2. The First Method of Correlative Thinking — Ipche (立體, Stereoscopic Thinking)

2. The First Method of Correlative Thinking — Ipche (立體, Stereoscopic Thinking)

Daoist Mimesis: X is -X, and -X is X

2.1. The Definition of Stereoscopic Thinking

Rendered in the simplest terms, stereoscopic thinking (ipche) is "the power not to draw a conclusion from seeing only one side." If you view a box only through a single photograph, you see only its front; but if you actually hold it in your hand and turn it, you can understand its sides, its back, and even its inner structure. Stereoscopic thinking is the ability to turn the box of thought and examine it.

The same holds for conflicts between people. If you see only the scene in which a friend behaved rudely, it is easy to conclude that the whole of that friend is a "bad person." But when you also consider the situation of that day, the emotions, the misunderstandings, and the history of the relationship, the structure of the event becomes far more complex. Stereoscopic thinking does not erase the wrongdoing, but it makes a more accurate and fair judgment possible.

In the AI era, such stereoscopy is all the more important. AI can quickly capture surface patterns, but the task of deeply fathoming why such a situation arose and whom that judgment might wound, and how, is something human beings must take responsibility for.

The first stage, "ipche (立體, stereoscopic thinking)," refers to the capacity to grasp reality and problems in a multidimensional and in-depth manner, departing from a single-track or flat perspective. It is the process of recognizing the structure and connectivity behind phenomena and building a "solid" understanding by integrating diverse perspectives. Human understanding is rooted deeply in "the body, emotions, and intuition," beyond abstract data processing. AI can process vast amounts of data, but it lacks the "Qualia"—the subjective texture that humans experience—and genuine "intentionality." Such embodied, experiential knowledge provides a depth of understanding that AI cannot replicate. For example, Beijing opera is a paragon of "embodied meaning," conveying rich, analogical meaning through gesture, color, and sound, and engaging the audience "bodily and emotionally" as well. This is a multilayered, non-literal mode of communication. Moreover, drama therapy, which aids psychological healing through role-play and storytelling, was inspired in part by Eastern theatrical forms such as Beijing opera, demonstrating that embodied, multisensory engagement can bring about deep understanding and transformation.

"Stereoscopic thinking" is a direct response strategy to AI's mode of data processing—that is, to its vast but often flat enumeration of information. If AI can view a broad range of data, then human beings must, through "ipche," grasp the depth of those data points, their interrelated structure, and their non-quantitative aspects such as ethical layers and emotional context. Such in-depth contextual understanding is essential for wise decision-making grounded in the data that AI provides. The emphasis on "embodiment" highlights that human survival is linked to physical, lived experience, providing a distinctive epistemological reference point in an increasingly dematerialized, AI-mediated world. Concepts presented in the research literature, such as "stereoscopic yin-yang and the Five Phases (Park Yong-gyu, 2017)" and "Structure Theory (Kim Dong-ryeol, 2010)," suggest concrete methodological approaches that deepen this stereoscopic understanding. Structure Theory explores the "regularities found at points of connection" among phenomena and "integrates diverse fields of mathematics into a single coherent logical system," thereby seeking to understand the fundamental structures that endow phenomena with "stereoscopy." This is a matter of grasping generative principles beyond superficial phenomena, and is crucial for intervening effectively in the complex systems of the AI era.

2.2. Daoist (道敎) Mimesis

We have understood that stereoscopic thinking is the discernment of the interdependence between opposites. This interdependence appears not as an abstract symbol but as the dynamic vitality of reality. We can find it vividly in Daoist Mimesis—the oldest wisdom of the East, which seeks the "essential root."

Mimesis, first used to mean "imitation" in the ancient Greek Aristotle's Poetics, denotes not mere mimicry but the creative capacity to sensuously re-present and embody the world. The modern philosopher Paul Ricœur saw it as the root of the "narrative identity" from which human stories are made, and the Korean scholar of religion Professor Chung Chin-hong (1988) assigned it to "a primordial Daoism in which religious experience and symbols find their roots and become concretely embodied within the human body and life." In this book, Mimesis is applied as Daoist vitality—that is, the initial spiritual dynamism that seeks to transform the abstract world into a concrete body.

Preserving the original meaning of Mimesis as imitation, the stage in which spirit imitates the human being and comes to possess a body can be called Daoist Mimesis. Because the body possesses a spirit that is opposite to itself, Daoist Mimesis is summarized as "X is -X, and -X is X" (Han Tae-dong 2003).

Indeed, Laozi says that if one calls the Dao (X) the Dao (X), it is not the Dao (-X); that the strongest thing (X) is the weakest water (-X); that Heaven and Earth (X) are not benevolent (不仁, bu-in, -X); that a friend (X) is an enemy (-X) and an enemy (-X) is a friend (X)—thus running through the entire Dao De Jing with the single thread of "-X is X."

Han Tae-dong (2023) revealed that East Asian Daoism, Buddhism, and Confucianism, contrary to common assumption, are established upon a rigorous mathematical structure. To explain this simply: regarding, for instance, friend and enemy, Daoism and Confucianism debate as follows. Against Daoism, which calls an enemy (-X) a friend (X), Confucianism holds that an enemy is an enemy and a friend is a friend; in Confucianism, a ruler must be ruler-like and a subject must be subject-like (X→X, ~X→~X). At this point, Buddhism, which appeared later in East Asia, achieved great success by expressing that there is neither friend nor enemy (X→(~X ∧ X)).

At first glance this sentence may feel like wordplay, but its meaning is rather simple. It says that a thing is not entirely severed from its opposite, but rather acquires its own meaning within its relationship to that opposite. Because there is day, we know night; and because there is night, day too becomes vivid.

Rendered into the everyday life of a middle-school student, study and rest are a good example. With only study and no rest, concentration collapses; with only rest and no study, growth halts. If study is X, then rest may be -X, but the two are not enemies that ruin each other, but a pair that completes each other.

Therefore, "X is -X, and -X is X" does not mean "exactly the same thing." It means that even though they appear opposite on the surface, they are in fact an inseparable relationship, and that within each side there always lies the possibility of crossing over into the other. The wisdom of Daoism lies precisely in reading this complementarity.

The relationship between AI and the human can be seen in this way as well. If AI is strong in analysis and computation, the human can bring into sharper relief the judgment of meaning, responsibility, care, and contextual understanding. The two are not beings that merely compete, but can become mirrors that reflect each other.

Daoist Mimesis, beyond mere imitation, means embodying the order of nature and the principle of change and reflecting these in life. Its core is the principle of complementarity, which can be summarized in the proposition "X is -X, and -X is X." This is the discernment that opposites, like yin and yang, in fact define each other, depend on each other, and ceaselessly transform into each other. Just as darkness has meaning because there is brightness, and brightness is revealed because there is darkness, so too the relationship between AI and the human can be understood from this complementary perspective.

2.2.1. Artificial Intelligence and the Human: A Complementary Relationship

In the AI era, to view the human and AI as a mere relationship of opposition does not accord with Daoist wisdom. Even though AI appears to imitate human intellectual capacities and to surpass them in certain domains, this does not annihilate human value; rather, it can become an occasion for bringing the uniquely human domain into sharper relief. If AI is "X," the human can be "-X," and vice versa. For example, if AI shows its strengths in the analytical and computational domain (X), the human can all the more exercise its value in the emotional and creative domain (-X). Conversely, human intuition and insight (-X) can form a mutually complementary relationship by giving direction and meaning to AI's data-processing capacity (X). In other words, the advancement of AI is not the end of human capacity, but the opening of new possibilities for how the human can interact with AI and maximize each other's strengths.

Bergson long ago compared the relationship between AI and the human being to that between a machine (X) and an organism (-X). Even a century before AI appeared, in confronting the crisis of the humanities, phenomenology, the philosophy of life, and Bergson himself redefined the relationship between AI and the human being and discovered that the human body, being organic, constitutes what is uniquely human (Kim Hyeong-hyo 1991).

2.2.2. The Leadership of Wu-wei (Non-action):

Wu-wei (Non-action) does not mean 'doing nothing.' Just as a river flows of its own accord until it reaches the sea, wu-wei is action that does not run counter to the direction of nature. Even without forcing, water always flows toward lower ground, and when that flow gathers it becomes an immense force. Leadership in handling AI is the same. Trying to lead AI solely through control and command in fact blocks AI's possibilities. Wu-wei AI leadership means that the human being sets the direction and values, while giving AI the space to seek its best within them.

Time is a representative symbol of wu-wei. The reason the Book of Changes (I Ching) takes wonhyeong-ijeong (origination, growth, harvest, and completion) as its core is that this wonhyeong-ijeong is the power of time, represented by spring, summer, autumn, and winter. Time is like the sun in Aesop's fable, which, in the contest to strip the traveler of his coat, removes it naturally, unlike the wind. The human body's capacity to perform mimesis (imitation) of time is a characteristic unique to the human being.

Some prominent AI developers liken the human being to a capable teacher who, rather than distrusting problem students, places trust in them and changes teaching methods so that these students come to display outstanding ability. Such prominent AI developers regard AI as something to be believed in as one would believe in a god, yet as something that, though possessing god-like ability, cannot exercise that ability in reality without the human being.

To take AI as a mirror means to practice reading the human being's own self in the results that AI shows us. When an AI system renders a judgment biased toward a particular group, that bias is not a problem of AI itself but a reflection of the biases of the human society that trained the AI. Therefore, examining how AI operates is at the same time the work of examining what prejudices and injustices our own society has embedded within it. Just as one sees one's own appearance through a mirror, we need a leadership of reflection that sees the bare face of human civilization through AI and sets about correcting it.

The leadership of wu-wei can also be practiced at the individual level. When a student uses AI, wu-wei use is precisely the process of not immediately taking and writing down the answer, but rather examining and questioning the answer AI presents and comparing it with one's own thinking. In this process the student cultivates a judgment of one's own that goes beyond AI. Not being driven by AI nor blindly following AI, but naturally working together with AI while not losing one's humanity—that is the modern-day wu-wei.

Laozi's thought of 'wu-wei (non-action)' offers an important insight for leadership in the AI era. Wu-wei is not doing nothing, but a leadership that, following the natural order (the Dao), refrains from forced intervention and guides things to be so of themselves (ziran). The human role in handling AI may be similar. While respecting AI's autonomy and learning ability, the human being must exercise an 'indirect leadership' that creates the environment for AI to derive optimal results and presents an ethical direction.

AI is like a mirror (Mimesis) reflecting the complex aspects of human society. The data on which AI learns may contain the very prejudices and contradictions of human society, and the way AI operates simultaneously reveals both the limits and the possibilities of the human decision-making process. Therefore, through AI we can reflect more deeply on the essence of the human being, the structure of society, and the values we ought to pursue. The wu-wei leader must play the role of reflecting the human being through the mirror of AI and wisely orchestrating things so that technological advancement does not lead to the loss of humanity.

2.3. The First Stage of Generation, Potae (Gestation)

We have examined the leadership of wu-wei, which reflects humanity by taking artificial intelligence as a mirror. If one has awakened to Daoist interdependence and vitality, how does it first reveal its form in reality? The very starting point of that great movement of life is the mysterious stage of 'potae (gestation),' in which the cosmic energy is conceived within the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages.

The Twelve Life-Cycle Stages (sibi-unseong) constitute a typical theory of growth that divides the whole process of life—being conceived, growing, maturing, and becoming active—into twelve stages. Because it is explained through twelve terms—potae (gestation), yangsaeng (nurturing), yokdae (bathing-and-girding), gwanwang (prime), decline, illness, death, and burial—it becomes the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages. If the Ten Heavenly Stems and Twelve Earthly Branches are atoms, then the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages are like the molecules that arise when the Ten Stems and Twelve Branches meet. Because the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages arise where mind and body meet, they are highly suitable as a concept for revealing the human characteristics that AI does not possess. For example, if AI, which manifests only mind, or the cyborg, which reveals only body, are atoms like the Ten Stems and Twelve Branches, then the Twelve Life-Cycle Stages that appear when the Ten Stems and Twelve Branches combine are like molecules. What we encounter in the actual world is the world of molecules.

Potae (gestation) refers to the first stage in which new life, before it has yet come out into the world, grows while being safely protected. One of the most important roles the human being must perform in the AI era is precisely this role of potae. It is the human being's part to create a 'safe space' in which new ideas, new enterprises, and new social connections can sprout. AI produces results quickly, but the judgment to trust, protect, and nurture as-yet-unverified possibilities must be made by the human being.

Translated into the daily life of a middle-school student, potae is creating an environment in which, when starting a new hobby, one can keep trying even if the initial results are poor. When parents encourage the process rather than looking only at scores, and when a teacher draws learning even out of wrong answers, that relationship itself becomes the space of potae. Education in the AI era is the same. The role of the human teacher, who encourages the process of the student making mistakes and learning together with AI, cannot be replaced by AI.

In Eastern thought, 'potae (gestation)' means the first stage in which life is conceived, is protected, and holds within itself new possibilities. In the AI era, the human role lies not in competing with AI as an already-completed being, but in performing the role of 'potae'—conceiving and nurturing the possibilities of a new age. AI technology itself is value-neutral, but its results can vary greatly depending on the intentions and values with which the human being makes use of it. Through the new tool of AI, the human being has the potential to conceive creative ideas unimaginable in the past, to seek innovative methods for solving social problems, and to open a new horizon for human civilization.

2.4. Johwa (Creative Transformation) and Johwa (Harmonizing Attunement) in the AI Era

If, through potae, the possibility of life has been quietly conceived as johwa (creative transformation), then in order for that potential to grow fully and come out into the world, a great balance—johwa (harmonizing attunement)—is essential. There is an urgent need for a breathing in which cold technology (yin) and warm humanity (yang) do not collide but fuse with vitality: the harmonizing attunement (johwa) of the Harmonious Union of Yin and Yang (eumyang-hapdeok) that nourishes all things in creation.

The Harmonious Union of Yin and Yang (eumyang-hapdeok) is a principle of harmonizing attunement (johwa) in which two opposing forces, without suppressing each other, act together to create all things. It is not that yin eliminates yang or that yang dominates yin; rather, the two ceaselessly complement and interact with each other, bringing forth life. The relationship between AI and the human being can also be understood through this principle. When AI's calculative and logical ability (a yang attribute) and the human being's emotional and intuitive ability (a yin attribute) are seen not as opposing but as a pair that completes each other, only then does a civilization in which technology and humanity achieve harmony become possible.

Consider the example of using an AI writing tool at school. Good writing emerges when AI's quick drafting of an outline (the speed and efficiency of yang) works together with the student's refining of that draft through one's own experience and emotion (the depth and authenticity of yin). Using only AI yields content but no individuality; writing without AI may be rich in expression but can suffer from a lack of information. The most polished result comes when the two are joined like yin and yang. This is the modern Harmonious Union of Yin and Yang.

The Harmonious Union of Yin and Yang (eumyang-hapdeok) refers to the principle by which the differing energies of yin and yang are harmoniously joined to generate and develop all things. The ideal picture of the AI era is not one in which technology (yang) and humanity (yin) stand opposed or in which one dominates the other, but one in which each recognizes the other's strengths and, achieving harmony, creates new value. When AI's powerful analytical capacity and efficiency are combined with the human being's warm empathic capacity and ethical judgment, technology can become a tool that enriches human life still further rather than alienating the human being. This harmony of the Harmonious Union of Yin and Yang will become the core principle for setting the direction of technological development in a human-centered way and for building a future in which AI and the human being coexist and flourish together.