The harder you chase something, the more it evades you. Alan Watts' backwards law and the paradox of effortless action.

Here's something that'll mess with your head: the more you want something, the less likely you are to get it.
Not because the universe is cruel (though sometimes it feels that way). But because desire itself creates resistance. Alan Watts called this the "backwards law," the idea that our attempts to gain pleasure often lead to suffering, while our attempts to avoid suffering often prevent pleasure.
The Taoists knew this thousands of years ago. They called it wu wei.
Wu wei is usually translated as "non-doing" or "effortless action." Which sounds like new-age nonsense until you actually think about it.
It doesn't mean doing nothing. That's just laziness with a philosophy degree. Wu wei means acting without forcing. Moving with the grain instead of against it. Letting things happen rather than making them happen.
Think about learning to ride a bike. You can't force balance. The harder you try to stay upright, the more you wobble. Balance happens when you stop trying so hard, when you relax into the movement and let your body figure it out.
That's wu wei.
Watts articulated this perfectly: "When you try to stay on the surface of the water, you sink; but when you try to sink, you float."
Look at insomnia. Can't sleep? Just try harder! Focus on sleeping! Think about how much you need to sleep! How's that working out? You're more awake than ever, aren't you?
Or happiness. People pursue happiness like it's a destination you can GPS your way to. They optimize their morning routines, track their moods, read self-help books, attend workshops. And somehow end up more anxious than when they started.
Because happiness isn't something you achieve. It's something that happens when you stop chasing it and start paying attention to what's actually in front of you.
There's a mechanism here worth understanding. When you try too hard at something, you create tension. Psychological tension, physical tension, doesn't matter; tension blocks flow.
Athletes call this "choking." Musicians call it "overthinking." Programmers call it "analysis paralysis." Same thing: the conscious mind gets in the way of what the unconscious mind already knows how to do.
Ever notice how your best work happens when you're not really trying? When you're just... doing the thing? That flow state everyone talks about? That's wu wei. You can't force it. (And yes, the irony of trying to achieve flow state is not lost on anyone who's attempted it.)
We've been conditioned to believe that more effort equals better results. If you're not getting what you want, you're obviously not trying hard enough. Grind harder. Hustle more. Sleep less. Optimize everything.
This might work for certain mechanical tasks. Digging a ditch? Sure, more effort helps. But for anything that requires creativity, intuition, or genuine human connection? Forced effort is poison.
You can't force creativity. You can't manufacture insight. You can't strong-arm someone into liking you. The harder you push, the more these things slip away.
So what does this actually mean for how you live?
It means showing up and doing the work without being attached to the outcome. Writing without obsessing over whether it's good. Coding without constantly comparing yourself to others. Having conversations without scripting what you're going to say next.
It means recognizing when you're forcing something that isn't ready to happen. Sometimes the answer is to push harder. But often, more often than we admit, the answer is to back off and let it develop naturally.
Gardeners understand this instinctively. You can't make a plant grow faster by pulling on it. You create the conditions for growth, then get out of the way.
Here's where it gets interesting: wu wei isn't passive. It's not "sit around and hope things work out." It's active in a different way.
It's knowing which battles matter and which ones don't. It's doing less but better. It's understanding that sometimes the most productive thing you can do is nothing at all.
Programmers know this. The best debugging sessions often happen after you walk away from the problem. You stop trying to solve it, go make coffee, and the solution just... appears. Your unconscious was working on it the whole time.
But (and here's where people get confused) wu wei doesn't mean never trying hard. Sometimes effort is exactly what's needed.
The distinction is this: are you working with the situation or against it?
Rowing downstream versus upstream. Both require effort. One is wu wei, the other is exhausting yourself for minimal progress.
Learn to tell the difference. Feel when you're forcing versus flowing. Notice the quality of resistance. Is it the resistance of something difficult but aligned? Or the resistance of banging your head against a wall that isn't going to move?
We live in a culture that worships control. Everything must be optimized, measured, improved. There's always another level to reach, another habit to build, another version of yourself to become.
And it's burning people out.
Wu wei offers an alternative. Not a rejection of ambition or effort, but a different relationship to both. One that's sustainable. One that doesn't require you to wage war against yourself every day.
You can't practice wu wei by trying to practice wu wei. (See the problem?)
But you can notice when you're forcing. You can pay attention to what flows and what doesn't. You can experiment with backing off sometimes instead of always pushing harder.
Start small. Notice your breath without trying to control it. Have a conversation without planning your responses. Write without editing as you go. Code without constantly checking Stack Overflow.
Feel the difference between effort that's aligned and effort that's resistance.
Want to be happy? Stop chasing happiness and start noticing what makes you feel alive.
Want to be creative? Stop trying to force ideas and create space for them to emerge.
Want to sleep? Stop trying to sleep and just lie there.
Want to be loved? Stop performing and start being yourself.
The backwards law isn't just philosophical poetry. It's a practical observation about how humans actually work. We're not machines that respond linearly to effort. We're complex systems that often work best when we get out of our own way.
The Tao Te Ching opens with this: "The way that can be named is not the eternal Way."
Which is frustratingly accurate when talking about wu wei. You can describe it, but you can't really teach it. Everyone has to discover it for themselves through experience.
But once you see it, you can't unsee it. You start noticing the paradox everywhere. How relaxing makes you stronger. How letting go gives you more control. How trying less gets you further.
It's the backwards law all the way down.
And maybe, just maybe, that's exactly how it's supposed to work.
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