Hope as Path: Roads Made by Walking
Created at: October 2, 2025
Hope cannot be said to exist, nor can it be said not to exist. It is just like roads across the earth. — Lu Xun
The Paradox of Hope’s Presence
At the outset, Lu Xun’s line refuses a simple yes-or-no about hope: it is neither fully present nor entirely absent. Instead, hope appears as a relation between action and possibility, coming into view only when people move. Like a horizon that recedes as we approach, hope is less an object to possess than a direction to follow.
Roads as a Metaphor for Making
Extending the metaphor, roads do not spring from the earth ready-made; they are worn into being by repeated footsteps. In the same way, hope emerges from collective practice rather than solitary wishing. Antonio Machado’s proverb—“Traveler, there is no road; the road is made by walking” (1912)—mirrors this insight, suggesting that pathways gain reality through use. Thus, what at first looks like emptiness becomes navigable when people commit to traversing it together.
Lu Xun’s Historical Moment
Historically, the image comes from Lu Xun’s story My Old Home (1921): “Hope cannot be said to exist, nor can it be said not to exist. It is just like roads across the earth; for actually there were no roads to begin with—only many people walking made them into roads.” Written amid the disillusionment of post-imperial China and the May Fourth ferment, the line resists both fatalism and naïveté. It argues that in bleak conditions, hope is not a mood but a method: persistent steps that carve a route where none seems available.
A Psychological Lens on Pathways
Psychologically, this aligns with C. R. Snyder’s Hope Theory (1991), which defines hope as agency (the will) plus pathways (the ways). People feel hope not when outcomes are guaranteed, but when they can see or create routes to them. In effect, walkers generate paths and, with them, agency. Studies in goal-directed behavior show that identifying multiple strategies—alternate “roads”—buffers against setbacks, reinforcing the sense that progress remains possible even when one route is blocked.
Collective Steps and Social Change
By extension, societies also make roads by walking. The Montgomery Bus Boycott (1955–56), the Dandi Salt March (1930), and the women’s suffrage campaigns exemplify how repeated, coordinated acts turn moral intention into navigable practice. Initially, the terrain looks trackless; over time, marches, meetings, and mutual support turn isolated efforts into a recognizable path. The transformation is cumulative: each step reduces uncertainty for the next traveler, converting improbable dreams into shared infrastructure.
Everyday Practices That Lay Track
In everyday life, the principle scales down to small, consistent actions. A neighborhood tool library, a weekly study circle, or regular contributions to open-source software all begin as uncertain experiments. Yet, as participation repeats, norms form, resources accrue, and a path appears. Practically, this means breaking long horizons into proximate steps, inviting companions, and documenting the route so others can follow—converting a private hunch into a public road.
Guardrails: Between Illusion and Despair
Finally, Lu Xun’s image also warns against two extremes. Illusion says the road already exists; despair says no road can exist. Václav Havel’s The Power of the Powerless (1978) reframes hope as fidelity to meaningful action rather than optimism about outcomes. Likewise, Camus’s Sisyphus finds dignity in the task itself. Thus, hope becomes an ethic of construction: neither a fantasy nor a void, but the steady making of paths that others may one day walk.