How to Control Greed
The Most Effective Means of Controlling Greed Is the Law
By MO Yan
【Editor’s Note: Human society may seem chaotic, but at its core, it revolves around two basic human desires: the poor's pursuit of wealth and the wealthy's pursuit of pleasure. Ancient sages like Sima Qian (司马迁) and Confucius (孔夫子) highlighted these dynamics, with Confucius affirming that while desiring wealth is natural, gaining it through illegitimate means is unacceptable. Despite centuries of moral teachings, people continue to seek wealth through unethical methods driven by greed. Literary works reflect these struggles, often critiquing the corrupt wealthy while praising the dignified poor. Human desires, like the tale of the fisherman's wife, can spiral out of control, leading to inevitable consequences. Although moral and literary guidance can only go so far, Mo Yan emphasizes that the law remains the most effective means of controlling greed. As societies grapple with widening inequalities, literature must play its part in reminding humanity of the dangers of unchecked desire.】
Human society bustles with noise and chaos, a kaleidoscope of lights, wine, lust, and luxury, appearing infinitely complex. Yet, upon reflection, it's merely the poor seeking wealth and the wealthy seeking pleasure and excitement—that's essentially all there is. The great ancient Chinese sage Sima Qian (司马迁) once said, “In all the hustle and bustle under heaven, all seek profit; in all the confusion under heaven, all act for gain” (“天下熙熙，皆为利来；天下攘攘，皆为利往”). Confucius (孔夫子), the saint of Chinese sages, remarked, “Wealth and rank are what people desire; poverty and low status are what people detest” (“富与贵，人之所欲也；贫与贱，人之所恶也”). The common folk says, “When poor, no one asks in the busy streets; when rich, distant relatives appear in the deep mountains.” Whether sages or commoners, intellectuals, or illiterates, all have a clear understanding of the relationship between poverty and wealth.
Why do people detest poverty? Because the poor cannot fully satisfy their desires. Whether it's appetite or sexual desire, vanity or the love of beauty, whether it's avoiding queues at the hospital or flying first class—all these require money to fulfill. Of course, if born into royalty or holding high office, one might not need money to satisfy these desires. Wealth comes from money; rank comes from birth, pedigree, and power. Naturally, with money, one need not worry about status, and with power, one seemingly need not worry about money. Wealth and rank are inseparable and can be merged into one category.
It is human nature and a legitimate desire for the poor to envy and aspire to wealth and rank. Confucius affirmed this point. However, Confucius also said that although desiring wealth and rank is a legitimate human desire, enjoying wealth and rank obtained through illegitimate means is improper. Poverty is detested by all, but escaping poverty through illegitimate means is unacceptable. Today, the sage's teachings from over two thousand years ago have long become common knowledge among the people. Yet, in real life, those who escape poverty and become rich through illegitimate means are countless; those who do so without punishment are numerous. While cursing those who have illegitimately become rich, many would do the same given the chance. This is the so-called decline of social morals and loss of traditional values.
In ancient times, many benevolent and righteous gentlemen did not covet money or long for wealth and rank. Take Yan Hui (颜回), Confucius's foremost disciple: “With a simple bowl of rice and a gourd of water, living in a shabby alley, others couldn't endure such misery, yet Hui never changed his joy.” Guan Ning (管宁) of the Three Kingdoms era, when hoeing the field and seeing gold, swung his hoe without a glance. His companion Hua Xin (华歆) picked it up, looked at it, and then threw it back to the ground. Though desire arose in his heart, being able to discard it for the sake of face was not easy. When Zhuangzi (庄子) was fishing in the Pu River, the King of Chu sent two envoys to invite him to office. He told them: “In Chu, there is a sacred tortoise that has been dead for three thousand years. The king stores it in a bamboo box wrapped in silk and places it in the ancestral temple. Do you think this tortoise would prefer to be dead and have its bones preserved in honor or to be alive and dragging its tail in the mud?” The envoys replied, “It would prefer to be alive and dragging its tail in the mud.” This fable of Zhuangzi contains the subtle intention of retreating to avoid trouble.
Despite the moral examples set by the ancients of being pure-hearted and minimalistic, the effect has been minimal. People chase fame and profit, like mosquitoes drawn to blood or fly to rot, brewing countless tragedies and, of course, enacting innumerable comedies throughout history. Literature, as an art form reflecting social life, naturally takes this issue as its most important material for research and depiction. Most literary figures also love wealth and pursue fame and fortune, but literature often criticizes the rich and praises the poor. Of course, the rich criticized in literature are those who are unkind despite their wealth or have become rich through illegitimate means; the poor praised are those who, despite their poverty, do not lose their dignity.
With a little recollection, we can think of many typical characters in literature. When shaping their personalities, writers often use wealth and rank as touchstones to test them, in addition to trials of life and death and tests of love and hate. Those who withstand the temptation of wealth and rank are naturally true gentlemen; those who cannot succumb to temptation become villains, lackeys, traitors, or accomplices. Of course, there are many literary works where the protagonist uses the power of money to exact revenge, settle grudges, and achieve their goals. Some literary works allow their kind-hearted protagonists to have a wealthy and noble happy ending, thereby affirming the value of wealth and rank from a positive perspective.
Human desire is a black hole that cannot be filled; the poor have the desires of the poor, and the rich have the desires of the rich. In the tale of the fisherman's wife, her initial desire was merely for a new wooden basin, but after obtaining it, she immediately wanted a wooden house. With the wooden house, she wanted to be a noble lady; after becoming a noble lady, she wanted to be a queen; after becoming a queen, she desired to be the Empress of the Sea, making the goldfish that could fulfill her wishes her slave. This overstepped boundaries, like blowing a soap bubble too big—it inevitably bursts. Everything has its limits; once excessive, punishment follows. This is a simple philosophy of life and a law governing many things in nature.
Many folk stories with admonishing meanings remind people to restrain their desires. It's said that to catch monkeys, Indians make a wooden cage with food inside. The monkey reaches in and grabs the food, but with a fistful, it cannot withdraw its hand. To free its hand, it must release the food, but the monkey refuses to let go. Monkeys lack the wisdom to “let go.” Do people have the wisdom to “let go”? Some do; some don't. Some have it at times; others lack it at times. Some can resist the temptation of money but not of beauty; some can resist both money and beauty but not power. People always have something they can't let go of—that's human weakness and also the richness of human nature.
Chinese philosophy has never lacked such rationality and wisdom, but people always “forget to withdraw their hand when there's surplus behind them, and think of turning back when there's no road ahead.” Greed is human nature, or rather, the dark side of human nature. Relying on moral exhortation and literary preaching can make people somewhat sober but cannot fundamentally solve the problem.
To control human greed, the most direct and effective means is still the law. Law is like a cage; desire is like a beast. What human society has been doing for thousands of years is battling greed with law, religion, morality, and literature. However, there are occasional incidents where beasts break out of their cages and harm people, and a relative balance is generally maintained. Friendly relationships between individuals require restraining desires to achieve; peaceful relations between nations also require restraint of desires. An individual's loss of control over desire may lead to murder; a nation's loss of control over desire can lead to war. Therefore, it's evident that a nation controlling its desires is even more important than individuals controlling theirs.
In human society, besides the temptations of money, fame, and power, there is another greatest and fatal temptation—the allure of beauty and sexual desire. This issue seems unrelated to women, but it actually is. Historically, wars have been waged over the contest for a beautiful woman, and some rulers have lost their kingdoms because of beauty. Absolutely negating sexual desire is, of course, wrong because without this desire, human society cannot continue. Throughout China's dynastic histories, rulers generally held a negative attitude toward human sexual desire. Though they were often hypocritical—keeping harems filled with concubines—common folk were expected to uphold heavenly principles and extinguish human desires. Romantic love was viewed as a monstrous evil. Such views are reflected in the laws and morals of feudal dynasties. Regarding human greed for wealth and power, literature aligns with law and morality. But concerning sexual desire, especially when elevated to love, literary works often sing a different tune, sometimes even playing the role of cheerleader. China has “The Peony Pavilion” (《牡丹亭》), “Romance of the Western Chamber” (《西厢记》), “Dream of the Red Chamber” (《红楼梦》); abroad, there is “Lady Chatterley's Lover” (《卡特莱夫人的情人》). This is also an eternal theme in literature. Without desire between men and women, without emotions and love, it seems there would be no literature.
Undoubtedly, poverty and wealth, along with desire, remain the main contradictions in today's world—the root of human suffering or joy. In recent years, Chinese people's material lives have greatly improved, and individual freedoms have considerably relaxed compared to before. Yet people's sense of happiness hasn't significantly increased. Due to unfair wealth distribution, the vast wealth amassed by a few through illegitimate means has led to a wealth gap that has become the main factor affecting social stability. The arrogance and extravagance of these illegitimately wealthy upstarts provoke hatred among the lower classes, forming a strong anti-rich sentiment. The collusion between the rich and powerful breeds various evil policies and injustices, adding an anti-official sentiment to the public psyche. These sentiments, propelled by modern means like the internet, surge in massive waves, causing certain individuals and classes to fear the online world and somewhat restrain their misconduct.
In such times, our literature actually bears a significant responsibility—the responsibility of saving the earth and humanity. We must use our works to tell people, especially those who have gained wealth and power through illegitimate means, that they are sinners and that the gods will not bless them. We must use our works to tell those women who own a thousand dresses and ten thousand pairs of shoes that they are guilty; we must tell those men who own dozens of luxury cars that they are guilty; we must tell those who have purchased private jets and yachts that they are guilty. Although in this world, having money allows one to act recklessly, their wanton behavior is a crime against humanity—even if their money was earned legally. We must use our literary works to tell these upstarts, speculators, plunderers, frauds, clowns, corrupt officials, and tyrants that we are all in the same boat. If the boat sinks, whether you're wearing a famous brand laden with jewels or are penniless in rags, the outcome is the same.
We should use our literary works to convey many fundamental truths to people. For example, houses are built to live in, not to speculate on. If houses are built but not inhabited, then they are not houses. We need to remind people that before humans invented air conditioning, not more people died from heat than now; before the invention of electric lights, there were fewer cases of myopia than today; before television, people's leisure time was just as rich; with the advent of the internet, people's minds have not stored more useful information than before; before the internet, there seemed to be fewer fools than now. Through literature, we need to let people know that convenient transportation has made travel less enjoyable, instant communication has made correspondence less satisfying, food surplus has made eating less flavorful, and the ease of sex has robbed people of the ability to love. We need to tell people through our works that there's no need to develop at such a rapid pace, no need to make animals and plants grow so quickly—when they grow too fast, they don't taste good, lack nutrition, and contain hormones and other toxins. We need to convey that the pathological development of science, spurred by capital, greed, and power, has caused human life to lose much of its charm and is fraught with crises. We need to tell people to take it easy and slow down—use only half of your cleverness and leave the other half for your descendants.
We must use literary works to tell people that the most fundamental materials sustaining human life are air, sunlight, food, and water; everything else is a luxury. Of course, clothing and housing are also necessary. We need to tell people that humanity's good days are numbered. When people are in the desert, they'll realize that water and food are more precious than gold and diamonds; when earthquakes and tsunamis occur, they'll understand that no matter how luxurious villas and mansions are, they are mere lumps of mud in the mighty hands of nature. When humans have tormented the earth to the point of being uninhabitable, notions like nation, race, political parties, stocks—all become meaningless. Naturally, literature becomes meaningless, too.
Can our literature curb human greed? The conclusion is pessimistic. Despite this pessimism, we cannot give up our efforts because it's not just about saving others; it's also about saving ourselves.
[Note: This is a speech delivered by Mo Yan (莫言) at the East Asian Literature Forum on December 4, 2010. This version has been abridged.]
Source: Phoenix New Media