Ha — it’s not a problem. I remember the workload of the grad student all too well.

Say hello to Andrea for me.

Chris

But I do need to correct a textual point that I made– it’s ren, not dao that Confucius says he attains as soon as he seeks it. The passage is @ 7.30

Thanks for the comment. I agree with much of what you’ve said here (the point about dispositional virtues to the side, which is a different issue). I actually have a paper in the works on the topic, and the exact Analects you use for the opposing view I mention. Especially 4.4, obviously (which, I think, is actually not a straight forward passage). I also think it runs against the general contention in the Analects that the junzi does not worry, because the cultivation of character is entirely within his/her control.

But that said, too much of the Analects seems to point towards jen as more than mere desire, especially just desire that follows from native capacity. Of course, it’s possible that a person could be born with the sort of performative ability that he associates with knowledge, but that’s not the case for me and you, I suppose. So how can we hope to cultivate our own desires and prune them in the appropriate way? It seems, via proper exemplars (2.1) and the community at large (one’s family, I suppose, would play an important role). Without them, it’s hard to see how a Confucian disciple could ever possibly hope for self-cultivation.

There are some passages (to be honest I can’t recall the numbers at the moment) where Confucius, in my opinion, hints at the fact that he is indeed worried that he may be put into a situation and won’t be *able* to do what is yi; he doesn’t say he won’t desire yi, or want to do it. Rather, he seems to imply that he won’t have the ability. Given that the Master is hardly short on desire, he must be referring to some necessary condition for virtue that is external to himself, most likely the presence of virtuous persons around him.

That said, I surely don’t think the Master would absolve the racist. He’s surely not a “blame others” type. But I doubt he’d blame the racist for the emotion they feel. Rather, I think he might blame them for some smaller feats that, given their situation, they *could* accomplish, and which would allow the person, in the presence of further virtuous persons, to take self-cultivation of the type that would avoid racist emotion/action to the next level.

Lastly, and I apologize for the length here, there’s the straightforward question of why a person who thinks that identity is fundamentally relational would look to blame a solitary person for their states/actions (or whatever), as opposed to looking for a more relational explanation of that person’s behavior/attitudes. It seems too individualistic to suit him.

First, I think even we discuss the Analects in the framework of a virtue theory, it’s troublesome to discuss it in terms of dispositional virtue ethic as the framework is obviously an ill-fit. But assuming your concern over Confucius/ Hursthouse is a more general one– the struggle to account for the ‘native stuff’ we’re all born with and what to make of it with regard to moral luck– I believe there’s a genuine tension in the text of the Analects that’s hard (though perhaps not impossible) to resolve.

Though the Way seems to be open to anyone who wishes to pursue it, it’s relatively uncontroversial to assert that not everyone can become a Sage. In the text we’re presented with students of varying skill sets who seem to be not only farther along due to their studies, but because of their native stuff (Yan Hui is clearly the most naturally adept. Zilu errs in li frequently, but is by nature sincere and so errs in a less damaging way than others like Zegong). From this angle, your conclusion about the espistemic limit and the moral importance of the attempt to transform one’s self seems correct.

However, I think it’s problematic to ignore the transformative power of the Way as it is occasionally presented by Confucius. He states that no sooner than he desires the way, than it is at hand. More directly, he states in 4.4 that if one’s purpose is set as authoritative conduct, one can do no wrong (Ames/Rosemont trans). Also, in 2.4 he describes his progress as a person, remarking “from seventy I could give my heart-and-mind free rein without overstepphing the boundaries.” The end point here is about the transformation of his desires; after traveling the way for a long enough period, he no longer worried about controlling his desires because he *desired the right things*. Granted, one could argue that Confucius was just born with better raw stuff as he’s taken as a Sage, but I think the emphasis of the passage is still that of transforming the raw stuff through studies.

If we take this second tendency into account, Confucius is clearly at odds with Hursthouse. The person with inappropriate emotions (eg, the racist) is at fault, and not just because of poor moral luck– but because they’ve somehow failed in their moral learning. This may perhaps be counter to our common intuition, but I think it’s a genuine facet in early Confucianism.

Isn’t the hypothetical moral compass what inspires one’s feeling of guilt?

Isn’t one’s “hard-wire” his moral compass, by definition?

How does one disavow their moral compass, or what is hard-wired?

I imagine, from your description, that the author does not believe a person can disavow their moral compass by any way that matters, at least when determining the value of that person’s virtue.

If that’s a correct assumption, then I have to agree with Hursthouse.

To that end, Confucius’ emphasis on anxiety as you describe it would not concern a righteous anxiety. I recall a discussion of Kirkegaard’s passion that dealt with a much more specific kind of passion — something similarly more specific might be involved in Confucius’ anxiety.

On the central point, I think Confucius would disagree, though. One’s moral character is entirely within one’s own control, in his view.

http://awaitingtenure.wordpress.com/