The Doctrine of the Mean: China’s Most Misunderstood Wisdom
If someone called you “very Zhongyong” (中庸), how would you feel?
Chances are, you wouldn’t take it as a compliment. In today’s context, “Zhongyong” has almost become a derogatory term—it implies mediocrity, sycophancy, a lack of principles, the philosophy of someone who tries to please everyone.
But if you traveled back over two millennia to the Spring and Autumn period and told Confucius that “Zhongyong means playing it safe,” he might rise from his lectern in indignation.
Because for the Confucians, Zhongyong is not mediocrity—it is the highest wisdom of striking the perfect balance while navigating the path of moderation. It is the highest virtue in Confucius’s heart, a realm that even he sighed was difficult for common people to maintain for long.
So what exactly does Zhongyong mean? Why has this philosophy, once revered as a guiding principle, become so misunderstood in our time?
Back to the Source: What Zhongyong Really Says
To understand Zhongyong, we must return to its origins.
The term “Zhongyong” first appeared in the Analects, while its systematic exposition is found in the Doctrine of the Mean chapter of the Book of Rites. Traditionally attributed to Zisi (Confucius’s grandson), it was later elevated by Zhu Xi as one of the “Four Books,” becoming a core text of Confucian classics.
Let’s see how the ancients defined “Zhong” (中, the mean) and “Yong” (庸, the ordinary):
“Before the feelings of pleasure, anger, sorrow, and joy are aroused, it is called equilibrium (Zhong). When these feelings are aroused and each and all attain due measure and degree, it is called harmony (He). Equilibrium is the great foundation of the world; harmony is the universal path of the world.”
— The Doctrine of the Mean, Chapter 1
The key to this passage lies in “before aroused” and “due measure.”
“Zhong” is not the absence of emotion, but the inner peace and clarity when emotions have not yet been aroused. It is not suppression, but an inner stability.
“He” (harmony) is not uniformity or conformity, but the proper expression of emotion—neither excessive nor insufficient. It concerns appropriateness, timing, and precise judgment of the situation.
Thus, Zhongyong has never been a simple “taking the average.” It is not the midpoint between two extremes, but finding the most appropriate point in a specific context.
This distinction is crucial.
Confucius had a wonderful illustration. When asked which was more virtuous—Zizhang or Zixia—he replied: “Zizhang goes too far; Zixia does not go far enough.” When asked if Zizhang was better, Confucius answered: “Going too far is as bad as not going far enough.”
“Both excess and deficiency are equally wrong.” Zhongyong is not about finding a “good enough” answer between two wrongs, but finding the “right” in the complexity of reality.
This requires extraordinary discernment, deep insight into the situation, and inner clarity and stability.
No wonder Confucius sighed: “The doctrine of the Mean is the highest virtue. It has been rare among the people for a long time.”
He wasn’t criticizing the common people for being mediocre, but saying: Zhongyong is extremely difficult. It is not something ordinary people can achieve, because it requires being neither swept away by emotion nor rigidly detached, but responding precisely to each unique situation.
The Highest Wisdom: Why Zhongyong Is So Hard to Achieve
If Zhongyong is not mediocrity, what is it?
Simply put, Zhongyong is a form of the highest wisdom.
It is high wisdom on several levels:
First, it requires extraordinary discernment.
There are no two grains of sand exactly alike in the world, nor are there two situations exactly the same. Zhongyong demands that in each unique moment, you can judge what is “just right.”
This cannot be achieved by simply applying formulas. It requires profound learning, rich life experience, and a deep understanding of human nature and society.
Second, it requires tremendous inner stability.
When emotions run high, people tend toward extremes. In anger, we want to destroy everything; in grief, we want to give up everything; in triumph, we want to conquer everything.
Zhongyong requires maintaining clarity amid these torrents of emotion—neither suppressing nor indulging, but allowing emotions to “attain due measure and degree.”
What kind of stability does this require?
Third, it requires abandoning the notion of “absolute correctness.”
Modern people are accustomed to black-and-white thinking—right or wrong, good or bad, friend or enemy, with no middle ground.
But Zhongyong tells us: Truth often lies not at either extreme, but in that context-appropriate “middle” that changes with time and circumstance.
This is not moral relativism, but an acknowledgment of reality’s complexity, an acceptance that different situations call for different responses.
Mencius said: “Holding to the mean without flexibility is as bad as holding to an extreme.” If you mechanically adhere to the “middle” without knowing how to adapt to specific circumstances (quanyi, 权变), it is as wrong as holding to an extreme.
Zhongyong is not a fixed line, but a dynamic balance.
Like a tightrope walker, their “middle” is not a specific point on the rope, but that dynamically shifting balance point that adjusts with the body’s lean.
This requires skill, practice, and a kind of whole-hearted presence and awareness.
So when we say Zhongyong is “high wisdom,” we mean: It is a wisdom that requires lifelong cultivation, not a “technique” that can be easily mastered.
Modern Misunderstandings: How Zhongyong Became “Muddying the Waters”
If Zhongyong is so sublime, why is it misunderstood today as “muddying the waters”?
This misunderstanding likely stems from several sources.
First, linguistic evolution.
“Zhongyong” was high praise in ancient times, but in modern Chinese, the character “yong” (庸) often carries negative connotations of mediocrity and uselessness. The phonetic similarity between “Zhongyong” and “pingyong” (平庸, mediocre) also reinforces this association at the subconscious level.
Language is alive; its meaning changes with the times. But when we use a term that has changed flavor to understand ancient wisdom, distortion is inevitable.
Second, a vulgarized understanding of “harmony.”
Confucianism emphasizes “He” (harmony), but this “He” is not unprincipled conformity, but “harmony in diversity.”
Yan Ying had a famous metaphor: A soup is delicious because various ingredients complement each other while maintaining their own flavors. If you blended them all with water, who would want to drink it?
True harmony is achieved by acknowledging differences, respecting differences—not by erasing differences to create uniformity.
But in real life, many people understand “harmony” as “don’t argue,” “don’t offend anyone,” so “Zhongyong” becomes a synonym for “playing it safe.”
This is the greatest misunderstanding of Zhongyong.
Third, modern society’s glorification of “taking clear stands.”
In the internet age, people are accustomed to taking sides. You’re either on this side or that side; there is no middle ground.
In this context, any attempt to understand both sides, to seek balance, is interpreted as “fence-sitting” or “having no principles.”
But Zhongyong precisely asks you to transcend simple binary opposition and find solutions at a higher dimension.
This is not having no principles; it is a more mature stance—understanding the claims of one side and the concerns of the other, then finding a solution that can accommodate all.
Is this not more difficult than simply “picking a side”?
East and West: The Difference Between Zhongyong and the Golden Mean
Interestingly, Western philosophy has a similar concept—Aristotle’s “Golden Mean.”
Aristotle believed that every virtue lies between two extremes. For example, courage is the mean between rashness and cowardice; generosity is the mean between profligacy and stinginess.
At first glance, this seems similar to Zhongyong. But upon closer examination, there are essential differences.
The Golden Mean is closer to a mathematical “average,” emphasizing the “middle position” between two extremes.
Zhongyong emphasizes “just right,” and this “just” is not fixed but changes with the situation.
For example: In Aristotle’s framework, courage as a virtue has a fixed position—between rashness and cowardice.
But in the Zhongyong framework, what constitutes “just right” courage depends on the specific situation. Facing an armed criminal, a trained police officer and an ordinary citizen have completely different expressions of “just right.”
Zhongyong is not a fixed line, but a wisdom of acting appropriately according to time and place.
This is why Mencius emphasized “shizhong” (时中)—doing the right thing at the right time.
This emphasis on “timing” is a distinctive feature of Confucian thought and the key difference between Zhongyong and the Western concept of the “mean.”
In This Age of Extremes, We Need Zhongyong More Than Ever
Writing this, I am reminded of a phrase from Fei Xiaotong:
“Each beauty appreciating its own beauty, appreciating the beauty of others, sharing beauty together, achieving great harmony under heaven.”
These sixteen characters can be seen as the best modern expression of Zhongyong wisdom.
“Each beauty appreciating its own beauty” is holding to your own “middle,” not being swayed by external influences;
“appreciating the beauty of others” is acknowledging differences, understanding others’ “middle”;
“sharing beauty together” is seeking harmony in diversity, achieving “He”;
“great harmony under heaven” is the ultimate ideal realm.
In this increasingly polarized age, we need the wisdom of Zhongyong more than ever.
We don’t need to choose between “tradition” and “modernity”—we can find paths where tradition and modernity merge;
We don’t need to choose between “individual” and “collective”—we can find a balance between personal freedom and social responsibility;
We don’t need to choose between “East” and “West”—we can draw on the essence of both civilizations.
This is not compromise, not mediocrity, but a higher form of wisdom.
As the Doctrine of the Mean opens:
“What Heaven has conferred is called nature; accordance with this nature is called the Way; the cultivation of this Way is called education.”
The path of Zhongyong, in the end, is about returning to the authenticity of human nature, finding that “middle” that belongs to us amid the complex world, and then living just right.
This is difficult. But it is precisely because it is difficult that it is worth pursuing.
References:
- The Doctrine of the Mean (Zhongyong)
- The Analects (Lunyu)
- Yu Yingshi, Modern Interpretations of Chinese Intellectual Traditions
- Fei Xiaotong, Cultural Self-Awareness and Social Development