Key ideas
Taoism teaches that we’re likely trying too hard most of the time. Instead, we should embody the principles of wei wu wei, or “doing non-doing.” Learn how much force to exert, and when not to exert any force at all.
- Taoists use the example of grilling fish to illustrate this concept. When you poke and prod the fish on the grill too much, you ruin it. It breaks apart from all the prodding. You have to leave it to cook. Only flip the fish when the time is right, and then let it go again until it’s done.
- We’re repeatedly told how important it is to fight to achieve your goals, to burn the candle at both ends, to push ourselves to the limit. The practice of wu wei shows another path to excellence: do your work, do it well, and then set down your tools.
- Wu wei isn’t inaction — it’s a recognition that blunt force is not always the proper force. Rather, Wu wei means approaching our actions with finesse, applying only the necessary amount of energy in the right way at the right time.
- As leaders, we can remember this approach, seeking to manage only when management is needed, offering support when support is helpful. Otherwise, step back and let teams do their cooking. Lead with a light touch.
Transcript
In the last episode, we looked at some fundamental concepts from Taoism and how they relate to solving complex problems. We left off with a question: how do we know when we have “just enough” information to inform our decision-making? This is the kind of question I’ll return to again and again in this podcast: how do we know how much is enough? When do we have enough money? Enough possessions? Enough power, prestige, fame, or recognition? In this episode, we’ll look at this question in a different light: how do we know when we’re putting in enough effort? Or too much effort?
Taoism teaches that we’re likely trying too hard most of the time. Instead, we should embody the principles of wei wu wei, or “doing non-doing.” Often just described as wu wei. Taoists use the example of grilling fish to illustrate this concept. When you poke and prod the fish on the grill too much, you ruin it. It breaks apart from all the prodding. You have to leave it to cook. Only flip the fish when the time is right, and then let it go again until it’s done. I also think this particular cooking example applies to cooking eggs sunny-side up, but (impromptu joke about cooking/getting hungry).
There are many verses in the Tao Te Ching that point directly or indirectly to the idea of wu wei. One of my favorites is verse 43:
The gentlest thing in the world overcomes the hardest thing in the world.
That which has no substance enters where there is no space.
This shows the value of non-action.
Teaching without words,
performing without actions:
that is the Master’s way.
Water is often used to demonstrate this idea. It is the softest substance yet wears away the hardest stone. Just think of the Grand Canyon: one of the largest physical landmarks on earth carved out through a steady drip and flow of water over millions of years.
Another example: Several months ago, I was in a centuries-old cemetery. I saw a stunning illustration of the power of gentle yet persistent non-action. A gravestone that was perhaps 150 years old was split in half, rising up out of the ground like a scene from the Walking Dead. But it wasn’t a zombie hand breaking through. It was a weed. A tiny seed had found its way through the cracks, took root, and slowly rose up. Despite the softness of the sprouting plant, its slow and persistent growth snapped an eight-inch thick slab of stone like it was a dry twig. The little sprouting plant doesn’t struggle and fight. It doesn’t complain and bash its tendrils against the rock. If we were to see a timelapse of this plant breaking through the stone, it would probably look as if it exerted no effort but simply pushed through the rock like it was nothing.
These examples from nature sound nice and all. But how does this apply to our lives and work?
Taoism is often presented as a guide for living better lives. The teachings of the Tao offer principles for living more in harmony with our families, co-workers, and the world around us. And I think from my own experience in studying and practicing with the Tao, I can attest that it has a lot of value in daily life. But the original target audience of the Tao Te Ching probably wasn’t ordinary everyday people. Historians indicate the Tao Te Ching was really intended as a manual for governance: at once a critique of the government systems of the day and advice on how to better govern a country. In that light, we can see some value for today’s decision-makers and leaders tackling complex problems.
The art of wu wei can apply to multiple levels, from our own day-to-day work to leading teams, all the way to governing organizations and countries. As individuals, we can see the value of wu wei anytime we feel burned out, stressed, or up against relentless obstacles. Rather than struggle and strain, can you soften your approach? We’re repeatedly told how important it is to fight to achieve your goals, to burn the candle at both ends, to push ourselves to the limit. The practice of wu wei shows another path to excellence: do your work, do it well, and set down your tools.
Wu wei can also guide how we lead others. Many of us have no doubt experienced being micromanaged. We probably feel like that over-prodded fish. We like to be left on our own to the right amount, trusted to do our work, only attended when attending is needed. As managers, we can remember this approach, seeking to manage only when management is needed, offering support when support is helpful. Otherwise, step back and let teams do their cooking.
And then Taoists had much to say about wu wei and governing organizations or nations. Lao Tzu and the Taoists would likely counsel policymakers to make policy that has the lightest touch possible — so light as to hardly exist. Modern-day Libertarians in the United States would probably find great reassurance in Lao Tzu’s teachings, as both would promote limited government intervention.
No doubt, this idea of wu wei can be hard to swallow, especially if you’re in the position of making policy or trying to solve problems. Wu wei can sound an awful lot like “inaction.” And the thought of “inaction” seems like forfeiting, giving up, collapsing in the face of grave problems. If we stop our work and just sit back, the problems don’t disappear. Forests are still razed to the ground. Rights are stripped away. Disinformation still destabilizes democracies. Abuse of women, minorities, children, and other groups continues. Even at a day-to-day level, it sounds crazy to consider inaction as the right action when we’ve got bills to pay, dishes in the sink, kids screaming for our attention, or any other manner of daily setbacks.
Wu wei isn’t really inaction, though - it’s more a recognition that blunt force is not always the proper force. Rather, Wu wei means approaching our actions with finesse, applying only the necessary amount of energy in the right way at the right time. And then stepping back when we’re done.
We might often approach our work and problems with fierce energy, smashing away at our problems with a proverbial sledgehammer. Instead, the right tool might be a scalpel – or even just a light touch with a brush.
Wu wei doesn’t come all that naturally in our modern world. It is like a whisper in a world of shouting voices. It is like harnessing the quiet power of a seed sprouting rather than the roar of a turbo-boosted tractor engine. It is being the gentlest thing to overcome the hardest things.
That’s all for this episode. Check back again next week for a tour through time and space, looking at complexity through the lens of big history. Be sure to subscribe for more episodes. And please share this with a friend if you think it will be helpful to someone. Until the next time, be well!
References
In this episode, I quoted the Stephen Mitchell translation of the Tao Te Ching, which is an excellent introduction to this profound text. It’s more recent than many translations and presents the Tao with a modern voice. I also referred to translations by Gia-Fu Feng and Jane English and by Jonathan Star.
Podcast soundtrack credit:
Our Story Begins Kevin MacLeod (incompetech.com)
Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License
http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/