Recently, I encountered two types of people online: those who seemed perfect but had flaws, and those who appeared absolutely flawless. After comparing the two and reflecting on my interactions, I came to a realization: imperfection is, in fact, a form of perfection.
From a strictly linguistic perspective, this statement is a contradiction. However, if we interpret “perfection” as a state of “harmony,” it becomes much easier to understand.
Mathematically, we might view 0 and 1 as perfect numbers. Yet, when we consider the Golden Ratio—0.618—we might feel a sense of awe. Compared to the absolutes of zero and one, this number feels far more harmonious and natural.
Perfection can be described as “going to extremes,” whereas “imperfection” implies a sense of compromise.
This is particularly evident in the world of art. Many artists pursue extremes. Piet Mondrian’s grid paintings consist solely of straight lines and blocks of pure color. Yayoi Kusama covers pure yellow backgrounds with dense, obsessive black dots. Jackson Pollock wildly splashed paint onto canvas, with his work No. 5, 1948 fetching $165 million at auction.
I am not suggesting that the pursuit of the ultimate or the perfect is bad. But consider the Renaissance. Take the famous Mona Lisa, for example. Its carefully crafted Golden Ratio feels so harmonious that it has remained a classic for centuries.
When I searched online for interpretations of imperfection, I stumbled upon Wabi-sabi (わび・さび). It is one of my favorite aesthetic styles.
This Japanese aesthetic is also a spiritual pursuit. It embodies “the wisdom of imperfection, and the ability and attitude to perceive beauty in imperfect things.”
We have already realized that this world can never be truly “complete”; therefore, the world cannot be perfect.
Appreciating perfect things is simple. However, appreciating things that are not perfect requires a different kind of wisdom. This explains why so many people complain about life’s setbacks and lament their bad luck.
In engineering, perfection does not mean running a machine at full load to achieve maximum output. Instead, perfection is about finding harmony and stability. Engineers must make trade-offs between performance, durability, and ease of use. Leaning too heavily in any one direction can lead to system collapse—a result that neither designers nor users wish to see.
Of course, not pursuing perfection doesn’t mean having no aspirations. In fact, pursuing “imperfection” is often harder.
In terms of self-perception, we naturally gravitate toward perfect people or things and often hold negative views toward imperfection. Deep down, our subconscious seems to sway our will without us noticing. By the time we realize it, we have already become paranoid, feeling lost because we cannot achieve that elusive perfection.
As mentioned above, viewing imperfection as perfection, and making harmony the ultimate goal, requires wisdom.
Let’s go back to the two types of people I mentioned at the start. Chatting with the “imperfect” person brought me great joy. But interacting with the “seemingly perfect” person made me feel like I was walking on eggshells; I became overly cautious. Over time, my mindset turned negative—feelings of suspicion, jealousy, and disdain arose spontaneously.
But isn’t this negative feeling also a case of “seeking perfection and failing”?
May we all travel further on the path of wisdom.
Thank you for reading.
