The saying 'of the thirty-six stratagems, running away is best' appears in the Book of Southern Qi (completed 537), in the biography of the general Wang Jingze, proving the phrase is at least medieval. The received Thirty-Six Stratagems as a six-chapter book surfaced only in the twentieth century, from a 1941 street-stall copy in Sichuan, and scholars generally date its compilation to the Ming or Qing. Swiss sinologist Harro von Senger's study and translation (Strategeme, 1988) established it in the West.
Popular editions present the Stratagems as an ancient companion to Sun Tzu, complete with heroic battlefield anecdotes attached to each ruse. The anecdotes are mostly drawn from much earlier histories like the Records of the Grand Historian and the Romance of the Three Kingdoms, retrofitted as illustrations.
The collection's deeper move is taxonomic: it treats deceit not as sin but as a finite set of forms, each with conditions of use. Reading it as ethics misses the point; it is a morphology, thirty-six shapes a lie can take, learnable like conjugations.
If the classic of deception has no author and no certain date, what does its anonymity teach about its subject?