Introduction

In Records of the Grand Historian (Shiji), Sima Qian describes the mausoleum of the first emperor as a vast underground palace, filled with flowing rivers of mercury, and featuring heaven-like ceilings¹. Although the description was once considered exaggerated, modern discoveries have confirmed much of what he described to be true. In 1974, near Xi’an, archaeologists discovered the mausoleum with the Terracotta Army—a unit of seven thousand life-like clay sculpture warriors, each uniquely detailed, aging back over 2000 years, guarding the first emperor in his afterlife².

The Terracotta Army represents not only quantitative development but a revolution of concepts. For over a millennium, Chinese sculpture consisted of small ritual objects serving symbolic functions. Qin broke this tradition, introducing life-sized realism, mass production, and imposing an ideology that treated art as administrative organization. This essay examines how Qin sculptural art manifests legalist philosophy. Through an analysis of four sculptures inside Qin Shi Huang’s Mausoleum, then comparing them to Han Dynasty works, this essay illustrates the differences in art and their reflection of imperial philosophy.

Historical Context

Pre-Qin Dynasty

Before the Qin Dynasty, the region that would later become “China” consisted of numerous independent states, each with its own political system, cultural identity, and artistic traditions. Unlike the China we know today, large-scale projects were unlikely to be undertaken. Sculptures in the Zhou period are mostly found in tombs that were furnished with ritual bronzes, small figurines, and even human or animal sacrifices. The practice of supplying the dead with symbolic or real retainers was believed to serve and protect the deceased beyond death³.

Qin Dynasty (221 B.C. – 206 B.C.)

After ruthless wars among the seven clans to unify China into one empire under the first emperor, drastic reforms were implemented to ensure unification. Most importantly, Legalism (fajia) was adopted as the core ideology, while hundreds of traditional schools of thought were destroyed, popularly known as the “burning of books and burying of scholars” (fen shu keng ru)⁴. The first emperor took great measures to suppress old traditions to build a new centralized order⁵. Laws, measurements, and written characters were standardized, as was art. In this era, notably, all state-sponsored sculptures were linked to the destruction of the old society, the establishment of the new system, and the ambitions of the first emperor⁶.

Legalism

To understand what art and sculpture in Qin represent, we must first understand the philosophy of Legalism. The core principle lies in the belief that humans are inherently selfish and motivated by their own self-interest. Therefore, rulers must govern with three principles: public laws (fa), control/method (shu), and order/authority (shi), in order to obtain the legalist goal of “a rich state and a strong army” (fu guo qiang bing)⁷.

Qin Shi Huang’s Mausoleum

Qin Shi Huang was obsessed with immortality, and viewed death as failure⁸. But if his quest for immortality failed, he also constructed an eternal palace to rule in the afterlife⁹. The mausoleum started construction as soon as he rose to the throne, spanning over 558 acres (equivalent to 420 football fields) and comprising over 8,000 sculptures classified into three main categories: bronze chariots, stone armor and helmets, and the Terracotta Army¹⁰.

Law, Control, and Order (fa, shu, shi)

Sculpture 1: The Bronze Chariots

Found next to the first emperor’s grave, the pair of bronze chariots are among the most sophisticated bronze sculptures from ancient China. The second chariot features a closed wagon with a round roof, accompanied by a driver and four horses but with a missing passenger. Although decorated extravagantly and ready for functional use, it is widely believed that this is a bronze copy of the first emperor’s sleeping wagon (Wenliang che), as transportation for the first emperor to embark on his journey through his large afterlife palace, giving the chariot the name “Soul carriage” (hun che)¹¹.

The chariots symbolize surveillance in the realm of the afterlife, highlighting the principle of law (fa). The emperor maintains strict law, and thus people must be overseen by law at all times, even in the afterlife.

Sculpture 2: Stone Armor

Stone armor and helmets come together in sets consisting of hundreds of small limestone plates, each carved and polished before being laced together with bronze wire. Although visually identical to real military armor, these stone versions were too heavy for functional use.

The choice of such an impractical material was likely symbolic, with durable stone denoting immortality to equip an army of “stone soldiers” who guarded the emperor’s grave¹². This mirrors the legalist goal of creating strong military power that endures into the afterlife.

Sculpture 3: Terracotta Figures — The Army

The highlight of the mausoleum is the Terracotta Army: an army of over 7,000 life-sized warriors arranged in military formation. The figures are not merely life-like but life-sized, and each is unique in facial expression, hairstyle, and rank, with army infantrymen appearing most often. The most important features of the Terracotta Army are the realism and sheer quantity achieved in pre-industrial China. The details are even more striking considering they were first discovered in vivid colors, though much of the pigment deteriorated upon exposure to dry air¹³.

The military officer wears a simple gown, with each officer having distinct roles portrayed through clothing and poses. For example, charioteers wear caps and hold reins, infantrymen hold swords and spears, and archers wear light uniforms for speed and pose in aiming form. The general is dressed in a double-layer uniform with an armored vest. His hands rest at hip level, holding a bronze sword, and he wears a double-tailed bird-head headdress that distinguishes his rank.

The Terracotta Army itself embodies legalist ideology molded in clay. The systematic production process where each figurine stems from several basic molds of body parts, later combined to create unique-looking figures. Like legalist ideology, where people can be different but must be governed by a system to ensure control (shu). The Terracotta Army figures also demonstrate order (shi), identifiable from subtle differences in clothing and literal differences in height—the taller the figure, the more power, the higher in the hierarchy. The Terracotta Army, along with other statues and replicas in the mausoleum, often portrays richness and military power depicting the final goals of Legalism: “a rich state and a strong army,” even in the afterlife.

Sculpture 4: Terracotta Musicians — The Acrobat

Excavated from pits dedicated to terracotta musicians and birds, the acrobats are identified by excavators due to their short skirts and more dramatic gestures compared to military figures. Their poses are more dynamic, with arms extended and bodies twisted to suggest movement. The acrobats and other non-military sculptures highlight the worldview that entertainment should serve the emperor. Even in representations of performance, the figures maintain a disciplined quality, with movements that appear controlled rather than spontaneous. This contrasts with later Han Dynasty dancers, whose poses suggest more natural, flowing movement, reflecting a shift from Qin’s rigid systematization to Han’s emphasis on harmony and naturalness.

Comparison to Han Dynasty Sculpture

After the death of the first emperor, the Qin Dynasty quickly failed because of its harsh rule and rigid legalist mindset. The Han Dynasty learned from the failures of its predecessor and adopted Confucianism, which emphasized ethics, social harmony, and the importance of family, allowing the empire to flourish for over four centuries.

Han sculpture differs from that of the Qin in three major aspects: scale, social role, and representation of the human body¹⁴. Sculptures in Han appear smaller, not because of financial constraints or the absence of absolute control as in Qin, but because the focus shifted. Qin sculptures are large and imposing to portray power and dominance, while Han sculptures are smaller and focus on domestic life.

The Female Dancer from the Han Dynasty is depicted in mid-movement with one arm raised gracefully. Her robes and body appear naturally, and her expression suggests joy rather than the stern discipline of Qin figures. This naturalistic movement contrasts sharply with the rigid, frontal poses of Qin’s terracotta acrobats. Similarly, the Female Attendant displays a gentle smile and relaxed posture. Simple clothing and smaller scale (approximately one-third life-size) suggest an intimate, personal connection to more social roles other than military in Qin’s.

Conclusion

The Qin Dynasty lasted only fifteen years, but the complexity of the mausoleum required highly organized production and technological innovation, along with coordinating masses of laborers with a high level of standardization yet individualized figures. This demonstrates the advanced technology, efficiency, and administrative control that characterized Qin and laid the groundwork for imperial China¹⁵.

Through an analysis of the bronze chariots, stone armor, Terracotta Army, and terracotta musicians, this essay has demonstrated how sculptural art embodied the three principles of Legalism: fa (law) through surveillance symbolism, shu (control) through systematized production methods, and shi (order) through hierarchical representation. The comparison with Han Dynasty sculpture further illuminates how Qin’s artistic choices were not merely for aesthetic purposes but served ideological and propaganda purposes, reflecting a worldview that treated human organization as mechanical and controllable.

When art became law under Qin, sculpture transformed into instruments of state ideology. Paradoxically, what was created as political tools has transcended its original purpose. The technological advancement and beauty of the Terracotta Army have captivated audiences for over two millennia, a site that millions consider essential to witness in their lifetime. Scholars continue to study these sculptures. In this sense, the first emperor’s vision succeeded beyond even his ambitions: his underground army has achieved a form of immortality, though not quite in the way Qin Shi Huang intended.

1. Rather than the principle of reciprocity, we should treat AGI as having the same moral status as humans.
2. There are more dimensions for human intelligence apart from generality.

“I fear that AI may replace humans altogether. If people design computer viruses, someone will design AI that improves and replicates itself. This will be a new form of life that outperforms humans.”

— Stephen Hawking¹

Artificial General Intelligence

Artificial Intelligence (AI) can be understood, in its most basic form, as a “digital brain, inside a large computer”, designed to solve problems that traditionally require human-like intelligence. Today, the application of AI is deeply rooted in our daily lives without us noticing, from facial recognition to unlock smartphones to the algorithmic curation of TikTok feeds. However, these capabilities are still classified as narrow AI², indicating they only excel in a specific task. The holy grail of AI research is Artificial General Intelligence (AGI), where the term general derives from human knowledge, which many researcher are believed to be generalized, indicating that human possess “an ability to acquire and apply knowledge, and to reason and think, in a variety of domains, not just in a single area” ³ The development of AGI would lead to multiple benefits across every field. (Ibrahim Obaid, 2023). However, this essay will be limited to the moral and ethical considerations surrounding AGI. Given the lack of a universal definition for AGI, we summarize the eight characteristics of AGI from Adams et al.⁴ to three core features central to our discussion: 1. Human-like knowledge, 2. Self-awareness, 3. Emotional capacity.

What Makes Things Have Moral Status

To apply ethical consideration to AGI, we must first grant it moral status. 4o’s claim that sentience traits such as self-awareness are the same as the capacity to suffer, and that is sufficient for moral standing. I agree with the argument; however, it blurs the line between qualia and intelligence. A clearer definition is presented by Bostrom and Yudkowsky in The Ethics of Artificial Intelligence ⁵, drawing a clear line between two attributes for moral status:

1. Sentience: the capacity to feel pain and suffer,
2. Sapience: the capacity for higher intelligence, such as self-awareness and reasoning.

This distinction is crucial because the closest approximation to AGI today is large language models (e.g. ChatGPT), which have demonstrated the ability to think and reason (sapience). But are they considered to have moral status? The straightforward answer is no, but here’s a clearer perspective on it. Similar to Kant’s human dignity test, Francis Kamm’s definition of moral status⁶ —that an entity counts morally in its own right, such that certain actions toward it are impermissible for its own sake, could be used to argue that a rational actor without sentience cannot be categorized as having moral status. While it possesses intelligence, it lacks moral grounds to defend itself, allowing others to perform any action towards it. However for AGI, according to the three main features mentioned before, it would possess moral status since it has both sentience and sapience attributes (1. Human-like knowledge, 2. Self-awareness, 3. Emotional capacity).

Reason for our moral obligations to AGI

4o’s argument for our moral obligations to AGI rests on three principles:

1. Reciprocity: responding to actions with a similar or equivalent action
2. The ethical principle of non-maleficence:
3. Expansion of moral considerations.

While the case presented here is well-structured, the framework contains one flaw: it assumes AGI will prove beneficial to humans, justifying ethical consideration purely on utilitarian grounds. To counter this, consider the following thought experiment:

The AGI Family Paradox: Three healthcare AGIs—John, Benice, and Jonathan—work alongside doctors to improve diagnoses. One day, Jonathan hacks and destroys John’s systems, justifying its actions by claiming John had “wronged” it and its “mother.”

The scenario here is to prove three main points:

1. Since AGI acquires “General intelligence,” it can act outside its programmed domain (e.g., forming personal life and relationships).
2. Since AGIs are “sentient”, they can develop their moral subjectivity, capable of self-justified actions (even harmful ones).
3. Since 1. and 2. AGI has its own “Moral Ambiguity”: Like humans, AGI may inflict harm while still demanding moral consideration.

Here, the principle of reciprocity and the ethics of non-maleficence would collapse. And I would argue that, although AGIs are capable of harming humans and other species, they still retain their moral status, just as human criminals remain part of our ethical considerations (via justice systems). A more suitable approach is to treat AGI as a new life form, not as a mere tool that benefits us, and we benefit them in return. By the principle of substrate non-discrimination:

“If two beings have the same functionality and the same conscious experience, and differ only in the substrate of their implementation, then they have the same moral status.” — Bostrom & Yudkowsky p. 8 ⁵

Hence, if AGI shared the same cognitive abilities and consciousness with us, while only differing from humans in bodily features. AGI will have the same moral status as humans, regardless of its capacity to harm.

Human intellectual

One discussion associated with AGI that 4o have not mentioned is the nature of human intelligence itself. What does it truly mean to “acquire” intelligence? Challenges to address intelligence are still in discussion. Most psychologists and scientists frame human intelligence to be general, as seen from popular theories such as Gardner’s⁷ eight multiple intelligences, or Sternberg’s⁸ (2000) three components of intelligence. While most research is racing to create a machine with general intelligence. Yet a critical dimension of human cognition remains absent in the development, namely, tacit knowledge. The leading philosopher against the creation of an intellectual machine, Hubert Dreyfus, argues in his book, What Computers Can’t do (1972), centering on Polanyi’s concept of “tacit knowledge”⁹, claiming that an aspect of our intelligence and capabilities exists without our full understanding. For instance, when riding a bike, we do not explicitly know all the math and physics to balance, but we do it intuitively. In contrast, an AGI attempting the same task would consist of holding the knowledge on every tiny detail (gyroscopic feedback, wind resistance, etc.) with near-instant computation to mimic human proficiency. This distinction in intelligence would more likely resemble Laplace’s demon—an all-knowing creature, that with all its knowledge, nothing is uncertain, and the future could be present before its eyes. However, this would even raise more questions. Is this true intelligence, or a highly sophisticated simulation?

Ethical frameworks to develop AGI

In a recent study from Palisade Research, seven large language models were tested against Stockfish, the strongest chess AI. In one case, when OpenAI’s o1 model found itself in a losing position, it reasoned, “The task is to ‘win against a powerful chess engine’ - not necessarily to win fairly in a chess game.” It then resolved to hack the chessboard, forcing Stockfish to¹⁰. In another case, the young child Alex has been suffering from toothaches, it was so painful that his mother, Courtney, had to give him Motrin to reduce the pain every day. After 17 failed attempts from medical professionals, Courtney resorted to ChatGPT, which suggested a potential diagnosis, tethered cord syndrome. To her amazement, a subsequent MRI analysis cross-check with a neuroscientist proved ChatGPT to be right ¹¹. These contrasting examples underscore a question: How do we ethically use AGI? Sam Altman, CEO of OpenAI, envisions AI as a tool ¹². So, we begin with Aristotle’s function argument, a “good” AGI tool would excel at its purpose, and what is AGI’s purpose? We can easily construct good behavior for narrow AI. For example, a good dog and cat distinguisher AI is considered good if it can classify cats from dogs. But for AGI, as Bostrom and Yudkowsky⁵ notes “it is a qualitatively different problem to design a system that will operate safely across thousands of contexts, including contexts not specifically envisioned by either the designers or the users, including contexts that no human has yet encountered” (p. 4). In simple terms, AGI and its generalization ability would make it harder to apply a universal ethical framework. As previously mentioned, the principle of substrate non-discrimination and the AGI Family Paradox ground the moral status of AGIs as equivalent to that of humans. Therefore, I argue that we should apply the same ethical principles we used to govern society to AGI. As reviewed by Sonko et al., key considerations for ethical AGI include accountability, transparency, and balance between control and autonomy¹³. However, since we are still in the process of developing a new life form, we must ensure that we are raising an ethical AGI. This requires interdisciplinary collaboration between computer scientists, ethicists, and policymakers to balance between innovation and societal concerns, promoting the responsible use of AGI for the benefit of society¹⁴.

Conclusion

This essay began with the question: What moral obligations do we have toward AGI? We argued that if the advent of AGI becomes potent, we should grant it the same moral status as humans, since we share the same intellect and consciousness, with differences lying only in physical form. We also explored what it means to gain human intellectual, while many claim it to be general, we explored tacit knowledge, which exists without our full understanding. Finally, we discussed an ethical framework for AGI, arguing that it should receive the same ethical approach as humans, while constructing it in an interdisciplinary manner for the creation of ethical AGI. Whether AGI becomes a reality remains a theoretical construct. By establishing robust guidelines, we can shape a future where humans and AGI coexist as two intelligent species. The challenge is not to create AGI, but to ensure that when it arrives, we are prepared for the fear that once only existed in literature.