On Difference, Social Generation, and the Void of the Universal ‘Legislator’

Difference seems closely related to generativity. Derrida’s différance, Deleuze’s philosophy of difference, and systems theory’s feedback mechanisms—all these different intellectual traditions point to the same observation: the more sensitive a system is to difference, the greater its capacity for evolution and creation.

This may help us understand a common phenomenon in human society: we are eager to construct hierarchies and social strata and to strive for “higher” positions. This construction of difference may be precisely the mechanism that sustains social generativity. In class societies, it is precisely these artificially constructed differences—maintained through laws, institutions, and violence—that drive competition, innovation, and historical development. Masters drive away slaves, capitalists pursue profit; this distorted and alienating drive does indeed bring technological progress, albeit accompanied by suffering and crises.

This is a form of action—deliberate intervention and construction. Humans choose this path largely because it gives us a sense of control: we are the “legislators” of this generativity; we make the rules, and we drive history.

But Marxism proposes another possibility: what if, by eliminating class exploitation, the driving force of generativity came from human freedom and creativity rather than external oppression? When material abundance reaches a high level, and labor becomes “the first necessity of life” rather than a means of survival, people would act out of curiosity, creative desire, and self-fulfillment. This intrinsic motivation is considered purer and more enduring.

This recalls Daoist wu wei (non-action). Heaven and Earth do not speak, yet the seasons flow, and all things grow spontaneously—this is a form of generativity that does not rely on external commands. Daoist wu wei is not inaction but acting without contravening nature, without forcing intervention. In this sense, in a society without class oppression, differences are no longer artificially constructed (like social classes) but naturally manifested (like individual talents and interests). Generativity does not depend on a “legislator” enforcing rules but arises from the system’s internal dynamics.

Here emerges a profound paradox. Humans favor the “active” (you-wei) model because we are the “legislators”—we make rules and feel in control. But the “non-action” (wu-wei) model requires relinquishing this position. More fundamentally, the universe itself has no visible “legislator.”

All the laws we observe—including F=ma in physics—are summaries of phenomena; they represent human reason, not the will of the cosmos. As Hume pointed out long ago, the sun could, in principle, rise from the west tomorrow; we cannot derive necessary future events from the past. What we see are structures generated by “laws,” but we cannot access the laws themselves, nor can we know whether a legislator exists or what its will might be.

This insight undermines the foundation of the “active” model. If even the universe lacks a knowable legislator, if even the “laws of Heaven” cannot be truly grasped, what legitimacy do we have in society as “legislators”? On what grounds can we claim that human constructions will better drive social generativity rather than distort or destroy it?

The Daoist response is: precisely because the legislator is absent, we should practice wu wei. We are part of the cosmos and therefore part of its will. By yielding and not forcing, we align with the larger flow. We need not become “legislators,” because our own life activity is itself an expression of the Dao.

Yet this is only a response, a stance. We cannot prove that wu wei is superior to you wei, just as we cannot prove the necessity of you wei. The absence of a legislator implies that there is no ultimate answer, no provably “correct” path.

Perhaps we can only acknowledge that this is an open question. The “active” generativity of class society indeed produces results, though accompanied by alienation and suffering; the wu wei of an ideal society may generate a purer form of generativity, but this remains an untested possibility. We grope in the dark, unable to determine which path leads where.

No correctness, no incorrectness. This is not the nihilism of relativism, but the recognition that, in a universe without a legislator, our thinking itself is a way of participating in generation. These ideas offer no answers; they are simply differences—and difference, perhaps, is the condition for generativity to continue.