Site logo

Building Certainty on Sand: Borges’s Pragmatic Paradox

Created at: August 26, 2025

Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone. — Jorg
Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone. — Jorge Luis Borges

Nothing is built on stone; all is built on sand, but we must build as if the sand were stone. — Jorge Luis Borges

The Paradox of Necessary Pretenses

Borges distills a tension at the heart of human striving: the world is flux, yet our projects demand the poise of permanence. Stone signifies certainty; sand, ceaseless change. To build ‘as if’ the sand were stone is not naive denial but disciplined courage—the artisan’s vow to finish the cathedral even as foundations shift. In this light, the quote proposes an ethic of earnest construction under conditions of fragility. We do not wait for perfect ground; we cultivate steadiness in ourselves and our methods. Thus the paradox becomes a practice: acknowledge contingency, but work with the rigor permanence would require.

Borges and the Power of the As-If

This stance echoes a broader intellectual tradition. Hans Vaihinger’s Philosophy of the As If (1911) argues that many useful ideas are fictions we treat as true to navigate reality. Borges dramatizes this insight: in ‘Tlön, Uqbar, Orbis Tertius’ (1940), an invented encyclopedia begins to overwrite the world, showing how shared fictions can reorganize life. Likewise, ‘The Library of Babel’ presents an impossible archive that nevertheless orients search and meaning. By moving from paradox to parable, Borges suggests that acting as if is less delusion than technique—an instrument that turns uncertainty into workable form.

Impermanence from Heraclitus to Buddhism

Stepping back, the quote resonates with ancient intuitions of impermanence. Heraclitus’ river fragments remind us that stability is only apparent; one never steps into the same river twice. Buddhism names this condition anicca, the constant arising and passing of phenomena, and counsels skillful action without clinging. Even Ecclesiastes’ refrain—‘vanity of vanities’—registers the fragility of worldly projects. Yet humans must still plant crops, write laws, and raise families. The Borges imperative therefore aligns with these traditions: accept transience, then respond with deliberate forms that hold, however briefly, against the tide.

Science and Law: Provisional Foundations

In practice, entire fields thrive by building on sand with stone-like discipline. Science advances through models that are robust yet revisable: Newton’s mechanics enabled engineering for centuries, then yielded to Einstein’s relativity without rendering bridges unsafe. Popper (1959) frames this as conjectures and refutations—knowledge held firmly until better tested. Law proceeds similarly through deliberate fictions that coordinate life, such as corporate personhood in Anglo-American jurisprudence or the Roman persona ficta. We act as if these abstractions were concrete so contracts can bind, rights can be enforced, and cooperation can scale.

Cities Literally Built on Unstable Ground

The built environment offers vivid analogies. Venice stands on timber piles driven into lagoon silt; water preserves the wood, and engineering rituals renew its apparent solidity. Mexico City, founded on a lakebed, continually subsides, forcing adaptive infrastructure and active maintenance. The Netherlands holds back the sea with movable dikes and room-for-the-river policies, acting as if the land were fixed while designing for its fluidity. Even Tokyo’s seismic codes embody this wisdom, treating buildings as flexible systems rather than immovable monoliths. Here, ‘as if’ is not pretense—it is a method of safety and endurance.

An Ethics of Commitment Amid Flux

Finally, the quote advances a moral posture: commit fully while knowing the ground will shift. Camus’ The Myth of Sisyphus (1942) frames dignity as persistent effort in an indifferent world, while Kierkegaard’s leap of faith treats decision as the bridge no certainty can provide. Promises, institutions, and arts all rely on this courage—to act as if stability were granted, and thereby make partial stability real. Thus the circle closes: by building well on sand, we create platforms others can trust, however temporarily. And in that iterative trust, the sand hardens just enough for the next foundation.