The Tao Te Ching
智慧出，有大偽；
六親不和，有孝慈；
國家昏亂，有忠臣。
When the Great Tao is abandoned, benevolence and righteousness arise.
When wisdom and cleverness emerge, great hypocrisy ensues.
When the six family relations are not in harmony, filial piety and affection are advocated.
When the nation is in chaos and confusion, loyal ministers appear.
Lao Tzu argues that the explicit promotion of moral virtues is actually a sign that natural harmony has already been lost.
In a state of perfect Tao, people act kindly without needing a word for "kindness" because it is their natural state.
When we start codifying rules about how to be "good" or "righteous," it implies that people have forgotten how to be good spontaneously.
It is like a healthy person who never thinks about "health routines" versus a sick person who is obsessed with medicine; the presence of the remedy proves the existence of the disease.
Society celebrates heroes of morality, but their existence points to a deeper societal failure to live simply and honestly.
Think of a company that constantly talks about "integrity" but usually suffers from deep trust issues.
Similarly, a couple that posts excessively about their "perfect love" on social media is often compensating for private insecurity.
True wisdom is intuitive and unforced, whereas calculated cleverness often leads to deception and performative behavior.
When "wisdom" becomes a commodity or a tool for status, it separates from the heart and becomes mere cleverness.
This intellectualization of life creates a gap between who we are and who we pretend to be, forcing us to wear masks to fit social expectations.
We create a layer of "great hypocrisy" where actions are measured by optics rather than intent.
The Taoist view is that genuine action flows from the gut, unmediated by complex mental gymnastics or the desire to appear smart.
When we try too hard to be clever, we lose the simple truth of the moment.
Consider politicians who use focus groups to decide what they believe rather than leading from conviction.
Or think of marketing campaigns that manufacture "grassroots" movements to sell products, simulating authenticity rather than embodying it.
The visibility of specific virtues like "filial piety" or "loyalty" only becomes necessary against a backdrop of dysfunction and chaos.
We tend to admire the loyal minister who saves the state, but Lao Tzu asks why the state needed saving in the first place.
If the family were naturally harmonious, no one would need to be praised for being a "good son" or "good daughter"—it would just be the way things are, unnoticed like the air we breathe.
The emphasis on these roles suggests a struggle is taking place.
Therefore, the goal is not to cultivate more "loyal ministers" to fight chaos, but to return to the root harmony where such extreme loyalty is not required.
A workplace that rewards "firefighters" who fix emergencies often ignores the quiet employees who prevent fires from starting.
A relationship that thrives on makeup sex after big fights is less stable than one with consistent, quiet peace.
The Problem: You work in an organization that has plastered its "Core Values" of Integrity and Teamwork on every wall. Despite these posters, the actual environment is cutthroat, political, and fearful. Management constantly holds seminars on "trust," yet employees feel monitored and micromanaged every day. The loud insistence on values feels like gaslighting.
The Taoist Solution: Recognize that the heavy marketing of "culture" is a symptom of the Tao being lost. Instead of cynically disengaging or buying into the hypocrisy, focus on small, authentic interactions with your immediate peers. Do not rely on corporate slogans; rely on natural human decency. By dropping the performative language and simply doing your work with quiet honesty, you create a pocket of reality in a landscape of artificiality.
The Problem: A family is constantly in conflict, yet at gatherings, there is a forced emphasis on "respect" and "tradition." Parents demand performative displays of affection or obedience to cover up the lack of genuine emotional connection. The more the relationships fracture, the more rigid the rules about "how a family should behave" become, causing resentment.
The Taoist Solution: Stop trying to force the external appearance of a "happy family" through rules. The Taoist approach is to abandon the label of "filial piety" and look at the root disharmony. Drop the demand for respect and instead offer simple presence and listening. When you stop enforcing the role of "parent" or "child" and simply interact as two human beings without expectations, the tension often dissolves.
The Problem: In the age of social media, you feel pressured to constantly announce your moral stances, charitable acts, or political opinions. You worry that if you don't post about a cause, people will think you don't care. This leads to a cycle of anxiety where your public persona becomes a curated mask, and your actual inner life feels hollow.
The Taoist Solution: Understand that "great hypocrisy" arises when wisdom is performed rather than lived. The Taoist solution is to practice "hidden virtue"—doing good deeds where no one will ever know. If you help someone, do not post about it. If you have a belief, live it through action rather than declaration. By removing the audience, you remove the artificiality and return to the "Great Tao."