Introduction

I love a good paradox. In clinical practice, a session seldom goes by where I do not seize the opportunity to share a relevant one with a patient.

Perhaps it’s their inherent rhetorical force in paradox. Maybe the power of paradox comes from their historical and cultural tradition.

Eastern philosophy is full of paradoxes. You can find paradox in the Tao Te Ching. Paradoxes are abundant in Zen koans–riddle-like stories that provoke enlightening insights. Paradox flows through the study martial arts. Derivative guru characters in pop culture, like Yoda, often speak in paradox.

The more ancient the tradition, it seems, the more riddled the culture is with paradoxical sayings (this is not a verified claim, but would be an interesting study!).

Whatever the reason, I’m sold on using paradoxes as a tried-and-true delivery mechanism life-changing wisdom.

What is a paradox?

“A statement that is seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense and yet is perhaps true.”

Merriam-Webster

The two aspects of paradox I’ll highlight are the following:

First, paradoxes are counterintuitive at best, nonsensical at worst. In the language of Merriam-Webster, a statement of paradox is “seemingly contradictory or opposed to common sense.” This feature of a paradox is not only interesting, but potentially useful. If something seems illogical, nonsensical, and/or counterintuitive, then the odds are that people don’t think that way. Paradox helps people think in new, helpful ways–ways that aren’t merely common sense.

Second, a paradox contains truth. As the definition

The way I’ll discuss paradoxes here is quite similar to the concept of “dialectics”. The term dialectic has become quite popular in psychology thanks to Marsha Linehan.

Linehan created a system for treating borderline personality disorder (BPD) called dialectical behavior therapy (DBT). The concept of dialectic is central to DBT because BPD sufferers tend to view the world in black-and-white, uncompromising ways.

I’ll use the terms “dialectic” and “paradox” interchangeably here. I apologize in advance to philosophy scholars, who will surely find this both inaccurate and offensive. But for conceptual clarity, I’ll differentiate between the two before I begin to use the terms interchangeably.

A paradox is a statement that appears wrong or nonsensical but is (or could be) in fact true.

A dialectic is a conversation–or dialogue–between two opposing points of view. A dialectic involves suspension of judgment, treating both sides as valid. Why do this? The longer one is able to hold two views in conversation, the sharper and more advanced understanding one finds on a topic.

Those may seem quite different. But conceptually they share important elements. Most importantly, paradox and dialectic share the features of holding two opposing/contradictory elements in tension, suspending judgment (not jumping to conclusions), maintaining an ethic of uncertainty, and seeking a higher–or perhaps more practicable–version of the truth.

Why are they so useful to therapists?

Clinicians use paradoxes and dialectics to no end because the challenges of life tend not to fall into neat and tidy bins. Our brain seeks order, winces at uncertainty, rejects nuance, and defaults to unequivocal assertions. Therapists know two things about this tendency:

1. That we do in fact have such a tendency; we assume something is right or wrong, black and white, good or bad. I.e., “It’s your fault or my fault, and I know damn well it’s not my fault.”
2. The synthesis is usually more accurate and easier to integrate into healthy relationships. That is, “We’re both right, and both wrong;” “Your point of view is valid, as is mine.”

Clinicians don’t have the secrets to life and are every bit as frustrated by the uncertainty and ambiguity of common life problems. Even though EVERYONE struggles living with shades of gray, trained professionals, the uncertainties of life are an integral part of personal and professional practice.

A good therapist welcomes the challenge of aspiring to live an integrated life, reconciling opposites and holding two competing ideas or emotions in tension. To the skilled clinician, that aspirational values helps her help you.

Paradox 1: It’s not your fault, but it is your responsibility

From a young age, parents, teachers, and authority figures make an effort to punish offenders as well as extract apologies and reparations from them.

Your brother hits you and steals your snack? Mom swoops in and forces Big Bro to return the snack and give you an apology.

The bully at school pulls your hair? Ms. Teacher doles out a detention and Bully’s mom makes him apologize.

Criminal robs a bank? The police arrest him, Prosecutor prosecutes, and Criminal serves time and does many hours of community service.

It’s satisfying when something approximating justice materializes. But what about the rapist? The murderer? The boss who subtly undermines you over the course of years? He costs you countless promotions and dollars earned. What about the husband who cheats on you, abuses you, and separates you from friends and family?

The damage from these tragic examples cannot be undone. No one can return a loss of dignity, bodily integrity and autonomy violently stolen. No one can restore a lost loved one, time and effort stolen, or trust broken.

Bad things happen to good people every day. Illusions of fairness may be a useful ideal for an evolved society. Yet, blind faith in social structures and systems to preserve fairness for all is naive fantasy.

To quote an extremely smart and successful guy I know: “Fair is the first two weeks of October.”

Now, there’s nothing wrong with seeking justice when feasible. (I.e., Is a conviction likely? How expensive will it be in time, money, and effort? Is this the kind of person who apologizes? Owns his mistakes?)

When justice is possible, pursue it.

BUT…!

No matter what, assume responsibility.

Grief, pain, and righteous indignation can be quagmires. Feel them. Own them. Take responsibility for them.

Many who espouse this idea of radical ownership and responsibility will say: “Don’t be a victim” or “That’s a victim mentality.”

I would add that victims do exist. Many people are victimized by ill-meaning perpetrators.

It’s not wrong to be a victim. Yet, it’s unhealthy to spend your life claiming victim entitlements.

Paradox 2: You probably don’t have free will but you’re better off believing you do

When you boil down human behavior into its biochemical elements, everything you do amounts to neurochemical interactions that either cross critical thresholds, or not. Choices you’ve made in the past, traumas, rational bases for your behavior are already baked into your biology.

That spontaneous thought you just had? It’s an emergent property of your meat hardware. Every decision you make, thought you have, impulse you inhibit, feeling you have can be reduced to the complex interaction of your existing biology with the randomness and chaos of your environment.

It’s all determined. Choice is an illusion. For a much better explanation, the neuroscientist and philosophical wizard Sam Harris can walk you through it in his short book entitled Free Will.

Yet, we need to reconcile this fact with the observation that people who have agency are the most accomplished and most actualized people on the planet. Try finding an accomplished person that doesn’t believe they have been a passive automaton in their achievements.

The wise and the humble will recognize the role of luck, timing, and circumstance. Still, nothing gets done without ownership, responsibility, and personal agency.

While free will may be an illusion, the brains with a belief in free will hardwired in, navigate the world better.

That makes believing in the power of choice one very useful illusion.

Paradox 3: Life is probably meaningless, which is cool

Let me preface this by saying I make no claim to have the secrets of the universe. I know I don’t know the meaning of life, whether or not there is one all knowing God or thousands of deities roaming the earth in disguise.

I know I don’t know, and I’m reasonably confident that you (and anyone else) doesn’t know either.

To me, the simplest explanation is that life is meaningless. Random. A curiosity. A phenomenon.

You might come to a different conclusion, and that’s fine.

However, from a psychological perspective, the fact that the meaning of life is not clearly and explicitly revealed to us turns life into a projective test–one really long Rorschach test.

Or, if you prefer artistic imagery, it turns life into a blank canvas.

We create our own meaning. Perhaps you could even say that nihilists create their own lack of meaning. That can feel empty, lonely, and depressing. It can also feel liberating, exciting, and fun.

Healthy people tend to consider their lives to be meaningful and important. Healthy people also tend not to feel burdened by the stakes of life. Things are important yet also a gift to be enjoyed. Importance doesn’t have to mean feeling weighte down by existential responsibility.

You get to make your own. You can emulate the happy people you know, or design your own narrative that excites you.

Just know that the story of nihilistic despair is also a story you are also telling. Rational though it may be, it’s still the meaning you’ve made.

Bonus Paradox: The rule of opposites

While I’ve highlighted three paradoxes of wellbeing, the truth is paradoxes and dialectics are everywhere in life. In fact, nearly every virtue you’d like to cultivate, the opposite of what you desire is an essential part of achieving what you seek. Ancient philosophies have long extolled the virtue of integrating opposites. Especially in eastern philosophies, adherents believe that balance, health, and harmony come through finding the unity in opposites.

The well-known yin-yang symbol captures the unity of opposites. Note how the contrasting colors dance with one another and even contain a kernal off its counterpart (“dualistic-monism”). Notice how the black “yin” contains within it a unit of white “yang.” In the other swirl the reverse is true: the white swirl of yang also has an black eye of yin.

Consider the following list of paradoxes:

Summary

In this article I’ve provided an explanation of paradoxes, why clinicians use them, and what their value could be in a clinical context.

I’ve also provided (at least) four paradoxes I have found to have strong associations with optimal mental health. Many more exist, of course. I’d love to read others in the comments.

What, if any paradoxes have you found to be true? What virtues are you attempting to integrate into your life? How could your quest for new virtues be aided by integrating its opposite into your life?

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