Making moral determinations based on prioritizing the greater good is a pre-requisite to actions based on ritual propriety

Overall, though, the Mohists found the sort of conservative, traditionalist stance embodied in ceremonial propriety an unconvincing moral guide. Customary ceremonial etiquette can function as a standard of conduct only if a rough consensus holds that the norms of ceremonial propriety are right or permissible. Early Ruist thought seems to take such a consensus for granted. Accordingly, the Analects and Mencius devote little attention to formulating an explicit normative theory to articulate and justify moral norms.9 They focus instead on ethical development, on how to lead ourselves and others to follow the dào reliably. The content of the dào is not thematized as requiring articulation and justification. By contrast, in the Mohists’ view, disagreement exists as to whether certain ceremonial practices are right or wrong. To them, elite ceremonial customs such as elaborate funerals, rich burials, prolonged mourning, and extravagant state rituals accompanied by music and dancing were wasteful and detrimental to the general welfare. In the face of wide-reaching social changes and political turmoil, it seemed futile to recommend ceremonial propriety as a basis for returning society to good order. The Zhōu social and political system was unraveling. Guidance by ceremonial propriety was in effect a dào that had been tried and found wanting. Its failure had contributed to the present chaos. Even more important, the Mohists rejected ceremonial propriety as a fundamental moral guideline because, in a momentous philosophical step, they noticed the crucially important distinction between custom and morality. 10 Conceptually, ceremonial propriety simply cannot do the work of a moral code, because the fact that something conforms to the prevailing view of etiquette, ceremony, or propriety simply does not show it is morally righteous. Accepted social customs—in particular, customs such as elite ceremonial rituals, many of which were practiced by only a small, privileged segment of society—can be morally wrong. The Mohists make this point by calling attention—at roughly the same time Herodotus was making a similar point in Greece—to the wide variation in customs across cultures, not all of which can plausibly be taken to be morally right. Now those who uphold rich burials and prolonged mourning state, “If rich burials and prolonged mourning turn out not to be the Way of the sage-kings, then how do we explain why the gentlemen of the Central States perform them without ceasing and maintain them without choosing something else?!” Our Master Mòzǐ said, “This is what’s called deeming their habits convenient and their customs righteous. In the past, east of Yuè there was the country of Gài Shù. When their eldest son was born, they chopped him up and ate him, calling this ‘advantageous to the younger brothers.’ When their grandfather died, they carried off their grandmother and abandoned her, saying, ‘One cannot live with the wife of a ghost.’ These practices superiors took as government policy and subordinates took as custom, performing them without ceasing and maintaining them without choosing something else. Yet how could these really be the dào of benevolence and righteousness?” (Mz 25/74–77) Other cultures may practice customs we find morally abhorrent. There is thus an important distinction between moral concepts such as benevolence or righteousness and mere custom, be it ours or another culture’s. That a practice is traditional or customary, as ceremonial etiquette is, does not show it is morally right, since in other cultures morally deplorable practices such as eating one’s firstborn son or abandoning one’s grandmother—or foot-binding, slavery, or female genital mutilation—may be just as traditional and customary as our most cherished conceptions of ceremonial propriety. Since other cultures’ customs may be morally wrong, our own might too. Ceremonial propriety thus cannot serve as an authoritative guide to morality. Nor, for that matter, does the consensus of a majority make something morally right. As the Lord of Lǔ observes, in response to Mòzǐ’s criticism of gratuitous military aggression, “If I look at it on the basis of what you say, what all the world calls acceptable is not necessarily so” (49/24). We need to find other, objectively justified standards. This search for objective standards to guide action and reform society lies at the heart of the Mohist philosophical and political project.11 A cardinal conviction driving Mohist thought is that in ethics and politics, as in any other practical field, we must find and apply such standards, which the Mohists call “models” (fǎ 法 , also “paradigms” or “standards”). “Models and Standards,” a relatively late summary of Mohist doctrines, explains the role of models as follows: Our Master Mòzǐ said, “Those in the world who perform tasks cannot do without models and standards. There is no one who can accomplish their task without models and standards. Even officers serving as generals or ministers—they all have models; even the hundred artisans performing their tasks—they too all have models. The hundred artisans make squares with the set square, circles with the compass, straight lines with the string, vertical lines with the plumb line, and flat surfaces with the level. Whether skilled artisans or unskilled artisans, all take these five as models. The skilled are able to conform to them; the unskilled, though unable to conform to them, by following them in performing their tasks still surpass what they can do by themselves. Thus the hundred artisans in performing their tasks all have models to measure by “Now for the greatest to order the world and those the next level down to order great states without models to measure by—this is to be less discriminating than the hundred artisans.” (Mz 4/1–5) The Mohists see models as similar to tools used to guide and check the performance of skilled tasks, such as sawing a square corner or drawing a circle. They provide a clear standard against which we can compare things to judge whether they are correct or on the mark, just as we can use a set square or compass to confirm whether something is truly square or round. They are objective, reliable, and easy to use, such that with minimal training anyone can employ them to perform a task or check the results. Models are understood primarily as exemplars, not abstract principles or rules, although these too can be models. They may be role models, prototypes, examples, or analogies, or they may be tools or measuring devices. Any criterion or paradigm that helps us make correct judgments or act correctly can be a model. Models alone do not ensure success, nor do they erase the distinction between the skilled and unskilled—or between the virtuous and those still acquiring virtue—but for most of us they at least ensure that we will do better than we would without them. A primary task in governing or ordering society, then, is to find reliable, objective models to guide our actions, practices, and policies. As with ceremonial propriety, however, the Mohists point out that any model or standard specific to our particular family, education, or community could turn out to be unreliable. “Models and Standards” continues, That being so, then what is acceptable to take as a model [fǎ] for order [zhì]? If all model themselves on their parents, what would that be like? Those in the world who are parents are many, but the benevolent are few. If all model themselves on their parents, this is modeling on the unbenevolent. Modeling on the unbenevolent—it’s unacceptable to take that as a model. (Mz 4/5– 6) Having rejected parents as a fundamental moral model, the passage next rejects “learning” (or “teachers”) and rulers on the same grounds. We cannot be sure that the particular teachers we follow or our particular political leaders are indeed benevolent. The text concludes that “of these three, parents, teachers, and rulers, none is acceptable as a model for order.” A reliable, objective standard is needed, one that is not fallible in the way that any particular role model or tradition of learning might be. The Mohists propose that we can find such a standard by considering the attitudes of an ideally impartial, beneficent, and reliable moral agent: