Imagine a tiny seed buried in the soil, ready to burst into life at the slightest tug of sunshine and rain. Mencius paints human nature much the same way. He argues that moral sprouts—compassion, shame, courtesy, and a sense of right and wrong—lie dormant in every person, waiting for the right conditions to flourish.

One famous anecdote involves a child teetering on the edge of a well. Without a second thought, anyone witnessing that scene would rush forward, heart pounding, to save the youngster. No lessons in ethics needed; compassion wells up instinctively. According to Mencius, that instantaneous pang of concern proves the mind’s natural tilt toward goodness.

These “four beginnings” form the blueprint of virtue. When nurtured—through education, community support, or inspiring role models—they evolve into full-fledged qualities: benevolence, righteousness, propriety, and wisdom. Much like seedlings that need tending, these innate tendencies require a favorable environment. Recent global responses to crises—from spontaneous neighborhood food drives during the pandemic to climate activists planting trees—underscore how people often default to kindness when given encouragement.

Mencius also highlights how neglect or toxic surroundings can stunt moral growth, leading to crooked behavior that hardly reflects the heart’s true potential. It’s a bit like leaving a sapling in a concrete planter—roots will twist, searching for a crack to escape.

This view turns the “blank slate” theory on its head, proposing instead that every individual carries sparks of virtue from birth. Modern psychology’s discoveries about empathy’s biological roots—mirror neurons lighting up at another’s distress—seem to echo Mencius’s ancient insights. Whether in small acts of everyday generosity or large-scale solidarity movements, those moral buds repeatedly prove their resilience.