Papyrus replaced clay tablets as the medium of choice for ancient Egyptian writers. Although some Egyptian papyrus scrolls have writing on both sides, the dominant practice of the Greeks was to write on a single side. Eventually, the reeds from which papyrus was made were overharvested, and political exigencies restricted the export of papyrus from Egypt, particularly from Alexandria. To produce a supply of some medium on which to write, the people of Pergamum in modern day Turkey turned to preparing goat and sheepskins to make “parchment.” Parchment more readily lent itself to two-sided writing.
 
Writing on two sides of a sheet of wood-pulp paper is a common practice today, and generally all publishers of books, magazines, and newspapers follow the practice. Yet, in all that two-sided writing most of what we read is one-sided. Yes, I know. That statement compares apples and oranges. But maybe that, too, is a metaphor for what we do. Someone writes on apple skins only; another writes on orange peels. Few who like to write on apple skins bother to read what is on orange peels. And, of course, vice versa. 

Friedrich Nietzsche once remarked, “A pair of powerful spectacles has sometimes sufficed to cure a person in love.” We might also apply that statement to our philosophical , political, and social adherences.
 
We seem to vacillate between two views: Far back and up close. When we seek confirmation of our feelings and beliefs, we stand at a distance that diminishes details and provides an overall view. When we seek proof that someone else’s principles are misguided or wrong, we stand up close, put on powerful spectacles, and see details.
 
Got an infatuation with your beliefs? It’s time to put on powerful spectacles when you look in the mirror. You might just cure yourself.