Prof Daniel A. Bell: Ancient Chinese thoughts asked questions that still matter today

Professor Daniel A. Bell has been called many things: a “China apologist”, a “useful idiot” and, in Chinese, a “foreign member of the Fifty Cent Party (五毛党)” — a foreigner accused of defending or promoting the Chinese Communist Party (CCP)’s positions.

The Canadian political philosopher is not particularly bothered by the labels.“If I were a ‘foreign fifty-cent-er’, why would my books be censored in China?” he jokes, referring to the difficulties he has encountered when publishing Chinese editions of his work.

For Bell, the more interesting question is not whether he is “for” or “against” China, but whether there really is a single political model that can be applied everywhere.

That question has shaped his career spanning more than three decades in Asia — and which began, unexpectedly, in Singapore.

From Singapore to Shandong

After completing his doctorate at Oxford University in 1991, Bell joined the National University of Singapore. His academic training was firmly rooted in Western political philosophy, particularly communitarianism, which challenged the emphasis on individual autonomy in some strands of liberal thought.

Singapore offered him his first serious encounter with Confucianism. He began comparing communitarianism with Confucian political thought, becoming particularly interested in ideas such as harmony, ritual, meritocracy and social responsibility.

From Singapore, he moved to Hong Kong, Beijing and eventually Shandong, describing the journey as “gradually getting closer” to the birthplace of Confucianism.

Today, Bell is chair professor of political theory at the University of Hong Kong’s School of Governance and Policy. His latest book, Why Ancient Chinese Political Thought Matters: Four Dialogues on China’s Past, Present, and Future, published in 2026, brings together Confucian, Daoist, Mohist and Legalist thinkers in imagined debates over corruption, political leadership, war and family obligations.

Bell was back in Singapore recently to attend the International Conference on Cohesive Societies, organised by Nanyang Technological University. During his visit, he sat down with Lianhe Zaobao’s A Guest Arrives (《有客到》) for an interview, discussing his latest book and his evolving views on Confucianism, political meritocracy and the relationship between China and the West.

The book is less an attempt to revive an ancient ideology than an experiment in political dialogue. Bell does not believe that Confucius, Mencius or Han Feizi has a ready-made answer for modern society. What remains relevant, he argues, is the fact that many of the questions they debated 2,000 years ago are still with us.

Freedom of speech, from a Confucian perspective

One of Bell’s more provocative arguments is that the case for freedom of speech does not have to be imported from the West.

He points to the Confucian principle of he er bu tong (和而不同) — “harmony without uniformity”.

For Bell, this can be understood as a reminder that leaders need different voices around them. Disagreement is not necessarily a threat to authority; it can help expose problems before policies become entrenched.

He recalls the Covid-19 pandemic as an example. Bell was in China during the early stages and says he considered the response relatively effective for a period. But after the Omicron variant emerged, he and some scientist friends realised that the earlier approach would become increasingly difficult to sustain. Some scientists, he says, were nevertheless reluctant to express their concerns publicly.

The lesson, in his view, is that political leaders can benefit from hearing uncomfortable opinions.

“If everything goes well, the leader gets all the credit. If everything goes wrong, the leader gets all the blame,” he says.

A political system that concentrates both praise and blame at the top may therefore need stronger channels for internal disagreement.

Bell acknowledges that censorship in China has become stricter. He has experienced it himself, including difficulties surrounding the publication of his books. But he does not regard freedom of expression as a simple Western-versus-Chinese cultural divide.

He believes greater openness could eventually emerge through generational change, improvements in international relations and changes to governance incentives. Younger Chinese people, he argues, have been exposed to a wide range of intellectual traditions and are less likely to accept restrictions on speech.

What makes a good leader?

The same contextual approach shapes Bell’s thinking about political meritocracy and what makes a good leader.

He argues that terms such as “worthy” and “capable” are difficult to define objectively. Yet there are some basic standards: a leader should not be corrupt or misuse public resources for personal or family benefit. Beyond that, competence depends on circumstances.

He is also sceptical of relying on a single leader’s judgement. A subordinate may appear capable because he is good at flattering a superior, while colleagues and junior staff may have a very different view. Bell believes merit therefore needs to be assessed through multiple channels.

He does not, however, regard direct elections as the only legitimate way of choosing leaders. In a small community, he says, one-person-one-vote can work because people know the candidates personally. At the national level, China’s size and complexity may require different mechanisms.

His views have evolved. Bell says he was more optimistic about China’s political trajectory earlier in his career. The 2018 constitutional changes removing presidential term limits have made him more concerned about checks on power and the mechanisms for selecting leaders. He nevertheless hopes that collective leadership remains an important constraint.

Limits of anti-corruption

Strict laws and punishment can be effective in the short term, he says. But relying too heavily on fear can have unintended consequences: officials, particularly those in middle-ranking positions, may become increasingly unwilling to take risks or make decisions.

Long-term reform therefore requires something beyond enforcement. Bell invokes the Confucian concept of shendu (慎独) — self-restraint when no one is watching. He recalls an incident in Shandong when someone offered him gifts while there was nobody around to supervise him. He could have accepted them without expecting immediate consequences, but he felt uncomfortable and turned them down.

For Bell, that is what moral education is supposed to achieve: people behave properly not simply because they fear punishment, but because they have internalised a sense of right and wrong.

This is also why he resists simplistic readings of Confucianism.

His wife experienced what he describes as a male-dominated culture in Shandong, and Bell acknowledges that such attitudes are sometimes attributed to Confucianism. But he argues that philosophical traditions can be distorted in practice. Confucianism does not necessarily mean blind obedience, just as liberalism does not necessarily mean selfish individualism.

Great philosophies, he suggests, can be vulgarised by society.

From ‘faculty panda’ to Confucian scholar

Bell’s years at Shandong University gave him a close look at how Chinese institutions operate.

He became dean of the School of Political Science and Public Administration in 2017, an appointment he partly describes as “advertising”. The Qingdao campus secretary, a descendant of Confucius, wanted to promote Confucianism while internationalising the university.

Bell jokingly describes himself as a “faculty panda” — a symbolic foreign figure who could help represent the institution.

But the job also changed his understanding of leadership. He had previously identified three qualities of a good leader: intelligence, emotional intelligence and morality. Shandong added a fourth — energy.

Leaders, he realised, need the stamina to work long hours, attend endless meetings and respond to a constant stream of WeChat messages.

After five years, Bell stepped down to return to research. His experience also reinforced his belief that political institutions cannot be understood separately from culture and context.

Neither China nor the West is monolithic

Bell is equally critical of what he sees as simplistic assumptions on both sides.

Some Western observers, he says, imagine China as a uniform society in which people simply follow the leadership. But China is highly diverse, with significant differences between Shanghai, Beijing, Hong Kong, and urban and rural communities.

He also thinks Chinese people can misunderstand “the West” by treating it as a single entity. Canada and the US, he points out, are very different societies.

The deterioration of US-China relations has made such nuance harder, Bell argues, because political debate increasingly falls into a “you are either with us or against us” mentality.

He hopes shared global challenges — including the risks posed by increasingly powerful artificial intelligence — might eventually create incentives for cooperation. His optimism is cautious rather than absolute.

Life between traditions

Bell’s Chinese name, “贝淡宁”, comes from the phrase: “By remaining detached from worldly distractions, one can clarify one’s purpose and pursue one’s aspirations with composure (淡泊以明志，宁静以致远).” This implies an ideal of calmness and detachment.

When asked whether it describes him, he laughs and says, “It is an ideal, not necessarily my personality.”

After more than 30 years of teaching and writing across Asia, Bell shows no signs of stepping back from political debate. He says that when he eventually retires, he might move towards a more Daoist way of life.

For now, however, he considers himself to be living broadly according to a Confucian way of life — one defined above all by social responsibility.

That may explain why he continues to return to the same question. Not whether China should become more like the West, or whether the West should become more like China, but whether political traditions can learn from one another without assuming that one of them must ultimately be the universal answer.

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