How cognitive technology can help us achieve cosmic harmony: thoughts from the Xunzi

Bali rice terrace, by John Skodak, via Flickr

When we think of pinnacles of human technology, our thoughts spontaneously go to high-tech, very energy-consuming things such as computers, ChatGPT, or electric vehicles. Or, if we have a Roman emperor bust as our social media picture, we might think of elaborate medieval cathedrals.

However, as Ursula K Le Guin writes in her Rant about technology, technology is much more than this:

Technology is the active human interface with the material world. But the word is consistently misused to mean only the enormously complex and specialised technologies of the past few decades, supported by massive exploitation both of natural and human resources.

Le Guin encourages us to also consider lower-tech examples, such as “paper, ink, wheels, knives, clocks, chairs, aspirin pills,” which are, after all, not “natural objects, born with us like our teeth and fingers.”

This perspective shift can help us to think about technology in an even broader sense to also include cognitive technologies.

Cognitive technologies, like physical technologies, help us to interface with the material world and to transform it, but they do this not primarily by acting upon the world directly. They help us to do it indirectly. The concept of cognitive technology is well embedded in contemporary cognitive science, for instance, number systems are cognitive technologies, as is language.

While cognitive technologies do not alter our environment in a direct physical sense, they still alter the way we can engage with it. Thanks to cognitive technologies, we can distinguish between edible and poisonous plants, we can differentiate quantities that would otherwise not be distinguishable, such as 13 versus 15 apples. The world thus presents different affordances to us. It becomes differentiated, presenting a rich array of possibilities to interact with it.

As the pre-Qin Warring States confucian philosopher Xunzi (荀子, ca.  310--235 BCE) notes, cognitive technologies help us to transform ourselves. Xunzi uses two terms for this, hua 化 and bian 變. He argues that humans can achieve this self-transformation by drawing cultural distinctions. For instance, he notes that while sex is natural, gender is cultural. Having offspring is natural, but having a father-son relationship is cultural:

That by which humans are human is not because they are special in having two legs and no feathers, but rather because they have distinctions. The birds and beasts have fathers and sons but not the intimate relationship of father and son. They have the male sex and the female sex but no differentiation between male and female. And so for human ways, none is without distinctions (Xunzi, Against Physiognomy).

I don't think it's quite right what Xunzi says about animals lacking these culturally-mediated distinctions. We have a large literature on animal cultural traditions, and some of these are gender-specific, such as some use of tools in chimpanzees, or leadership roles in female menopausal cetaceans.

Xunzi expresses a tremendous optimism about our culture (which he calls artifice or wei) in helping us to live more harmoniously with each other, and to even achieve a harmonious relationships with the broader cosmos (Heaven). Processes such as aging and death, as well as our innate desires are natural and unalterable. But we have control over our cognitive and other technologies, and we can use those to improve our relationship with nature.

For example, plagues and floods will always occur, but we can deal with them by preparing adequately. He startlingly claims “If you cultivate the Way and do not deviate from it, then Heaven cannot ruin you. Thus, floods and drought cannot make you go hungry or thirsty” (Xunzi, Discourse on Heaven). The problem with floods and droughts, and even plagues is not the working of Heaven but what happens if “fundamental works are neglected and expenses are extravagant.”

For Xunzi, ritual was one of the highest achievements of human cognitive technology. As Tao Jiang notes, “ritual practices help human beings negotiate the relationship between the cosmic (heavenly), the natural (earthly), and the emotional (human) components of the world in harmonizing all the relationships involved.”

Ritual and music can help us to live more sustainably, because it can fulfill our desires, or temper them, in ways that do not deplete natural resources.

This is a low-key road to affluence, echoing what Marshall Sahlins called in his Stone Age Economics (1972) the “Zen road to affluence", and which I discuss here.

In his origin story of ritual, Xunzi explicitly puts human desires and the problem of tempering them at the heart of why ritual was invented:

From what did ritual arise? I say: Humans are born having desires. When they have desires but do not get the objects of their desire, then they cannot but seek some means of satisfaction. If there is no measure or limit to their seeking, then they cannot help but struggle with each other. If they struggle with each other then there will be chaos, and if there is chaos then they will be impoverished. The former kings hated such chaos, and so they established rituals and yi in order to divide things among people, to nurture their desires, and to satisfy their seeking. They caused desires never to exhaust material goods, and material goods never to be depleted by desires, so that the two support each other and prosper. This is how ritual arose. (Xunzi, discourse on ritual, Hutton translation).

How does ritual help us to achieve a low-key road to satisfying our desires? Xunzi explains that it nurtures our desires. It satiates us in the way good food, or lovely fragrances, or beautiful sights satiate us: “Ritual is a means of nurture. Meats and grains, the five flavors and the various spices are means to nurture the mouth. Fragrances and perfumes are means to nurture the nose.” In a similar way, ritual nurtures the heart-mind.

When we think about sustainable living, our thoughts go to the physical ways we engage with the world: solar panels, composting, and the like. But to alter our heart-minds through cognitive technologies is a road that we should not underestimate, and which may well need to be an integral part of efforts like this. Having the right and proper practices as Xunzi proposes for ritual may also be key for us to be able to do with less. And within that lies a great promise of transformative freedom. As Jiang writes, “The Xunzians cultivate ritual skills that seek to transform various domains of relationality. For them, this is the genesis of a meaningful and fulfilling human world, as the consequence of the sagely transformation of the raw and uncouth world, in partnership with nature.”

A final thought: as I'm writing this, COP28 in Dubai is taking place. It has become an empty theater (it's even headed by a beneficiary and main agent of fossil fuel). A record 84,000 people have flown in, their actions and the CO2-footprint this generates completely not in line with the stated aims of the conference. As we think about our social practices, Xunzi's views on ritual can help us see that a large in-person event like this is not sustainable, does not help us to achieve cosmic harmony.

We must, and can, do better.