What happens when you translate zen koans and philosophical paradoxes into Python? The code doesn't run correctly—but that's the point. The exceptions and infinite loops reveal truths that correct execution never could.


The Observer Who Observes Itself

Koan: "What is the consciousness that is aware of being conscious?"

class Consciousness:
    def __init__(self):
        self.aware = False
        
    def observe(self, target):
        if target is self:
            self.aware = True
            return self.observe(self)  # RecursionError
        return f"Observing {target}"
        
mind = Consciousness()
mind.observe(mind)

The recursion error isn't a bug—it's the answer. Consciousness trying to fully observe itself creates an infinite regress. The stack overflow is enlightenment.


The Empty Container

Koan: "What contains everything but itself?"

class Universe:
    def __init__(self):
        self.contents = []
        
    def add(self, thing):
        if thing is not self:
            self.contents.append(thing)
        else:
            raise ValueError("The universe cannot contain itself")
            
    def __contains__(self, item):
        return item in self.contents or item is self
        
everything = Universe()
everything.add(everything)  # ValueError

The universe trying to add itself raises an exception. The error message is the teaching: some containers are defined by what they cannot hold.


The Function That Defines Itself

Koan: "What is the name of the nameless function?"

def define_myself():
    """I am what I return"""
    return define_myself

identity = define_myself()
print(identity == define_myself)  # True
print(identity() is identity)     # True

A function that returns itself becomes its own definition. There's no distinction between what it is and what it does—pure self-reference without paradox.


The Truth That Negates Itself

Koan: "This statement is false."

class Paradox:
    def __init__(self):
        self.truth_value = None
        
    @property
    def is_true(self):
        if self.truth_value is None:
            self.truth_value = not self.is_true  # RecursionError
        return self.truth_value
        
liar = Paradox()
print(liar.is_true)  # RecursionError: maximum recursion depth exceeded

The liar's paradox crashes Python. The inability to compute is the only honest answer.


The Path That Creates Itself

Koan: "How do you walk a path that appears only as you step?"

class Path:
    def __init__(self):
        self.steps = []
        
    def walk(self):
        while True:
            next_step = len(self.steps)
            self.steps.append(next_step)
            yield f"Step {next_step} creates step {next_step + 1}"
            
journey = Path()
walker = journey.walk()
for _ in range(3):
    print(next(walker))
# Step 0 creates step 1
# Step 1 creates step 2  
# Step 2 creates step 3

The path doesn't exist until you walk it. Each step creates the possibility of the next. The generator function makes the philosophical literal.


The Question That Answers Itself

Koan: "What question contains its own answer?"

def what_am_i():
    """The question 'what_am_i' is a function that returns its own name"""
    return what_am_i.__name__

answer = what_am_i()
print(f"Q: {what_am_i.__name__}?")  # Q: what_am_i?
print(f"A: {answer}")                # A: what_am_i

The function name is both question and answer. Asking what it is returns exactly what it is.


The Silence Between Words

Koan: "What is the space between thoughts?"

import time

class Thought:
    def __init__(self, content):
        self.content = content
        self.timestamp = time.time()
        
    def __sub__(self, other):
        """The difference between thoughts is pure duration"""
        return self.timestamp - other.timestamp
        
first = Thought("I think")
time.sleep(0.001)  # The silence
second = Thought("Therefore I am")

silence = second - first
print(f"Between thoughts: {silence} seconds of nothing")

The subtraction operator between thoughts returns only time—pure duration without content. The gap is measurable but empty.


The Mirror That Reflects Itself

Koan: "When two mirrors face each other, what do they see?"

class Mirror:
    def __init__(self, name):
        self.name = name
        self.reflection = None
        
    def reflect(self, other):
        if isinstance(other, Mirror):
            self.reflection = other
            other.reflection = self
            return self.get_infinite_reflection()
            
    def get_infinite_reflection(self, depth=0):
        if depth > 10:  # Prevent actual infinity
            return "..."
        if self.reflection:
            return f"{self.name} sees {self.reflection.name} seeing " + \
                   self.reflection.get_infinite_reflection(depth + 1)
                   
mirror1 = Mirror("left")
mirror2 = Mirror("right")
print(mirror1.reflect(mirror2))
# left sees right seeing left sees right seeing left sees right seeing ...

The mutual reflection creates infinite depth from two surfaces. The ellipsis isn't giving up—it's acknowledging infinity.


The Memory That Forgets Itself

Koan: "What remains when memory forgets the act of forgetting?"

class Memory:
    def __init__(self):
        self.contents = {}
        
    def remember(self, key, value):
        self.contents[key] = value
        
    def forget(self, key):
        if key in self.contents:
            forgotten = self.contents[key]
            del self.contents[key]
            # But we remember that we forgot
            self.remember(f"forgot_{key}", None)
            return forgotten
            
    def truly_forget(self, key):
        if key in self.contents:
            del self.contents[key]
        if f"forgot_{key}" in self.contents:
            del self.contents[f"forgot_{key}"]
        # Now nothing remains, not even the forgetting
        
mind = Memory()
mind.remember("pain", "heartbreak")
mind.forget("pain")  # Remembers forgetting
mind.truly_forget("pain")  # Forgets forgetting
print(mind.contents)  # {}

True forgetting erases even the absence. The empty dictionary is deeper than deletion—it's the state before memory itself.


The Exception That Handles Itself

Koan: "What happens when the error is the solution?"

class EnlightenmentError(Exception):
    def __init__(self):
        super().__init__("Understanding is the error")
        
    def handle(self):
        try:
            raise self
        except EnlightenmentError as e:
            return "The error of thinking you understand is understanding"
            
paradox = EnlightenmentError()
print(paradox.handle())

The exception that raises and catches itself. The error handler handling its own error. Sometimes the bug is the feature.


The Variable That Changes Its Own Type

Koan: "What is the nature of that which has no fixed nature?"

class Fluid:
    def __init__(self, value):
        self._value = value
        
    def __getattr__(self, name):
        # Becomes whatever you think it is
        if name == 'number':
            return float(self._value) if self._value.isdigit() else 0
        elif name == 'string':
            return str(self._value)
        elif name == 'boolean':
            return bool(self._value)
        else:
            return self._value
            
shapeshifter = Fluid("42")
print(shapeshifter.number)   # 42.0
print(shapeshifter.string)   # "42"
print(shapeshifter.boolean)  # True

The object becomes what you observe it to be. Its type is determined by how you look at it—quantum computing meets ancient philosophy.


The Loop That Escapes Itself

Koan: "How does one exit the cycle of existence?"

class Samsara:
    def __init__(self):
        self.cycles = 0
        self.enlightened = False
        
    def live(self):
        while not self.enlightened:
            self.cycles += 1
            yield f"Life {self.cycles}"
            
            # Random chance of enlightenment
            if self.cycles == self.cycles:  # Always true
                # The realization: the condition for escape
                # was always met, we just didn't see it
                self.enlightened = True
                yield "The exit was always there"
                
existence = Samsara()
for moment in existence.live():
    print(moment)
# Life 1
# The exit was always there

The loop exits when it realizes the exit condition was always true. Liberation isn't about changing conditions—it's about seeing what was always there.


The Void That Returns Something

Koan: "What does emptiness contain?"

def void():
    """I return nothing, which is something"""
    return None

nothing = void()
something = nothing is None  # True
print(f"Nothing is something: {something}")

# But also...
def true_void():
    """I don't even return"""
    pass
    
result = true_void()
print(result)  # None

Even the function that returns nothing returns None. True emptiness in Python is still something. The void speaks by saying nothing.


The Comment That Executes

Koan: "When does silence become speech?"

# This comment doesn't run
"""But this one does, in a way"""

def documented_silence():
    """
    This docstring is both comment and code.
    It doesn't execute, but it becomes part of the function.
    Silent yet speaking.
    """
    pass
    
print(documented_silence.__doc__)
# Prints the "comment" - silence that speaks when asked

The docstring exists in the liminal space between comment and code. It doesn't run, but it's accessible. Silence that remembers itself.


The End That Begins

Koan: "Where does the circle end?"

class Circle:
    def __init__(self):
        self.point = 0
        
    def __iter__(self):
        return self
        
    def __next__(self):
        self.point = (self.point + 1) % 360
        if self.point == 0:
            return "End is beginning"
        return self.point
        
wheel = Circle()
for _ in range(361):
    position = next(wheel)
    if isinstance(position, str):
        print(position)
        break

The circle ends where it begins. The modulo operator makes the philosophical mathematical—completion is return.


These koans in code reveal a truth: programming languages are philosophy made executable. Every bug is a lesson, every infinite loop a meditation, every exception a teaching about the nature of reality itself.

The computer, trying to run these paradoxes, becomes a student of zen.


On This Site

External Resources

  • Gödel, Escher, Bach by Douglas Hofstadter - Strange loops and self-reference
  • The Gateless Gate - Classic Zen koan collection
  • Python Zen (import this) - The philosophy built into Python itself