This is Part 1 of a 3-part article.
Recently I've begun to appreciate the dual nature of reality in a way that I haven't seen before.
Where to begin this story? Let's start with purely physical nature first, the basic foundation, and then go from there. So let's look briefly at quantum physics.
In quantum physics, whenever an electron "pops" into reality from the vacuum, a positron (anti-electron) also pops into existence at the same time. It has to, because they come into being together, as a pair, because they can't come into existence otherwise.
A similar phenomenon occurs, for instance, with protons: When a proton pops into existence from the Void, it's accompanied by an anti-proton. Why? Because they aren't actually separate; they're actually just two halves of the same phenomenon.
At a slightly different level, we see this same duality in the alternation of day and night. Are day and night actually separate? No. They're just two faces of the same phenomenon, the rotation of the earth.
Summer and winter, to take another example, are also two halves of the same phenomenon—the earth's journey around the sun while being tilted on its axis. "Summer" and "winter" are the names we give to the front and back face of that one phenomenon.
In the area of linquistics, we see the same thing. As soon as we've created the concept of "up," we've also created the concept of "down" at the same time, because the two parts only take on meaning in relation to each other.
The same, of course, with "hot" and "cold," "left" and "right", "beauty" and "ugliness," "right" and "wrong," "light" and "darkness," and on and on. They all come into existence together. (For more info on this, click on the Search button at left and type in the word "duality.")
What I hadn't really appreciated before is how this universal duality extends into the dimension of time as well. That is, every negative event is accompanied by an equal and positive event, and vice-versa, and that these two kinds of opposites are also two faces of the same phenomenon.
My understanding in this area began with a study of Natural Hygiene's concept of primary effect and secondary effect in drugs and medicines. (Do a search on the words "primary secondary" to bring up articles about this subject.)
Basically, what this brilliant movement grounded in 19th century naturalism says is this: That the primary effect of every drug is the apparent one, the obvious one, the short-term one. But there's an equal effect, the secondary and long-term one, which not only takes place after the primary effect but is the exact opposite of it.
A few brief examples: We take a stimulant, such as caffeine or nicotine or cocaine or amphetamine or whatever, to get more energy. But where does the extra energy come from? It can only come from the living body; it can't come from a drug, which is lifeless and inert. Only the body can act.
In acting to neutralize the poisonous drug, the body is stimulated to produce more energy than it wants to in that moment. And the body obliges, producing the extra energy. But like double-entry accounting, an equal debit is now added to the ledger.
Because the body produced more energy than it wanted to in that moment, after the initial stimulation there follows a period of less energy while the body recuperates and restores its energy reserves.
If this process of "stimulation" continues, over time the body becomes more and more fatigued—the exact opposite of the effect that the stimulant is supposed to produce. The secondary or long-term effect of any repeated stimulant is gradual exhaustion.
We could also say that the first or primary effect is the myth; the opposite or secondary effect is what becomes the realtiy.
Another example is when we take alcohol or a narcotic or a tranquilizer or whatever to relax. The primary effect, the one that's initially noticeable, is indeed one of relaxation and calming. But the secondary effect, the one that comes later, is just the opposite—a period of greater anxiety and restlessness.
Continued over time, the heroin, barbiturate, tranquilizer, alcohol, etc. becomes more and more addictive and produces a state of underlying anxiety which can only be relieved temporarily by taking larger doses of the drug.
The intense anxiety which accompanies withdrawal of the heroin or barbiturate or whatever is simply revealing the true reality of what that individual has become—more anxious, the secondary effect.
Similarly, anti-depressants over time make one more depressed. Just ask the takers of anti-depressants, who eventually and inevitably get on a merry-go-round of searching for the "next" and "better" anti-depressant. The primary effect, the sense of feeling better, is eventually replaced by the long-term and secondary effect, that of feeling worse.
Similarly too, for instance, with cholesterol-lowering drugs. They bring down the symptom, high-cholesterol—that's the primary effect. But since the underlying cause of a high-fat, high-cholesterol diet isn't addressed, the underlying disease of increasing arterial plaque continues to worsen—that's the secondary effect, the reality of what is actually being achieved.
A final example in the drug area: We take antacid drugs to bring down heartburn, excess stomach acid. (In other words, we attack the symptom instead of altering our diet in a more natural direction, which would address the cause.) Interestingly, studies of antacid-takers show that over time the body actually increases its production of stomach acid—that's the secondary effect.
And so on. The primary effect is the immediate one, the short-term one, the attention-getting one. The secondary effect is the later, longer-term one, and it's the exact opposite of the primary effect. To put it another way, the secondary effect is always the real effect we achieve.
What shall we call this general phenomenon? For want of a better name, let's call it The Law Of Reverse Effect. And now let's see how this beautiful principle might extend to other dimensions.
This is Part 1 of a 3-part article. (Go to Part 2.)
—jim sloman, for 5/4/02
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