The Placebo Effect
From the doctor philosopher’s line of thought
The placebo effect
The philosopher doctor had a story to share
She has a patient in Malaysia
Who she sent capsules to heal an ailment
When she had sent the medicines
The lady came back and given her a tough time
Turns out
The capsules she has sent
had not been filled with the meds
And as a result
The Malaysian patient’s sickness has not been healed
Since the capsules had felt rather light
The patient had taken the liberty to check inside
and had found out the costly mistake
And hence had taken her to task
The doctor narrated this story
And another—
A man had gone to a new island
Where he had seen the locals
Feasting on all its natural plants
He had found all the plants
Except for the banana plant
So the man
in order to show the islanders
how a banana looked
He had taken some wood
Shaped it into a banana
painted it yellow
and shown it to the locals
Some years later, they had had a famine
Hunger had led them to the man’s home
where they had seen the banana made of wood
Assuming that it was the fruit he had talked about
They had scraped a portion of it
And tried to eat it
When that didn’t work
They had ground it into a fine powder
Mixed it in water
And drank it
Feeling and telling themselves
What the man had said to them
That the banana satisfies hunger
So they had believed that this banana
which they had ground into powder
Had taken away their hunger
The doctor narrated these stories
To ask her listeners an important question—
You believe that God exists inside of a temple
Where you go to worship him
Does he really exist there?
We already discussed that those buildings were created for one purpose
To remind people that God existed within us
Just like he was shown to exist inside of that pyramid-shaped temple structure
So, since you don’t know if God really existed inside those structures
Just like the banana story
You assume he does
And assume that you have been fed
With peace and sanctity
On visiting the structures
And worshipping the man-made stone sculptures within them
Just like the empty capsule couldn’t heal the Malaysian patient’s ailments
Would your ardent worship of a sculpture
Yield the results
Bring you the healing or answers you are praying for?
I wanted to go one step further in light of JK’s reasoning that we saw yesterday
Does that God which you are unsure of if He exists in that structure
Is that God worthy of fighting for with your life?
Would He expect that from you if He really did?
And if He really did exist
Within temples and churches and mosques among others
Would that God expect you to tear and rip each other apart in His name?
When you tear little children from their parents in the name of deportation
Would your God be delighted
to see the ones he created
being torn apart from their loved ones
in His name?
Think about this
Peace ✌🏽 


“You assume he does.”
That’s the quiet mic-drop right there.
I love how you just keep asking, gently but relentlessly, until belief has nowhere to hide.
Pills, bananas, temples..? suddenly everyone’s checking what they’ve been swallowing unquestioned.
Soft tone, sharp edge, and that last turn toward harm lands with zero theatrics.
Peace, yes... but not the sleepy kind.
The piece feels like someone gently taking us by the hand, using simple stories to reveal how easily we place faith in symbols without noticing.
The empty capsule becomes a quiet wound a reminder of how trust can be misplaced when we don’t look closely.
The wooden banana story shows how hunger, fear, and hope can make us cling to anything that promises comfort, even if it cannot nourish us.
Both stories expose something deeply human: our longing to believe in something that will soothe us when life feels uncertain.
The shift toward temples and worship feels like a soft, honest invitation to question where our faith truly lives.
There’s tenderness in the reminder that sacred spaces were meant to point inward, not replace the divinity we carry.
The text doesn’t reject belief it asks whether belief without awareness can heal or only imitate healing.
It confronts, with painful clarity, the harm done when people fight, divide, or wound others in the name of what they cannot prove.
The questions about God and violence feel like a plea for compassion, for a spirituality that refuses cruelty in all its forms.
In the end, the piece becomes a quiet call to return to ourselves to choose peace, clarity, and humanity over habit and fear.