An Admission of Henpeckedness

 An Admission of Henpeckedness

I humbly observe that as the Yin (feminine) waxes and the Yang (masculine) wanes, the heroism of women becomes formidable; while men grow weak and women grow strong, the plight of husbands becomes pitiable. When the earthly principle of Kun overrides the heavenly principle of Qian, the authority of the husband falls; when the wife governs the inner quarters and controls external affairs, her influence is at its peak! The social order has indeed declined; is it because the world is filled with the fierce beauties of Yan and Zhao, or because there are too few upright and stout-hearted men in this land? This has been a lamentable truth since ancient times, and it is even more pronounced today.

I was originally a Confucian scholar from a family of high standing, confident in my own grace and beauty. How could I have expected to be matched with a "lioness from the east river"? She is the Great General of our inner chambers, radiating her own glory; while I, the Grand Marshal of those who fear their wives, have no rival in this regard. This is not because southern men are inherently soft, but rather because the winds of the north are exceptionally fierce. Like a fierce deity perched upon a white lotus throne, or a "lipstick tiger" reclining among red brocades.

A single word of provocation brings the weight of the stars crashing down; a momentary frown of hers is as terrifying as a mountain demon. I tremble even while sharing the bed-covers, and I am filled with trepidation when serving her meals. I follow her orders as if they were imperial decrees, listening and obeying her every word. I strictly adhere to the teaching of "the wife sings and the husband follows." When she breaks into a scolding, the best strategy is to act dumb; when she flies into a rage, one might as well accompany it with a forced smile. I must report my departure like a mourning ape wailing at the moon and show my face upon return like an angry horse rushing to its trough.

How shocking it is that I, who usually possess a voice like a booming bell, cannot make a sound in front of my wife. How pathetic it is that even if I were in a state of grand fury, my expression would instantly change upon entering the bedroom. What is truly in my heart? There are indeed reasons for this. Furthermore, my lady often suffers from the "sorrow of gathering firewood" (illness), while I, her official, constantly dream of the "joy of succession" (bearing heirs).

《懼內供狀》

伏惟陰盛陽衰，巾幗之雄可畏；女強男弱，鬚眉之婦堪憐。秉坤而乃以乘乾，夫綱以墮；治內更兼乎正外，妻道何隆！風斯下矣，豈世間多燕趙佳人；教且同焉，實宇內少昂藏男子。慨往古而已然，嘆近今之更甚。

某本儒生，家傳閥閱，自信美如城北，豈其配在河東。號閫內之大將軍，自他有耀；怕老婆之都元帥，舍我其誰？非關南國人柔，倍見北方風勁。鳩槃荼踞白蓮台上，胭脂虎臥紅錦叢中。

一言觸惱，分明太歲當頭；片語加嗔，儼似山魈破膽。抱衿裯猶存觳觫，侍飲食時切悚惶。奉令承教，早等綸音；諭旨之嚴，言聽計從。恪遵婦唱夫隨之訓，破罵總莫妙妝呆，動怒又何妨陪笑。出必告似哀猿唳月，反必面如怒馬奔槽。

可駭者平時聲若洪鐘，到妻前而不聞其響；可憐者縱爾勃然盛怒，入房中而忽改其容。誠何心哉！良有以也。兼之娘子每抱採薪之憂，官人常懷克紹之慶。

庠序之憂：從晚明塾師到人工智能時代的知識階層

 

庠序之憂：從晚明塾師到人工智能時代的知識階層

晚明之世，士子過剩，科舉失利者眾，遂多淪為塾師 。彼等之生涯，恆以「覓館」為先，憑託親朋、宗族之信用，方得一席 。然聘期苦短，歲輒一易，使其職業流轉不安，師道亦隨之日降 。對其而言，教書非為傳道，實乃「濟讀資生」之計 。

觀乎今日，博士文憑雖尊，然就業之難，竟與晚明塾師異曲同工。學子負笈多年，終歸於短期研究或兼職教席，如零工之轉徙，難求安穩。昔日之薦書，今化為繁重之論文指標與資助申請，然知識階層之貧困與焦慮，古今如一。

然今日之勢更為險峻。西方各邦生育率驟降，學子日稀，傳統教職之需日益萎縮。與此同時，人工智能突起，自學平台日新月異，求知者無需師承，亦可通曉萬物。昔日明季塾師尚需「市歡弟子」以固館 ；今之學者，則需與算術法規爭衡。夫師道之興替，明季已見端倪 ；及至今日，於少子化與機器智能之交夾下，知識階層之生存，恐將面臨千古未有之大變

The Intellectual Proletariat: From Late Ming Tutors to the AI Era

 

The Intellectual Proletariat: From Late Ming Tutors to the AI Era

In the Late Ming Dynasty, a growing class of scholar-officials found themselves in a state of professional precariousness. Often failing to secure government positions, they turned to "private tutoring" (shushi) as a means of survival. This existence was defined by "finding a post" (miguan), a process reliant on fragile social credit and short-term contracts that rarely exceeded a single year. For these men, teaching was not a realization of their lofty Confucian ideals but a desperate strategy for "supporting one's studies through teaching" (jiduzisheng).

Today’s PhD graduates face a strikingly similar landscape. Much like the late Ming tutors, modern doctoral holders often find themselves in an "academic gig economy," moving between short-term post-doctoral fellowships and adjunct positions with little hope of tenure. The social credit once required to find a post has been replaced by hyper-competitive grant applications and publication metrics, yet the fundamental instability remains.

However, a new set of pressures complicates the modern intellectual's plight. While Ming tutors struggled with an oversupply of scholars, today’s educators face a shrinking demand due to plummeting birthrates in Western nations. With fewer students entering the pipeline, the traditional institutional roles for high-level intellectuals are evaporating. Simultaneously, the rise of Artificial Intelligence and advanced self-learning platforms is challenging the very necessity of a human mentor. Just as the late Ming tutor was forced to "flatter the student and the parent" to secure a post, modern academics find themselves competing not just with each other, but with algorithms that offer personalized, immediate, and infinitely scalable knowledge. The "Way of the Teacher" (shidao), already perceived to be in decline during the Ming, now faces a structural obsolescence in a world where the seeker of knowledge can bypass the master entirely

覓館與生計：晚明塾師之流轉人生

 

覓館與生計：晚明塾師之流轉人生

明季社會變遷劇烈，士子生計亦隨之動盪。塾師之屬，處科舉與館席之間，其職業生涯恆以「覓館」為先，且受「聘期」之限，生活誠為不易 。

塾師之獲職，非徒憑文才，實賴社會信用之擔保 。諸如宗族、師徒、友朋及鄉緣等關係，於覓館之際，動輒扮演薦引與保任之責 。然隨晚明社會競爭日趨激烈，獲職之成本愈增，而席位之穩固益削 。

頻繁之「覓館、失館、再覓館」，遂成晚明塾師之常態 。此種流轉不安，深植「濟讀資生」之念，使其職業精神由「自我實現」轉向「生計考量」 。師道之所以日降，實與此職業地位之脆弱息息相關 。塾師雖勞心於教化，然終未能如他種職業群體，形成內在之聚合，徒留四方奔波之影，見證一代文人之困頓與無奈 

The Wandering Mentors: The Precarious Life of Private Tutors in the Late Ming

 

The Wandering Mentors: The Precarious Life of Private Tutors in the Late Ming

The Late Ming Dynasty was a period of intense social and economic flux, a reality reflected poignantly in the lives of private tutors, known as shushi. These educators, often unsuccessful candidates in the imperial examinations, navigated a professional landscape defined by "覓館" (miguan—the search for a teaching post) and the inherent instability of short-term employment¹.

Finding a position was rarely a matter of public advertisement; instead, it relied heavily on a complex web of social credit². Tutors depended on "social credit relationships" such as kinship, lineage, master-disciple bonds, and geographical ties to secure a place in a household³. These intermediaries acted as guarantors for the tutor’s character and scholarly competence⁴. However, as the era progressed and competition intensified, the cost of securing these roles rose significantly, while their stability plummeted⁵.

This precarious existence led to a common life cycle of "finding a post, losing it, and seeking another"⁶. Such instability fundamentally altered the professional spirit of the tutor class⁷. Rather than a path for self-actualization or the lofty pursuit of "the Way," teaching became a survival strategy—a means to "support one's studies through teaching"⁸. This shift contributed to the perceived decline of "the Way of the Teacher" (shidao) during the Late Ming, as the tutor became a wandering laborer of the intellect rather than a permanent fixture of moral authority⁹. Ultimately, unlike other emerging professional groups of the time, private tutors failed to form a cohesive professional identity, remaining fragmented by their constant struggle for economic security¹⁰.