The Confucian Dilemma: Virtue Versus Profit

For centuries, Confucianism had maintained an uneasy relationship with commerce. The ancient tradition emphasized moral cultivation over material gain, creating what many modern observers see as an ideological barrier to economic development. The Analects of Confucius famously warned: “The gentleman understands righteousness; the petty man understands profit.” This philosophical stance became institutionalized during the Han Dynasty when Emperor Wu made Confucianism the state orthodoxy in 136 BCE, establishing an enduring tension between ethical ideals and economic realities.

Yet by the Northern Song Dynasty (960-1127), this centuries-old paradigm began to shift dramatically. As merchant ships filled Chinese harbors and urban markets bustled with activity, intellectuals started reexamining Confucianism’s rigid separation of morality and commerce. The commercial boom of the Song period – often called China’s “medieval economic revolution” – forced a profound reconsideration of traditional values.

The Song Dynasty’s Radical Thinkers

Among the most vocal challengers to orthodox Confucian views stood Li Gou (1009-1059), a Northern Song philosopher who boldly declared: “How can we not speak of profit? Without profit, human life cannot be sustained. How can we not speak of desires? Desires reflect human nature.” This direct challenge to Confucian orthodoxy marked a watershed in Chinese economic thought. Li argued that suppressing discussions of profit amounted to denying fundamental human nature.

The Southern Song (1127-1279) saw even more radical developments through the “Practical Learning” (Shixue) school represented by Chen Liang (1143-1194) and Ye Shi (1150-1223). Chen famously stated: “Why do people live? Because they have desires. Desires inevitably lead to competition, as people constantly seek more.” Ye went further in criticizing Dong Zhongshu’s Han Dynasty maxim that “the virtuous man pursues righteousness rather than profit”: “At first glance this appears admirable, but upon closer examination it proves utterly impractical. The ancients benefited others without claiming merit, thus their morality shone brightly. Later Confucians following Dong’s teachings divorced morality from practical results, reducing virtue to empty words.”

Scholars Turned Merchants: A Social Transformation

This ideological shift manifested in remarkable social changes. Contemporary records describe examination candidates combining study with commerce: “Scholars traveling to the capital for examinations would bring local specialties to sell, returning home with profitable goods from the metropolis.” Even high officials engaged in trade, with some “wearing official robes while running commercial enterprises, transporting prohibited goods like tea, salt, and incense by boat and cart to accumulate wealth daily.”

The phenomenon of literati abandoning scholarly pursuits for business became widespread. Scholar Zhang Wangzhi “wandered the Yangtze and Huai River regions, enduring hardships to make a living without regret, refusing when urged to seek office.” Wang Lie “repeatedly failed the imperial examinations and turned to accumulating wealth through business.” While historian Yu Yingshi identified this “scholar-to-merchant” movement as a late Ming phenomenon, its origins clearly trace back to Song times.

The “Four Occupations” Reconsidered

By the Southern Song, traditional views of social hierarchy faced serious challenges. The ancient “four occupations” classification (scholars, farmers, artisans, merchants) had always placed merchants last. But Song thinkers increasingly argued for occupational equality. Zheng Zhidao asserted: “All four are essential livelihoods for the people.” Ye Shi declared: “Only when the four occupations mutually benefit each other can civilization flourish. The idea of suppressing commerce to emphasize agriculture is incorrect.” Huang Zhen went furthest, stating that all four groups were “equally common people.”

These views predated by centuries the famous Ming Dynasty thinker Huang Zongxi’s (1610-1695) argument that “industry and commerce are both fundamental.” The fact that Huang needed to restate these principles in the 17th century suggests a regression in attitudes during the intervening Yuan and early Ming periods.

The Moral Counterbalance: Neo-Confucianism’s Role

The commercial boom inevitably produced social tensions. Zhu Xi (1130-1200), the great synthesizer of Neo-Confucianism, expressed deep concern about Zhejiang’s profit-driven culture: “People in Zhejiang today calculate advantages too meticulously, becoming deceitful. The problem has reached the point where they will do anything for profit.” His famous debates with Chen Liang about righteousness versus profit reflected broader anxieties about commercial society’s moral consequences.

Rather than seeing Neo-Confucianism as anti-commercial, we should understand it as providing necessary ethical checks on the excesses of a booming market economy. The tension between the “Practical Learning” school’s emphasis on utility and Neo-Confucianism’s moral focus created a dynamic balance – much like a vehicle needing both engine and brakes.

The Age of Consumption: Song Dynasty Materialism

Commercial prosperity bred a vibrant consumer culture that shocked traditionalists. Contemporary proverbs captured the zeitgeist: “Money is like honey – even a drop tastes sweet” and “With money you can command demons; without it, demons mock you.” Southern Song scholar Li Zhiyan lamented: “In my observation, money is universally loved and inevitably contested. It causes resentment among relatives, ruins officials’ reputations, kills traveling merchants, and sparks violent market disputes. Its sudden comings and goings create instant poverty or wealth. Generally it brings more harm than good.”

The service economy flourished as never before. Wine shops, teahouses, singing halls, and entertainment quarters proliferated, supported by an unprecedented concentration of wealth. Sima Guang (1019-1086) noted with disapproval that “recent customs have become especially extravagant – runners dress like scholars, peasants wear silk shoes.” By the Southern Song, even middle-class families imitated aristocratic fashions, with women’s hairpins sometimes costing 100,000 cash. As Li Gou observed: “In ancient times, brocade patterns weren’t sold in markets to prevent encouraging extravagance. Now common households wear heavy brocades, thick damasks, and sheer silks in countless styles.” This consumer demand stimulated luxury manufacturing and urban commerce.

Government Responses and Economic Realities

Song authorities repeatedly issued sumptuary laws attempting to curb extravagance. Emperor Ningzong’s 1195 edict complained: “Extravagance grows daily worse, with no distinctions in clothing, food, or utensils. After recent fires, all construction must follow regulations emphasizing simplicity. Gold-threaded and jade-inlaid clothing is prohibited.” Yet these measures proved largely ineffective. As memoirist Meng Yuanlao countered: “Luxury lifts people’s spirits.” This view anticipated 18th-century European arguments that luxury spending stimulated economic growth.

The most prosperous regions – Zhejiang and Sichuan – showed the most conspicuous consumption, continuing a pattern seen since Tang times when Yangzhou and Chengdu dominated commerce. The Song economic transformation thus produced not just new production methods and market networks, but also profound cultural changes in attitudes toward wealth, social status, and consumption.

Lasting Legacy: Commerce and Confucianism Reconsidered

The Song commercial revolution’s intellectual aftermath reveals a complex trajectory. While Ming thinkers like Huang Zongxi and Wang Yangming are often credited with rehabilitating commerce within Confucian thought, their arguments echoed Song predecessors. The real anomaly appears to be the intervening period’s regression to stricter “agriculture-first” policies.

This historical arc suggests that commercial development naturally generates ideological adaptations, but these changes can be reversed when economic conditions shift. The Song experience demonstrates how traditional value systems can evolve to accommodate new economic realities while maintaining ethical frameworks – a lesson with enduring relevance for societies navigating rapid commercialization today.