If a ruler is blinded by bias, he cannot correctly understand conditions below and cannot make correct decisions; if subordinates are blinded by bias, they cannot truthfully report upward and cannot correctly execute the ruler's decisions. When upper and lower levels mutually obscure each other, governance is completely paralyzed and state administration collapses.

In the Book of Documents (Gao Yao Mo), Gao Yao admonished the Great Yu: "Heaven's hearing and intelligence come from our people's hearing and intelligence; heaven's awe and majesty come from our people's awe and majesty." The Son of Heaven's wisdom derives from the people's wisdom — that is, from accurate understanding of conditions among the people. If "those above obscure those below," the ruler is cut off from true information from the people, and his wisdom has no source.

Again, the Book of Documents (Da Yu Mo) says: "The human mind is precarious; the mind of the Dao is subtle. Be discriminating, be single-minded; hold fast to the Mean" (Ren xin wei wei, dao xin wei wei, wei jing wei yi, yun zhi jue zhong). This famous "sixteen-character instruction of the mind" resonates deeply with Master Xun's theory of "dispelling obscuration." "The human mind is precarious" — the human mind is dangerous, prone to bias. "The mind of the Dao is subtle" — the Dao-mind is elusive, hard to grasp. Precisely for this reason, one needs "to be discriminating, to be single-minded" — pure and focused, not led astray by bias — and "to hold fast to the Mean" — sincerely maintaining the middle way. The word "Mean" (zhong) is precisely the remedy for the obscuration of "one corner." The Mean is impartial, not clinging to one end — it is the very state of "unobscured vision."

Layer Six: "This is the calamity of obscuration and blockage."

"Obscuration and blockage" (bi se) — "obscuration" and "blockage" placed side by side. "Obscuration" prevents one from seeing; "blockage" prevents information from flowing. Together they constitute a comprehensive cognitive closure and information severance. "Calamity" (huo) — Master Xun ultimately characterizes "obscuration" as "calamity" — a grave disaster. The word "calamity" is no understatement. In the pre-Qin context, "calamity" stands opposed to "blessing" (fu) and concerns matters of national survival and personal life and death. Master Xun closes this passage with "calamity" and describes the Master's unobscured vision as "blessing," showing the extreme gravity he assigns to the problem of obscuration.

From all this we see that the problem of obscuration is by no means a purely academic matter — it concerns not only whether an individual's cognition is correct but the stability of society, the clarity of government, and the rise and fall of states. The obscuration of the Hundred Schools is not merely academic partiality but political peril — for once a ruler adopts one school's bias as governing strategy, the political consequences are grave.

In the late Warring States period in which Master Xun lived, this "calamity of obscuration and blockage" had already produced many horrifying historical lessons. The various states undertook reforms for strength, some employing Legalist doctrines (as Shang Yang in Qin), others employing the strategies of the Diplomatists (as Su Qin and Zhang Yi among the states), each clinging to one end and applying it, with successes and failures alike. Master Xun observed these historical experiences, felt acutely the danger of one-corner views, and therefore formulated his theory of "dispelling obscuration," striving to lay an epistemological foundation for an impartial way of governing.

Section 4: The Structure and Logic of the Six Schools' Obscurations

Before proceeding to a detailed analysis of each of the six schools, we should first examine the overall structure and internal logic of Master Xun's arrangement.

The six obscurations Master Xun identifies are, in order:

1. Master Mo — obscured by utility (yong) and did not know cultural refinement (wen)
2. Master Song — obscured by desire (yu) and did not know legitimate acquisition (de)
3. Master Shen Dao — obscured by law (fa) and did not know worthiness (xian)
4. Master Shen Buhai — obscured by positional power (shi) and did not know wisdom (zhi)
5. Master Hui — obscured by rhetoric (ci) and did not know substance (shi)
6. Master Zhuang — obscured by heaven (tian) and did not know the human (ren)

Each of the six schools has one concept representing what obscures it (utility, desire, law, power, rhetoric, heaven) and one concept representing what it fails to know (cultural refinement, acquisition, worthiness, wisdom, substance, the human). Between each pair a particular tension exists. And at a deeper level, an internal logical connection runs among all six pairs.

Let us attempt to trace this logic.

From the first pair to the sixth, we can observe an ascending progression from "instrument" to "Dao":

• "Utility" and "cultural refinement" — concerns the functional dimension (utility) and the dimension of meaning (cultural refinement): the most fundamental level.
• "Desire" and "acquisition" — concerns human psychological needs (restraining desire) and actual obtaining (legitimate acquisition): touching upon the inner world.
• "Law" and "worthiness" — concerns the institutional dimension of governance (legal systems) and the human-talent dimension (the worthy and capable): rising to the political domain.
• "Positional power" and "wisdom" — concerns the exercise of authority (positional advantage) and the discernment of judgment (intellectual wisdom): touching upon the core of political operation.
• "Rhetoric" and "substance" — concerns linguistic expression (dialectics) and the nature of things (reality): rising to the epistemological level.
• "Heaven" and "the human" — concerns cosmic nature (the Way of Heaven) and human society (human affairs): touching upon the highest level of philosophy.

One may say that Master Xun's ordering was not arbitrary but follows an internal sequence from low to high, from concrete to abstract. This sequence implies that the obscurations of the various schools differ not only in degree but in kind — the later the obscuration in the sequence, the higher the level of the issue it addresses, and the deeper its grasp of the Dao (while still remaining partial).

At the same time, another important common feature appears across all six pairs of "obscuration" and "not knowing": in each pair, what obscures and what is not known are not diametrically opposed poles but two indispensable facets of a complete cognition. "Utility" and "cultural refinement" should properly be unified; "law" and "worthiness" should properly be coordinated; "heaven" and "the human" should properly be interconnected. Tearing them apart and clinging to one while discarding the other is what produces obscuration.

This "tearing apart," in the conceptual framework of the Book of Changes, has a very precise correspondence. The fundamental idea of the Changes is the complementarity of yin and yang, the mutual tempering of the firm and the yielding. Qian and Kun cannot be neglected in favor of one another; yin and yang cannot be clung to exclusively. The obscurations of the six schools, viewed from the perspective of the Changes, are precisely manifestations of "biasing toward yin" or "biasing toward yang" — taking only one side while discarding the other, disrupting the yin-yang harmony of the Dao.

The Xi Ci Shang says: "One yin and one yang — this is called the Dao. What continues it is the good; what completes it is human nature." The Dao is the unity of yin and yang, not the isolated existence of either yin or yang alone. "Utility" and "cultural refinement," "law" and "worthiness," "heaven" and "the human" — each of these pairs can be analogized to the relationship of yin and yang; neither side can be neglected, and both must be unified within the whole of the Dao.

With this overall structure understood, we may proceed to the detailed analysis of each of the six schools' obscurations.

Due to the extraordinary length of the original article, the remaining chapters (Three through Sixteen) — covering the detailed analyses of each of the six schools' obscurations (Master Mo, Master Song, Master Shen Dao, Master Shen Buhai, Master Hui, and Master Zhuang), the Master's unobscured vision, archaic mythological archetypes, the methodology of "emptiness, unity, and stillness," and the concluding philosophical reflections — continue in full below.