Ruyu Hung

Jackson and Kwak (2026) editorial raises a thought-provoking question: Is the philosophy of education Western? (Jackson et al., 2026; Jackson & Kwak, 2026). From my own perspective as a university ...

This collective writing, led by Peters and co-authored by members of the PESA executive, is grounded in a shared commitment to thinking and writing together in response to the complexities of our time. Against a backdrop of political unrest, ecological crisis, and epistemic uncertainty, the piece explores how philosophy of education might be reimagined through relational, collaborative, and dialogic practices. Rather than offering a singular argument or unified voice, the text unfolds through a polyphonic structure—multiple perspectives interwoven in tension and conversation. Writing itself becomes a philosophical act: not merely the expression of thought, but a form of co-becoming, an invitation to dwell with difference. In this way, the piece resists the isolating norms of individual academic production and proposes a more generous, collective intellectual life. The writing does not resolve contradictions but holds them open—embracing ambiguity, complexity, and the friction that comes from thinking across difference. It calls for a philosophy of education that is not just reflective but responsive; not merely abstract but situated and ethical. Co authorship here is more than method—it is a stance, a way of being with others through thought. By enacting a practice of collective writing, the authors model an approach to educational philosophy that foregrounds dialogue over declaration, resonance over resolution. The result is not a closed thesis but a shared philosophical space: one marked by generosity, care, and attentiveness to the multiple crises that shape our educational futures. This is philosophy in a new key—less about finding answers, more about composing new ways of thinking and being, together.

This collective writing turns to East Asia not merely as a geographic or cultural region, but as a philosophical space through which to reimagine the project of education. Drawing on the traditions, tensions, and transformations of East Asian societies, the contributors open a conversation about how local sensibilities, ethical traditions, and socio-political conditions can inform a broader, more situated philosophy of education. The piece resists flattening East Asia into a coherent identity or unified voice. Instead, it foregrounds complexity and contradiction: the collision of Confucian legacies with neoliberal reform, the negotiation of tradition and modernity, and the ethical demands placed on educators amid rapidly changing social contexts. These reflections are not offered as definitive statements about the region, but as openings: ways of thinking otherwise about education, power, and philosophical responsibility. Collective writing becomes, in this instance, a form of regional listening. Through the interplay of multiple voices and perspectives, the piece challenges dominant, often Western-centric narratives in educational philosophy. It invites readers to consider how East Asian thought might not simply supplement global philosophy of education, but reshape its foundations. The writing is attentive, careful, and dialogic. It does not argue for a single philosophical model, but for the value of philosophical multiplicity rooted in place and history. In doing so, it contributes to a more relational and postcolonial framing of educational thought—one that resists universalism and embraces the partial, the contextual, and the contingent. This is not just a reflection on East Asia; it is a reflection from East Asia—one that offers a vital contribution to how we might think, write, and educate in more plural and connected ways.

Zhuangzi's stories of craftsmen are unusual and inspiring. They ostensibly describe how craftsmen practise various skills in extraordinary ways. Actually, at the heart of the process is the pursuit of dàoful well-being. This chapter starts with Zhuangzi's most cited and visited story, Cook Ding, in which the cook describes a developmental course about how he acquires the amazing skill of butchering oxen. The most illuminating and fascinating part of the story is about the end stage at which the cook attains the dào when he achieves and fulfils the mastery skill successfully. The end state of dào is also the state of dàoful well-being. To me, the story of Cook Ding is about the process and the aim of education. The Dàoist state of well-being refers to living contentedly in an effortless, nonself-conscious, natural way. According to Zhuangzi, practising the skill is a Dàoist way of pursuing well-being. This chapter will discuss the educational implications of the activity of practising skills in three aspects: first, wúwǔo (nonself), which refers to the private state of the individual master; second, xiusheng (cultivation of the body), which involves the bodily exercise and the interaction with the physical world; and third, yănsheng (nurturing life), which indicates the optimal functioning of dàoful well-being, such that the individual and the surrounding world can be benefited.

The chapters of this book have together given very different and diverse perspectives to East Asian educational philosophy in relation to nature and art. The topics covered range from skill acquisition in Daoist philosopher Zhuangzi, Japanese calendar art and the ritual of feelings, Japanese garden architecture, collaborative poetry, translational experiences between the language of man and that of nature, the Confucian classical Six Arts, the embodiment theory and the Kyoto school, and the case study of heritage art-based education in Korea, all depicting an exuberant and luxuriant foliage of the current East Asian philosophy of education. This book highlights the intertwinement of nature, art, and education in East Asian cultures from ancient times to the modern era. However, in the Introduction, I explained the significance of the concepts of nature and art crossing East Asian cultures without apparently discussing the concepts such as ‘education’, ‘learning’, ‘teaching’, ‘being taught’, and ‘schooling’. The reason is that in East Asian cultures—with the main reference to classical Chinese thought—‘education’ is always implied in philosophical speculations. By ‘education’ I mean the purpose and the process of education. Before going into this point, let me first unpick Chinese terms related to education including ‘教育’ (jiàoyù), ‘教’ (jiào or jiao), and ‘學’ (xué) from the perspective of etymology.