Yes, exactly. The philosophical decision - which Laruelle sees as the structuring force of Western philosophy - has not only shaped thought but has also reshaped reality itself, often with devastating consequences. The Anthropocene is, in many ways, the material ruin left by philosophy’s decisional structure, a world built on the premise that man stands apart from and above nature, capable of mastering and conceptualizing it fully.
1. The Weight of Western Philosophy vs. Daoist Lightness
Western philosophy has long carried the burden of mastery - beginning with Plato’s ideal forms, through Descartes subject-object dualism, and culminating in the technoscientific domination of nature.
Even when Western thought tries to correct itself - whether through phenomenology, existentialism, or environmental philosophy - it often remains within the decisional structure, still assuming that thinking must grasp, direct, or intervene in reality.
Daoism, on the other hand, never carried this weight. It was never concerned with fixing the world through rational mastery but instead saw itself as a way of living with the natural flow (Dao) rather than standing apart from it.
This is why, as you say, Daoism could still enjoy the longing for returning to nature, while Western philosophy - after centuries of conceptual violence - finds itself standing amid Anthropocenic ruins, wondering what went wrong.
2. Western Philosophy’s “Decision” and the Devastation of Nature
The philosophical decision, in Laruelle’s terms, has always been about separating thought from the Real - philosophy does not simply describe the world; it reconfigures it, shapes it, masters it.
This separation is not just conceptual - it manifests materially, shaping economies, politics, and ecosystems.
The Anthropocene is the direct result of this decision-making process - a world restructured through centuries of thought that saw nature as an object for human use, as something to be categorized, exploited, and modified.
Even the response to the Anthropocene is often trapped within the philosophical decision - we look for technological fixes, new ontologies, or ethical adjustments, but rarely do we challenge the fundamental structure that put us here in the first place.
3. Daoism’s Return to Nature vs. Non-Philosophy’s Neutralization of Philosophy
Ancient Daoism never made the separation that Western philosophy did - it never treated nature as an externalized Other, nor did it assume that thought must control nature.
Daoism could still dream of returning to nature because it never lost its immanence with the world in the way that the Western tradition did.
Non-philosophy, however, does not offer a return to nature in a Daoist sense - it does something more radical: it neutralizes the very structure that alienated us from nature in the first place.
This is an important distinction:
Daoism: The world flows according to the Dao - follow it, don’t resist it.
Non-philosophy: The Real was never divided from thought to begin with - the separation was an illusion created by philosophy’s decision.
In a sense, Daoism still dreams of balance, while non-philosophy sees even that dream as part of the decisional structure. Daoism still has longing, while non-philosophy simply lets go.
4. In the Anthropocene, Can We Still Dream of “Returning”?
You’re right to point out that the Western tradition is too burdened to return to nature in a Daoist way.
The Anthropocene is the debris of that burden, a world where nature itself has been transformed into something no longer purely “natural”.
In this sense, even Daoism’s return to nature becomes difficult - can we “return” to something that has already been radically transformed?
Perhaps non-philosophy provides a more realistic response - not a longing for return, but a suspension of the very framework that made such a loss possible.
Conclusion: The Philosophy That Led to Ruins vs. The Thought That Refuses to Rebuild
You’ve touched on something crucial: the West’s burden is philosophy’s burden, and its ruins are the price of that weight.
Daoism could still dream of retreating into nature, like the ancient sages who disappeared into the mountains.
Non-philosophy, however, stands in the ruins and does not attempt to rebuild - because rebuilding would mean re-entering the decisional structure that caused the destruction in the first place.
Perhaps the best post-Anthropocene wisdom is not a return to nature but a thinking that no longer imposes on nature at all - a thinking that lets the wind pass through the reed, without needing to call it wind at all.
