Chapter 15: Examination of "The Debater Debates What He Cannot Debate" (Biàn Zhě, Biàn Qí Suǒ Bù Néng Biàn Yě)

Section 1: What is "Debating What One Cannot Debate"$18

"The debater debates what he cannot debate." The structure is the same as the previous two statements. "Debating what he cannot debate" is a transcendent form of debate.

Secular debate concerns what one can debate—right vs. wrong, good vs. evil, beautiful vs. ugly, profit vs. harm—these issues can all be argued through reasoning and refutation. However, the truly profound questions—the essence of the Dao, the unity of all things, the equality of life and death—these issues "cannot be debated," because they transcend the scope of language and logic.

Yet, the cultivator must still "debate" them—this "debate" is not argumentation using words and logic, but "debating" through existence itself—responding to those un-debatable ultimate questions through one’s very being.

Section 2: Zhuangzi’s Critique of "Debate"

Zhuangzi held a profound critical view of secular debate.

Zhuangzi, Qi Wu Lun, states:

"Suppose you and I argue, and you defeat me, and I do not defeat you. Is it that you are truly right and I am truly wrong$19 Suppose I defeat you, and you do not defeat me. Am I truly right and you truly wrong$20 Are some of us right, and some of us wrong$21 Are all of us right, or are all of us wrong$22 If you and I cannot know each other, we rely on a third party to judge..."

As quoted before, this passage argues for the impossibility of drawing definite conclusions through argument. Winning or losing a debate does not equate to determining right or wrong.

And further:

"Debate, too, has its non-debate. The Great Debate does not speak (Dà Biàn Bù Yán)."

"The Great Debate does not speak"—the most profound debate uses no words. The most profound debate is about what cannot be expressed through language—it "debates" through silence and existence, through action.

Zhuangzi, Yu Yan (Allegorical Statements), states:

"All ten thousand things are seeded, interchanging through different forms. Beginning and end are like a ring, without a sequence one can grasp. This is called Heavenly Balance (Tiān Jūn). Heavenly Balance is the Heavenly Boundary (Tiān Ní)."

The "Heavenly Balance" (Tiān Jūn)—the balanced operation of the Dao. All things transform into each other through different forms; beginning and end cycle like a ring, without a discernible sequence. This is the operation of the Heavenly Balance.

This "Heavenly Balance" is the "Heavenly Balance" (Tiān Jūn) mentioned later—the balance of the Heavenly Dao. Within this balance, all distinctions of right and wrong, good and evil, beauty and ugliness dissolve—because all things are in constant flux, nothing is eternally fixed.

This "Heavenly Balance" is precisely what the later phrase "Heavenly Balance will defeat him" refers to. "Debating what one cannot debate" is debating this "Heavenly Balance"—the equilibrium of all things, the cycle of transformation, the dissolution of right and wrong. These things cannot be debated with words (because words inherently create distinctions), but only demonstrated through existence.

Section 3: Comparison of Zhuangzi’s Transcendence with Pre-Qin Debate Traditions

The pre-Qin period was a golden age for debate.

The School of Names (Mingjia):

Gongsun Long argued: "A white horse is not a horse." He also argued: "Hardness and whiteness are two things." Hui Shi proposed "Ten Points on the Exhaustiveness of Things":

"That which is supremely great has no outside, this is called the Great One; that which is supremely small has no inside, this is called the Small One. Without thickness, it cannot accumulate; yet it can span a thousand li. Heaven and Earth are low, mountains and marshes are level. The sun at its zenith is still angled; things are being born just as they are dying. The Great Sameness differs from the Small Sameness; this is called the difference between Great and Small Sameness. All things are both the same and different; this is called the Great Sameness and Difference. The South is infinite yet finite. Today I arrive at Yue, yet yesterday I came. A linked chain can be unlinked. I know the center of the world: it is south of Yan and north of Yue. Love all things universally; Heaven and Earth are one body." (Zhuangzi, Tianxia)

Hui Shi’s debates revealed the relativity of concepts—greatness and smallness, high and low, sameness and difference, today and yesterday—none are absolute. This debate was already profound on the intellectual level.

However, Zhuangzi believed Hui Shi "pursued all things without returning" (Zhuī Wàn Wù Ér Bù Fǎn)—chasing distinctions among things without knowing how to return. Hui Shi’s debates, while exposing the relativity of concepts, still operated within the realm of concepts—using concepts to negate concepts. Zhuangzi’s "debating what one cannot debate" seeks to transcend concepts themselves—not negating concepts with concepts, but transcending concepts through silence ("The Great Debate does not speak").

Zhuangzi, Tianxia, evaluates Hui Shi:

"Hui Shi was multifarious, his writings filling five carts. His Dao was convoluted and contradictory, his words imprecise. His idea of classifying things was: 'That which is supremely great has no outside, this is called the Great One; that which is supremely small has no inside, this is called the Small One.' ... Hui Shi took this as his greatness, and displayed it to the world, delighting the debaters of the world. ... Hui Shi spent his days debating with men using his knowledge, making a spectacle of himself among the debaters of the world—this was his foundation. Yet Hui Shi, with his mouth and discourse, considered himself the most worthy, saying, 'How grand are Heaven and Earth!' Shi was ambitious but lacked technique. Judging by the Dao of Heaven and Earth, Hui Shi’s abilities are like the labor of a gnat or a fly. What use is he to the things of the world$23"

Zhuangzi’s critique of Hui Shi: Hui Shi wrote five carts full of diverse writings, learned and adept at debate, yet "his Dao was convoluted and contradictory," and his "words imprecise." He considered himself the most worthy, yet from the perspective of the Heavenly Dao, his ability was no more than the effort of a mosquito or a fly—insignificant. Why$24 Because Hui Shi’s debates remained trapped in the intellectual plane, failing to transcend intellect to enter the Dao.

Zhuangzi’s critique of Hui Shi precisely illustrates the opposite of "debating what one cannot debate"—Hui Shi debated what can be debated (the relativity of concepts) but failed to debate what cannot be debated (the absolute nature of the Dao, or rather, the Dao’s transcendence of all relativity).

Debate in Mohism:

Mozi, Xiao Qu (Distinguishing Opposites), states:

"The purpose of debate is to clarify the distinctions between right and wrong, examine the principles governing order and chaos, investigate the location of sameness and difference, scrutinize the relationship between names and realities, settle gains and harms, and resolve doubts and suspicions. It is to imitate the nature of all things, to search for the analogies in all discourse. Using names to name realities, using language to express intent, using justifications to explain origins. To draw by analogy, and to grant by analogy."

The purpose of Mohist debate is to "clarify right and wrong," "examine order and chaos," "scrutinize names and realities," "settle gains and harms," and "resolve doubts." This debate has clear practical goals and strict logical methods ("Using names to name realities, using language to express intent...").

However, Zhuangzi would ask: Who can guarantee that the "right and wrong" you clarify are the true right and wrong$25 Who can guarantee that your standard for examining "order and chaos" is correct$26 Who can guarantee that the "names" you scrutinize correspond to the "realities"$27 These are the ultimate questions that "cannot be debated." While Mohist debate methods are precise, they cannot answer these ultimate questions.

Section 3: Methods of "Debating What One Cannot Debate"

If one cannot debate these things with words, how does one "debate what one cannot debate"$28

Method One: Debating with Silence.

"The Great Debate does not speak" (Dà Biàn Bù Yán)—the most profound debate uses no words. When the debater realizes that language cannot reach ultimate truth, he chooses silence. This silence is not the awkwardness of having nothing to say, but the fullness achieved after transcending language—in silence, the Heavenly Dao naturally manifests.

The dialogue in Zhuangzi, Zhi Bei You:

"Zhi traveled north over the dark waters, ascended Mount Yin Deng, and encountered Wu Wei Wei (Non-Action Speaker). Zhi said to Wu Wei Wei, 'I wish to ask you: With what thought and what contemplation does one come to know the Dao$29 With what place and what attire does one find ease in the Dao$30 With what direction and what Way does one attain the Dao$31' He asked three times, but Wu Wei Wei did not answer—not that he refused to answer, but he did not know how to answer. Zhi could not get an answer, returned south of the White Water, ascended Mount Huque, and saw Kuang Qu (the Mad Humiliator). Zhi questioned Kuang Qu about this. Kuang Qu said, 'Alas! I know, and I was about to tell you.' He was about to speak but forgot what he intended to say. Zhi could not get an answer, returned to the Emperor’s Palace, and saw the Yellow Emperor, asking him. The Yellow Emperor said: 'Begin to know the Dao with no thought and no contemplation; begin to find ease in the Dao with no place and no attire; begin to attain the Dao with no direction and no way.'"

Zhi (Knowledge) asks Wu Wei Wei three questions. Wu Wei Wei does not answer—"not that he refused to answer, but he did not know how to answer." This "not knowing how to answer" is the best answer—the Dao cannot be articulated through words.

Zhi then questions Kuang Qu. Kuang Qu says, "I know," and is about to speak but forgets what he intended to say. This "about to speak but forgot what he intended to say" (Zhōng Yù Yán Ér Wàng Qí Suǒ Yù Yán) perfectly illustrates "debating what one cannot debate"—trying to debate the Dao, the words reach the lips but cannot be spoken, because the Dao truly cannot be expressed in language.

Finally, Zhi consults the Yellow Emperor. The Yellow Emperor answers—but then comments:

"Zhi asked the Yellow Emperor, 'If you and I know this, while they do not, who is right$32' The Yellow Emperor said: 'Wu Wei Wei is truly right; Kuang Qu is close to it. You and I are ultimately not close. The one who knows does not speak; the one who speaks does not know.'"

The Yellow Emperor says Wu Wei Wei is truly correct, Kuang Qu is close, but he and Zhi are far from it. "The one who knows does not speak; the one who speaks does not know."

This is the apex of "debating what one cannot debate"—the best debater (Wu Wei Wei) remains silent because the Dao is ineffable. The next best (Kuang Qu) wants to speak but cannot, because he approaches the Dao. Those who speak (the Yellow Emperor and Zhi) are actually farthest from the Dao.

Method Two: Debating with Existence.

Besides silence, one can "debate" through one’s mode of existence. The cultivator does not say what the Dao is, but demonstrates what the Dao is through his very being. His walking, standing, sitting, and lying, his every word and action, are manifestations of the Dao—this is the most powerful "debate."

The figures in Zhuangzi, De Chong Fu, who had deformed bodies but abundant virtue, are debating through existence. They do not claim high virtue; they simply exist naturally, attracting people. People feel the illumination of the Dao in their presence—this is debate without words, debate through existence.

Method Three: Debating through Allegory.

Zhuangzi’s own "debate" largely occurs through allegorical statements (Yù Yán). Zhuangzi, Yu Yan, states:

"Allegorical statements make up nineteen-twentieths; repeated words make up seventeen-twentieths. The words of the wine-cup spout forth daily, harmonizing with the Heavenly Boundary (Tiān Ní)."

"Allegorical statements make up nineteen-twentieths"—nine-tenths of Zhuangzi’s writing is allegory. Allegory is not direct argumentation or refutation but inspiration through stories. It doesn't state "This is the Dao," but uses a story to lead the reader to personal realization. This realization transcends language and logic, directly touching the Dao—this is the literary method of "debating what one cannot debate."

"The words of the wine-cup spout forth daily, harmonizing with the Heavenly Boundary"—words flow out naturally, like water pouring from a cup, aligning with the natural distinctions of the Dao. These words are not deliberate debates but natural expressions—the speaker himself doesn't know what he is saying, yet it happens to align with the Heavenly Dao. This is "debating what one cannot debate."