A few years ago, the college entrance exam essay prompt was the character “人” (person). If I had been asked back then, I would have said: “人” looks simple to write—just one stroke left and one stroke right—but to truly be a person is not as simple as writing those two strokes; instead, it involves all kinds of complex relationships. Yet now, I believe that a person in essence is as simple as the character itself.

      This simplicity is not a shallow reading of the word “simple”; rather, it means we should seek its origin. The origin of being human is actually very simple. The great principles people pursue are built upon this origin, just as the philosophers of the pre-Qin period stood on the root of our national culture—the foundation—and most later philosophical schools could not escape this groundwork. The same applies to people: the complex ways of the world and principles of conduct are all built upon a simple origin. Those great principles are, in fact, extensions of this origin, or rather, concrete interpretations of it. If we start from the fundamental principles of how to conduct ourselves, we will naturally find that being a person is not so difficult after all.

      Surely someone will say something like, “Society is so complex—how can being a person be simple?” This view is not exactly wrong, but it is not entirely right either, because we cannot understand the inner core from the surface of society, just as a general surgeon could never perform brain surgery. Therefore, we must let specialists handle their own fields and let brain surgeons do the surgery. Society is complex because of human factors; various desires drive people to push society forward and make it more complex. But if we look at it from another angle, lines are made of points, planes are made of lines, and society is made of individuals. If everyone could be open and honest, society would take on a different, simpler state, no longer so elusive. In reality, while we cannot say that everyone acts from the fundamental principles of conduct, we also cannot say that everyone in society is complex. With such a balance of “yin and yang,” we will naturally no longer find being a person so difficult.

      Arguing this way makes it seem like I strongly support the theory of innate goodness, as if I believe that human nature is inherently good, that people start from goodness and begin from the root. But in fact, I do not support the theory of innate goodness, nor will I debate whether it is correct or whether the theory of innate evil is correct. In my view, being a person should combine the wisdom of Confucius and Xunzi: we must believe that the root of being human starts from goodness, while also constantly correcting and educating ourselves. After all, the hardest part of a great tree to grow is its root. We must give it space, but also provide guidance.

      The Chinese character “人” is formed by one stroke left and one stroke right, becoming a person. It is both the shape of a person and the meaning of being human. One character teaches us so much, yet it seems nothing special at a glance. Isn’t this the unique charm of Chinese culture? A culture that is reserved and understated, yet always ready to bloom—special and beautiful.