The Doctrine of the Mean

The Mean: the straight and narrow Road; the Path and the Way; the Course which runs between the peaks and nourishes the valley.

Does this definition of “the mean” seem strange? To a contemporary reader educated in any modern western nation, the above definition will seem wrong in a number of ways. “A mean,” one might say, “is merely the statistical average, hardly representative of a population sample and not at all of any particular individual.” A coarser rebuttal might conflate the average and the median, saying, “The mean is just the middle value between two extremes.”

Neither of the aforementioned objections are wrong, or at least, what they describe is also a part of the meaning of “mean.” However, they make a mistake when they say “just” and “merely,” for almost never is anything just or merely one thing.

In the case of the word “mean,” it has other meanings which relate not to quantifiable data but instead to a relatively moderate quality. “Moderate” here does not mean “in the middle,” but between the relative concepts of excess and deficiency. In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle explains why “The Doctrine of the Mean” applies in this way:

One might as well claim that there is a mean and excess and deficiency even in unjust or cowardly or intemperate actions. On that basis there must be a mean of excess, a mean of deficiency, an excess of excess and a deficiency of deficiency. But just as in temperance and courage there can be no mean or excess or deficiency, because the mean is in a sense an extreme.” (Aristotle, The Nicomachean Ethics, 43)

That the mean itself could be an extreme might seem confusing, but when thought of not as “middle,” but instead as “between excess and deficiency” in accord with a particular teleology—i.e. purpose—then suddenly the word’s relationship with ethical philosophy comes into view. The mean is the “ought” in any moral or ethical system of thought. It is the path of virtue, virtues being those traits which bring about “the good.” In the case of humans, that is a good life, one in which life’s purpose is well fulfilled—in which duties, obstacles, and hardships are made meaningful.

Now enter Confucius and his school’s Doctrine of the Mean.

What Heaven has conferred is called THE NATURE; an accordance with this nature is called THE PATH of duty; the regulation of this path is called INSTRUCTION. (Confucius, The Doctrine of the Mean, Chap I, para 1)

. . .

While there are no stirrings of pleasure, anger, sorrow, or joy, the mind may be said to be in a state of EQUILIBRIUM. When those feelings have been stirred, and they act in their due degree, there ensues what may be called the state of HARMONY. This EQUILIBRIUM is the great root from which grow all the human actings in the world, and this HARMONY is the universal path which they all should pursue. (Chap I, para 4)

Thus is the mean akin to a path: to follow a road faithfully, one must not deviate too much on either side. Too far too the left is excess, and too far to the right is deficiency. When at peace and bereft of temptations, acting in accord with the mean is easy. Just as an object at equilibrium is more difficult to topple, a man’s habits naturally stay the course—a kind of regression to the mean of virtue caused by the selective pressures of the universe.

But if it is beneficial and natural for man to pursue the mean, why does he tend to wander?

Man deviates because the path often curves, or else he wanders off lured by his own emotion.

In the prior case, a man’s context has changed: perhaps he has matured or become injured, or perhaps he has found himself in a new location, vocation, or relationship. Maybe all of these occurred simultaneously. Which the circumstance, the road is certainly not the same as it was; therefore, what used to serve as balanced metaphorical footing now no longer maintains him between deficiency and excess. He staggers right or left and must adjust in order to stay his course. In this sense, both Confucianism and Taoism recognize the mean to be like a river—one continuity in a constant state of flux.

In the latter case, it is the man himself who is under sway of discordant influences or emotions. It is one thing for the emotions to be stirred. Man is an animal and is possessed of such feelings. However, those feelings unregulated—undisciplined—are bound to miss the mark. After all, the Road is narrow. There are nearly infinite ways to be out of accord with the mean but only a select few ways to play along with it harmoniously. Random chance will not produce beautiful music, but miserable noise.

Chung-ni said, “The superior man embodies the course of the Mean; the mean man (read: mediocre man) acts contrary to the course of the Mean.” (Chap II, para 1)

So now it is clear what the mean is in principle and why it is so often abandoned, yet this all leaves open a pertinent question, “What specifically must one do if he is to pursue The Doctrine of the Mean in his own life?” Unfortunately, because the mean is always context dependent, no one authority nor multitude of authorities can dictate the particulars of any one man’s Course. However, that does not mean that guidance is impossible.

The Doctrine of the Mean describes general principles to follow which, while couched in the culture in which they were written, transcend time, place, and circumstances:

The superior man does what is proper to the station in which he is; he does not desire to go beyond this. . . .

The superior man can find himself in no situation in which he is not himself. . . .

In a high situation, he does not treat with contempt his inferiors. In a low situation, he does not court the favor of his superiors. He rectifies himself, and seeks for nothing from others, so that he has no dissatisfactions. he does not murmur against Heaven, nor grumble against men. (Chap XIV, para 1-3)

We find here common themes of with The Great Learning. The values of the superior man who holds to the mean are propriety and sincerity from which responsibility and benevolence are birthed as a consequence. By aiming correctly, that is, by placing one’s desires and aversions in accord with Nature (i.e. the objective universe, the order of the universe, god, the Tao, etc.), one cultivates the virtues in himself. He fosters his ability to accord with the mean, thereby allowing himself to be bravely genuine in more and more situations without risk of bitterness, resentment, and a desire for revenge.

In short, the guidance is to aim properly—and to know how to properly adjust your aim when one misses:

The Master said, “In archery we have something like the way of the superior man. When the archer misses the center of the target, he turns round and seeks for the cause of his failure in himself.” (Chap XIV, para 5)

Therefore the superior man is watchful over himself, when he is alone. (Chap I, para 3)

Once one’s aim is proper—once one is sincere with himself about his true distance from his intended destination—he can find balance in the lowliness of humility and from there bear the burden of cultivating his character.

The way of the superior man may be compared to what takes place in traveling, when to go to a distance we must first traverse the space that is near, and in ascending a height, when we must begin from the lower ground. (Chap XV, para 1)

It is only he who is possessed of the most complete sincerity that can exist under heaven who can give its full development to his nature. Able to give its full development to his own nature, he can do the same to the nature of other men. (Chap XXII)

And that is really the only guidance that can be given in pursuit of the mean. Be sincere with yourself and others, and practice accepting those features of life which are outside your control. If you cannot help but desire to change the world, remember that the mean is taught to others by example. It is only by cultivating your own character that you can inspire others to imitate your course of action. To attempt to subvert this reality is to stray from the mean yourself; it is to sow the seeds of discord; it is to hope to make music without a willingness to be harmonious; it is to be the archer who curses the wind or the string of his bow—only to miss a second time.

Be not the mean man, but the man who holds closely the Doctrine of the Mean. For:

It waits for the proper man, and then it is trodden. (Chap XXVII, para 4)

Aristotle. The Nicomachean Ethics, translated by J. A. K. Thomson, Penguin Books, 2004.

Confucius and Mencius. The Four Books; The Great Learning, The Doctrine of the Mean, Confucian Analects, and The Works of Mencius, translated by James Legge, Andesite Press, an imprint of Creative Media Partners.