“Eastern philosophy” is a convenient label, but it is a rough one. It usually covers the philosophical traditions of China, India, Japan, Korea, Tibet and Southeast Asia. These traditions are at least as different from one another as any of them is from Greek philosophy. Confucius and the Buddha lived around the same time, but they spoke different languages, asked different questions and never heard of each other. Treating them as one “Eastern” outlook is a little like treating Aristotle and an Aztec priest as one “non-Asian” view.

Limits of the label

The label has three main problems.

• It lumps together very different traditions. Chinese philosophy centers on society, government and the cultivated person. Much Indian philosophy centers on the self, knowledge and liberation from the cycle of rebirth. Each contains fierce internal debates.
• It defines them by where they are not. “Eastern” only makes sense from the standpoint of Europe. Scholars have also criticized a long European habit of picturing Asia as mystical, timeless and irrational, in contrast to a supposedly rational West. That picture was flattering to Europe and false to Asia, where logic, debate and argument flourished.
• It blurs “philosophy” and “religion.” In Europe, philosophy and theology were often separated. In Asia, many traditions are at once ways of reasoning, ways of life and religious practices. This does not make them less philosophical. Greek schools such as the Stoics were also ways of life.

Some European thinkers dismissed Asian thought. Hegel, for example, treated Chinese and Indian ideas as early, undeveloped stages on the way to European philosophy. Others were deeply impressed: the German philosopher Leibniz admired Chinese ethics and corresponded with missionaries in China, and Schopenhauer said that reading the Upanishads had been the consolation of his life. This course aims to avoid both dismissal and romantic admiration, and to present each tradition as its own best thinkers would.

An age of sages

A striking fact is that several great traditions arose at roughly the same time. Between about the eighth and third centuries BCE, the Upanishads were composed in India, the Buddha and Mahavira taught there, Confucius and Laozi's tradition emerged in China, the Hebrew prophets spoke in Israel, and the Presocratics began Greek philosophy. The philosopher Karl Jaspers called this the Axial Age. Historians debate how meaningful the pattern is, and whether the dates really line up so neatly. Still, it is a useful reminder that no single region invented careful thinking about how to live.

Common themes, carefully stated

With all those warnings, some recurring themes can be noted, as long as we remember that each has exceptions:

• A focus on practice: philosophy is meant to change how one lives, not only what one believes.
• Attention to harmony, whether in the family, the state, nature or the mind.
• Skepticism about a fixed, separate self, especially in Buddhism and Daoism.
• Great respect for teachers and texts, often with long traditions of commentary.

A note on words

Key terms such as ren, dao, dharma or dukkha are hard to translate. This course gives common English renderings but keeps the original words, because any single translation leaves something out. Names are given in the usual modern spellings (Pinyin for Chinese), with older spellings, such as Lao-tzu for Laozi, mentioned where they help.

Worked example: three ways to describe a library

Imagine a university library with a shelf labeled “Eastern Philosophy.” Mai, a new student, takes down three books: the Analects of Confucius, the Dhammapada, a collection of the Buddha's sayings, and the Bhagavad Gita.

She first assumes they share one outlook. Reading a few pages of each, she quickly finds differences:

• The Analects talks about family, government, ritual and how a gentleman should behave at court. It says little about rebirth or the soul.
• The Dhammapada talks about craving, the mind and the path to liberation, and treats family ties as a possible source of attachment.
• The Gita talks about duty, devotion to a divine Lord, and acting without attachment, in the middle of a war.

Mai then notices that the library shelves Plato, Augustine and Hume under “Philosophy” but puts the three Asian books together under a geographic label. She asks why. Would anyone shelve Plato and an Aztec text together as “Non-Asian Philosophy”?

Her professor suggests three better habits. First, name traditions specifically: Chinese, Indian, Japanese, Confucian, Buddhist. Second, notice the debates within each, such as Mencius against Xunzi or Buddhists against Vedantins. Third, compare carefully: the Gita and the Stoics both ask how to do one's duty calmly, while the Analects and Aristotle both stress habit and character. Such comparisons work best when each side is first understood on its own terms.

The label is still useful for finding books. It just should not do our thinking for us.