The worldly detachment and engagement of readers

Author: Zhi Zhongyun
Publisher:
Publish Date: 2002-02-01
Features: The "detached" spirit is a retreat that maintains independent personality and a purifier of the mind. Therefore, it embodies traits such as eccentricity, tranquility, contentment with poverty, and open-mindedness. Without this spiritual retreat, everyone would resort to unscrupulous means to compete on the narrow path of officialdom, leaving only the sordid figures from The Story of the Stone Forest, and the moral and cultural landscape of China might have been entirely different.
Zhi Zhongyun, a scholar who studies international affairs, offers her unique insights into Chinese culture. This small book collects dozens of non-academic articles she has written since 1996, published intermittently in various newspapers and magazines.
Excerpt: A Brief Discussion on the Behavior and Civility of Americans
In the general perception, America seems to possess only material civilization but lacks spiritual civilization, which is a great misunderstanding. According to this logic, a nation's prosperity relies solely on material aspects—the so-called "hardware"—which is precisely the misconception held by some people in China today, as if the economy could develop independently of humanistic factors. Therefore, it was insightful of Mr. Hou Huasheng, editor of a journal on spiritual civilization, to select the topic of American spiritual civilization for his invitation to contribute. Under his persistent urging, I gladly took up the pen.
However, the topic is vast and rich in content, and it is difficult to cover comprehensively in a short essay. I will only touch upon some personal reflections. During my academic visits to the U.S., I interacted primarily with academic institutions, naturally focusing on this aspect. Someone asked me what I envied, and I replied that libraries and archives were too convenient—truly excellent. Of course, this reflects the emphasis on cultural and educational values. But I would like to emphasize the professionalism of the staff. First, they are highly familiar with their respective fields, as if listing prized possessions, and they have a clear commitment to serving readers, patiently answering questions and assisting with searches.
A particular incident left a deep impression on me: During my time as a visiting scholar in the U.S., I traveled to Washington D.C. for a temporary stay and spent two weeks researching archives at the National Archives. The person who assisted me was an elderly man with white hair and a beard. After learning about my research topic, he immediately introduced me to relevant materials in the archives. His thoroughness, attention to detail, and comprehensive approach far exceeded my expectations—he was both an excellent assistant and a mentor. It was evident that he had been in this position for many years, carrying a sense of professional pride.
What moved me deeply was that a few weeks after I returned to my home, I suddenly received a letter from him: "During your last visit, I noticed a box of relevant archives placed on a different shelf and failed to provide it to you. Please come to Washington D.C. again when it is convenient." The level of dedication he showed to a stranger like me left me astonished, and it made me even more diligent in my own research.
Importantly, this was not an exception. Such professionalism is, especially in supporting roles like library and archival work, where one rarely sees a lack of commitment to major tasks or disdain for minor ones, nor does one see resentment directed at the job. By extension, this is true across all professions. It is not to say that Americans are entirely satisfied with their current careers—on the contrary, their job mobility is far greater than in China, with many people "hitchhiking while looking for a new horse." But whether they like their jobs or not, as long as they are in a position, they must complete their tasks diligently—it is a matter of principle.
From my observations, maintaining this work ethic is certainly supported by certain regulations, but it is primarily rooted in a sense of self-discipline. I have rarely heard of bonuses being deducted arbitrarily. This may reflect a social consensus or a form of self-awareness. For example, in universities, while teachers are the mainstay and professors are highly respected, administrative roles like secretaries, logistics, and archival work are considered auxiliary. No one disputes this. Those in such positions are often university graduates. If they are dissatisfied, they can resign or pursue further education part-time, eventually entering the teaching profession. But before that, they must perform their current duties well.
Moreover, obtaining a degree and teaching at a university requires reaching a certain level of proficiency and labor, which is not suitable for everyone. Some may choose to withdraw from the challenge and instead focus on their current roles. This may seem ordinary, but fostering such a social atmosphere is crucial. This atmosphere is shaped by education from a young age. I have seen many American families where children are assigned small tasks daily, even trivial ones like cleaning their own tables or washing their own dishes, which must be completed. Adults often check to ensure the tasks are done and never do it for them. This instills a sense of responsibility from a young age, with phrases like "This is my task" and "You haven’t finished your task today" becoming common.
Additionally, while there are certainly distinctions in personal achievement and social status, the U.S. has far less discrimination or prejudice against certain professions compared to China. This may be related to its lack of feudalism and its emphasis on practicality. Americans are renowned for their advocacy of liberalism and individualism, which can also lead to misunderstandings. These two "isms" originated in Europe and carry specific meanings and historical contexts, which are beyond the scope of this discussion. In reality, they do not equate to indiscipline, whimsical behavior, or the idea of "individual freedom without organizational discipline."
I would like to emphasize particularly the aspect of social morality that I have observed. Anyone who has traveled abroad will notice that people in many countries—whether in Eastern or Western Europe, the U.S., or certain Asian nations—have a stronger awareness of protecting public environments than in China. Some achieve this through strict penalties (e.g., Singapore), but many rely on self-awareness and the concept of civic rights and responsibilities. For example, in China today, many people have moved into new homes and meticulously decorate their living spaces. Some keep their homes spotless, even requiring guests to remove their shoes at the door. Yet, once outside, public corridors, stairs, and walls are often filthy, and everyone turns a blind eye. New homes quickly resemble slums, creating a stark contrast with their luxurious interiors. The reckless destruction of public spaces, facilities, and green spaces outside buildings is even more heartbreaking.
In the U.S. (and elsewhere), the opposite is true. Public areas in ordinary apartment buildings are generally clean and well-lit, creating a pleasant atmosphere. No one dares to litter casually, even though notices about fines are rarely seen. As for personal homes, cleanliness varies depending on the individual. Some may be slovenly, leaving their homes in disarray, but that is their personal freedom. The line between the inside and outside of a home marks the boundary of freedom: personal habits cannot interfere with others' right to enjoy a clean environment. This is both a civic duty and a matter of public morality.
This sense of public morality is also cultivated from a young age. Once, I spent a holiday at an American friend’s home and, after dinner, we all went to a nearby park with two boys who wanted to set off fireworks. Afterward, as it grew dark, the entire family used flashlights to meticulously pick up every piece of firework debris scattered in the grass before returning home. Despite their mischievous nature, the boys showed no reluctance and completed the task diligently and naturally.
Americans certainly spoil their children, sometimes to the point of seeming overly indulgent. However, they must also fulfill their responsibilities and respect others' rights, avoiding harm to public interests. This is fundamental education. Within these bounds, individuals are free to express their personalities and creativity. Sometimes, I wonder why American children, from kindergarten to high school, seem far freer than Chinese children, never seen sitting in class with hands behind their backs in perfect order. Parents also interfere less. Yet, by adulthood, they exhibit stronger public morality and self-discipline. The secret lies in this cultivation of responsibility and the clear boundaries between personal freedom and respecting others' rights, integrated into their basic education.
When discussing spiritual civilization, it refers to the essence that elevates a nation or society toward goodness and prosperity, excluding the dross. This is self-evident. Due to space limitations, I cannot cover everything, but I have chosen a few points with targeted relevance, hoping to inspire readers and fulfill the editor's kind intentions in inviting contributions.