65: Profound Integrity
Introduction
Verse 65 is frequently cited to justify authoritarian readings of Daoism and interpreted as meaning that people must be kept ignorant to be governed. This reflects a deep misunderstanding of the verse and the Daoist cosmology from which it emerges.
The early Mawangdui versions make clear that this verse isn’t about ruling others. It’s about dismantling the internal architecture of conceptual control. Specifically, how we relate to knowing something and what happens when we prioritize conceptual abstractions over reality.
This verse reveals two structural modes—knowing and not-knowing—as complementary functions that shape our ability to align with the Way. Investigating how these two operate in harmony is Profound Integrity itself. And through that Integrity, all things return to resonance.
Translation
Thus it is said:
Those who weave the Way,
do not do so through “conceptualizing ‘people,’”
but through their not-knowing.
Indeed, “people” are difficult to align
because of their “knowledge.”
Therefore, by knowing the country,
know the country’s traitor;
Through not-knowing
know the country’s Integrity.
Persist in knowledge of both
and investigate patterns.
Persistent participation in investigating patterns,
This is Profound Integrity.
Profound Integrity is deep and far
In relationship to it
phenomena always return
unto Great Harmony.
Commentary
Thus it is said:
Those who weave the Way,
do not do so through conceptualizing “people,”
but through their not-knowing.
Picking up where verse 64 left off, the text now addresses the deeper question: How does non-doing actually function?
The first step is recognizing that we typically operate from concepts that are abstracted from reality. Doing so reduces all of life, particularly ourselves and others, to something static and fixed rather than the dynamic unfolding it is. This is “conceptualizing ‘people.’”
Even without digging into the deeper implications— such as the inner multiplicity of the self or the idea that “people” are an illusion— we recognize that preconceived notions of ourselves or others are rarely helpful. What is?
The openness and curiosity of “not-knowing.”
“Not-knowing” is my rendering of 愚 (yù), a term commonly translated as “stupid” or “ignorant” but better understood as simple-mindedness. In the Daoist sense: receptive, uncarved, beginner’s mind. A consciousness defined by humility.
In any case, once we’ve mistaken a concept for reality, we begin mistaking control for harmony. The following phrase describes the result.
Indeed, “people” are difficult to align
because of their “knowledge.”
The character for “knowledge” is 知 (zhī) and is often taken to mean intelligence or understanding. But in Daoist usage, it refers to something subtler: the activity of grasping, defining, and fixing that we encountered as “naming” in verse 1. Knowledge becomes a kind of noise because it replaces immediacy with interpretations that are functionally useful enough that we forget to hold them with “not-knowing.”
Remember that “people” operates on multiple levels and refers to both internal aspects of ourselves and interpersonal relationships.
Therefore, by knowing the country,
know the country’s traitor;
Through not-knowing
know the country’s Integrity.
This is the pivotal turn in the verse.
“Knowing the country” calls us to be aware of the movement of conceptual imposition as a natural process in service to our existence. If we aren’t careful, these interpretative impositions take over, undermining our ability to function in Integrity (i.e., profound alignment with unfolding reality). This misalignment isn’t necessarily active resistance; it can simply be a subtle distortion via outdated belief structures that influence our participation in events.
“Traitor” (賊) is a personification of this conceptual knowing as a form of subterfuge in the system. By reflecting on how we develop concepts, how those concepts shape our experience of our self, and how the self that momentarily appears influences what we feel, think, say, and do, we can proactively account for the distortions that occur in “knowing.”
Not-knowing is our capacity to stop creating waves in the web of life long enough for it to put itself in order. This is like the oft-cited metaphor of a glass of silty water. If we stop stirring it, the silt settles to the bottom, and the water becomes clear.
Persist in knowledge of both
and investigate patterns.
But the verse doesn’t ask us to reject knowing. It introduces polarity: knowing reveals the critical distinctions; not-knowing restores the possibility of functioning in Integrity with those distinctions. One aspect creates (ideally healthy) frontiers; the other resolves them.
Each mode has a function. But we create disharmony if we can’t recognize how each mode’s unique function entwine to create to the unfolding tapestry of our lives. On the other hand, by maintaining awareness of these dynamics, we come into Profound Integrity.
The first verse evokes this interplay when it says:
verse 1
The unnameable is the embryo of existence.
The act of naming gives birth to all things.
Become desireless and discover the mystery of life.
Through desire, behold its frontiers.
Both in combination – this is the mystery.
The most profound of mysteries.
All that is precious is found through this gate.
Persistent participation in investigating patterns,
This is Profound Integrity.
While incredibly dense and difficult to parse, this phrase is one of the most forceful statements in the treatise. Ultimately, what is Weaving the Way? It is just the cultivated capacity to use knowing and not-knowing in their proper relationship to attune to life’s unfolding processes. Unifying these seemingly paradoxical states into a persistent state of being-becoming is the entire point of this practice.
Profound Integrity is deep and far
In relationship to it,
phenomena always return,
unto Great Harmony.
Phenomena – all we experience – will inevitably return to Great Harmony when we return ourselves to Profound Integrity.