The diagram offers just one interpretation among many: a visual way to suggest that every element in a hierarchy contains its own mini-hierarchy, and so on—an endless, anastomosed structure of nested systems. The names may shift, but the core idea stays the same. It’s our knowledge that draws the lines and defines the extent of this vast, branching tree.
Today, we think we’ve mapped the boundaries where the infinitely large and the infinitely small end. Yet with each scientific advance, those borders are pushed ever further.
But some philosophical questions arise: is our reality fractal in nature? Not necessarily. It may be that each entity, each element within this hierarchical branching structure, is fundamentally different from the others. And more than that—borrowing and reworking an idea from Aristotle—the whole is not merely the sum of its parts; it is something else entirely… and, in a way, the reverse is also true.
Yes, the branches may indeed extend infinitely, forming a structure that resembles a bridge stretching endlessly, anchored to no shore—a true paradox. Strange, perhaps. Stranger still: although our reality may not be fractal in the strict sense, we might consider it holographic in nature. From any single, distinct element, it is possible to reconstruct a part—or even the whole—of what surrounds it.
This phenomenon has a name in Latin: pars pro toto—a part that reflects the whole. In this sense, everything is contained within each of us, even in our differences.
I’ll end with a thought: if we perceive an ordered world amid the chaos of complexity, it is likely due to our remarkable ability to intuit patterns and to organize what we call reality according to the logics we ourselves invent. That, perhaps, is the most beautiful illusion of all.
