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W hen I first arrived in China， I visited Beijing， Nanjing and Shanghai. That was in the 1990s. I came from Germany， where populations are not dense， and the green movement had already produced increasingly healthy environments. A textbook philosopher with grand ideas about Chinese harmony that were common among Western academics in the 1970s， the encounter irritated me. China’s eastern cities had just begun to rebuild， and it looked as if war had been declared on nature.
Since those times， a few years have brought vast changes. China’s modernization has included a “green” imprint. Sustainable development has become a driver of innovation. In some areas of clean energy development， it seems that China is leaving Europe behind. After all， change for better or worse is driven by political decisions and economic incentives. Where does the culture fit in？ Or， to look at it another way， are the resources for Sino-European cooperation stronger than prudence， and rooted in humanity more deeply than in pragmatism？
The glare of cultural differences emerges when we try to translate something commonly understood into another language. As everyone in China knows， both ancient Confucian and Taoist traditions advocate“天人合一.” How do you translate that into English？ The textbook says： “Heaven and human are one.” Is this a factual statement， some deep mystery， or the expression of a general purpose？ Alternatively， the“unity of nature and human” can indicate an ecological awareness of indivisible causal interconnectedness. Then， the notion that “nature and human should become one” appeals to moral norms and the life-long drive to become whole. Or， “heaven and human ultimately is one，” which contemplates the existential reverence for the entirety of things we can neither control nor comprehend. Finally， it can be translated as an imperative for action—“Let heaven and human be one，” so that our lives make sense.
These varying interpretations of “天人合一” are not alternatives but nuances within a continuum of one thought. We can approximate understanding—not once and for all but by extension of knowledge through experience of related action. We try to do this， in Chinese and in German or in English. Native Chinese take more understanding for granted， while foreigners must work hard to accommodate such an apparently odd array of ideas. Explaining meaning， from what we understand as cultural citizens， adds depth. Exploring a naive interpretation in terms of a foreign culture can open minds for unexpected and unusual possibilities that might stimulate the original language. Context determines how to interpret the actual meaning in terms of social reality. However， it is important that we resist the impulse to reduce implicit textual connotations according to custom. This is because the plasticity of these semantic fields sets our minds on cultural learning. By seeing conventional usage of “天” （nature） and “人”（human） as historical artifacts， we can appreciate the knowledge they convey as well as the questions they raise beyond single symbols. This reflection is in itself a performance： Nature and humanity， in their operation， bind and unfold the two sides that integrate us， as naturally human and humanly natural， proceeding through biology and culture. This is how cultural encounters create opportunities for enquiries into the real laboratory of the cultural nature of us social animals.
It is not just the semantic image of the clause “天人合一”but the diversity of messages and stories that can be expressed when unpacking the approximate meaning in various applications. The notion gathers the threads of the great web work of unified practice. It applies the knowledge of the right way “道” （Tao） in manifesting the patterns of“經” （classical） knowledge for all， at all times. No other living language carries the heritage of history and social knowledge in its subtle wealth as Chinese. This makes translation into other distinguished languages such as English， French， or German difficult—how can they， even with Latin roots， compensate for a millennium of language-weaving？ On the other hand， it should be the mission of contemporary culture to cultivate deep historical knowledge to foster appreciation of the current value of human evolution.
The sharp divide between nature as object and heaven as master that dominates a European cultural mainstream， in which humans claim ability to distinguish good from evil“as privileged endowment from God，” can hardly be mended. It emphasizes antagonistic attitudes towards nature as something to conquer and control. Human comfort is placed outside evolution， and we cannot feel safe and sound in natural conditions. This existential “thorn in the flesh，”according to Danish thinker Soeren Kierkegaard （1813-1855）， keeps us vulnerable， uneasy， and industrious. This mindset supplies technical rationality with powerful tools to analyze and manipulate humanity and nature. It nurtures and exploits the tensions between human selves and their desires to compensate the loss of heart with technical and material progress. It became a cultural asset in industrialization， for nation-building， scientism and colonialism that carried much of European globalization in the 19th century. Camus interpreted this as the absurdity of the human condition， which keeps us pointlessly happy， toiling for purposes we can never accomplish. Then，“Heaven on Earth” can never be real， and humanity fulfills itself in aspirations and transformations and self-denial. Ultimately， as historian Paul Unschuld observed， even disease is defined by commercial value when health falls back to individuals.
Today， Europe and China are largely hybrid cultures of different design. The COVID-19 crisis has highlighted our capacity to learn. Cultural alienation between humanity and nature can only be reconciled when our sought ideals are immaterial and social at the same time. Materialism deepens alienation and makes us ill. Idealism will tilt us away from our natural balance. As urbanization determines lifestyles globally， we need determined efforts to embrace nature within ourselves—to appreciate how our metabolism， psychology and happiness depend on respect of balance and wholesome unity. Both Europe and China will get better when we mobilize and share our cultural wisdom.
Since those times， a few years have brought vast changes. China’s modernization has included a “green” imprint. Sustainable development has become a driver of innovation. In some areas of clean energy development， it seems that China is leaving Europe behind. After all， change for better or worse is driven by political decisions and economic incentives. Where does the culture fit in？ Or， to look at it another way， are the resources for Sino-European cooperation stronger than prudence， and rooted in humanity more deeply than in pragmatism？
The glare of cultural differences emerges when we try to translate something commonly understood into another language. As everyone in China knows， both ancient Confucian and Taoist traditions advocate“天人合一.” How do you translate that into English？ The textbook says： “Heaven and human are one.” Is this a factual statement， some deep mystery， or the expression of a general purpose？ Alternatively， the“unity of nature and human” can indicate an ecological awareness of indivisible causal interconnectedness. Then， the notion that “nature and human should become one” appeals to moral norms and the life-long drive to become whole. Or， “heaven and human ultimately is one，” which contemplates the existential reverence for the entirety of things we can neither control nor comprehend. Finally， it can be translated as an imperative for action—“Let heaven and human be one，” so that our lives make sense.
These varying interpretations of “天人合一” are not alternatives but nuances within a continuum of one thought. We can approximate understanding—not once and for all but by extension of knowledge through experience of related action. We try to do this， in Chinese and in German or in English. Native Chinese take more understanding for granted， while foreigners must work hard to accommodate such an apparently odd array of ideas. Explaining meaning， from what we understand as cultural citizens， adds depth. Exploring a naive interpretation in terms of a foreign culture can open minds for unexpected and unusual possibilities that might stimulate the original language. Context determines how to interpret the actual meaning in terms of social reality. However， it is important that we resist the impulse to reduce implicit textual connotations according to custom. This is because the plasticity of these semantic fields sets our minds on cultural learning. By seeing conventional usage of “天” （nature） and “人”（human） as historical artifacts， we can appreciate the knowledge they convey as well as the questions they raise beyond single symbols. This reflection is in itself a performance： Nature and humanity， in their operation， bind and unfold the two sides that integrate us， as naturally human and humanly natural， proceeding through biology and culture. This is how cultural encounters create opportunities for enquiries into the real laboratory of the cultural nature of us social animals.
It is not just the semantic image of the clause “天人合一”but the diversity of messages and stories that can be expressed when unpacking the approximate meaning in various applications. The notion gathers the threads of the great web work of unified practice. It applies the knowledge of the right way “道” （Tao） in manifesting the patterns of“經” （classical） knowledge for all， at all times. No other living language carries the heritage of history and social knowledge in its subtle wealth as Chinese. This makes translation into other distinguished languages such as English， French， or German difficult—how can they， even with Latin roots， compensate for a millennium of language-weaving？ On the other hand， it should be the mission of contemporary culture to cultivate deep historical knowledge to foster appreciation of the current value of human evolution.
The sharp divide between nature as object and heaven as master that dominates a European cultural mainstream， in which humans claim ability to distinguish good from evil“as privileged endowment from God，” can hardly be mended. It emphasizes antagonistic attitudes towards nature as something to conquer and control. Human comfort is placed outside evolution， and we cannot feel safe and sound in natural conditions. This existential “thorn in the flesh，”according to Danish thinker Soeren Kierkegaard （1813-1855）， keeps us vulnerable， uneasy， and industrious. This mindset supplies technical rationality with powerful tools to analyze and manipulate humanity and nature. It nurtures and exploits the tensions between human selves and their desires to compensate the loss of heart with technical and material progress. It became a cultural asset in industrialization， for nation-building， scientism and colonialism that carried much of European globalization in the 19th century. Camus interpreted this as the absurdity of the human condition， which keeps us pointlessly happy， toiling for purposes we can never accomplish. Then，“Heaven on Earth” can never be real， and humanity fulfills itself in aspirations and transformations and self-denial. Ultimately， as historian Paul Unschuld observed， even disease is defined by commercial value when health falls back to individuals.
Today， Europe and China are largely hybrid cultures of different design. The COVID-19 crisis has highlighted our capacity to learn. Cultural alienation between humanity and nature can only be reconciled when our sought ideals are immaterial and social at the same time. Materialism deepens alienation and makes us ill. Idealism will tilt us away from our natural balance. As urbanization determines lifestyles globally， we need determined efforts to embrace nature within ourselves—to appreciate how our metabolism， psychology and happiness depend on respect of balance and wholesome unity. Both Europe and China will get better when we mobilize and share our cultural wisdom.