When an arrow leaves the string in a forward direction, it flexes side to side. In slow motion, it almost appears as if the arrow is snaking its way towards the target. This is called the "archer's paradox."
As stated by Wikipedia: it is the "phenomenon of an arrow traveling in the direction it is pointed at full draw, when it seems that the arrow would have to pass through the starting position it was in before being drawn, where it was pointed to the side of the target."
Some bow makers have even gone to the extent to modify the riser of the bow to have a window directly in line with the arrow so as to limit, if not eliminate this paradox.
Keep in mind, one aspect of this paradox is the flexing of the arrow's shaft. This, no matter the style of bow (excluding air bows) will still result in some flexing. The softer the shaft (the spine) and the greater the poundage of the bow, the greater that flexing will be.
Yet for millennia, archer's have compensated. Regardless of the existence of the paradox, archer's have perfected their skills to compensate for this mysterious factor.
Recently, as I prepare for opening day of archery season, I was studying arrow building and a YouTuber coined a phrase that intrigued me - impact paradox.
To paraphrase, his theory is that an arrow traveling at speed will, upon impact with a target medium, flex much in the same way as when it released from the string due to the force exerted upon impact and the energy dissipated through the remainder of the arrow, reducing the effective penetration of said arrow.
My whole life I have been raised with the belief that we are born with purpose. Like an arrow fired from a bow we are on a journey to a target, a target we may not know or see, but are propelled toward nonetheless. The force of our sending may seem great or insignificant, but much of that may be effected by our character, our "spine" as it were.
Some of us are made of firmer stuff. Some have been honed and sharpened to be the best we can, much like Olympic athletes. The challenge is that unlike those who aspire to win precious metals, many of us are just trying to get there - wherever there is.
The idea of impact paradox is fascinating because unlike the archer's paradox, it has less to do with flight and more to due with the results of being sent. In life, we can practice to be precise, for our aim to be as true as we can make it. But ultimately is it not about how we are propelled so much as how, and where, we hit the target.
In hunting, vitals are the only suitable target to aim for. Ethical hunting requires hunters to be precise and effective, hitting those points that result in the quickest and pain-less expiration as possible. If the arrow flies true, irrespective of the paradox, and hits its mark but suffers energy dissipation, the result may be a wounded and suffering animal. One never able to be harvested.
So the build of the arrow then becomes crucial. And this is where understanding both paradoxes are important. There are several sections in arrow building that become essential: points, nocks, inserts, shaft, and fletching. And of those sections weight, length, quantity, form, installation all can impact the performance. No longer should it be acceptable to simply buy a set of pre-made arrows and points and shoot until you are "tuned" to the bow and able to hit your mark. Now it is about tuning the arrow, then skill.
We can't always decide our destination. But we can hone our effectiveness to do what we need to do when we get there. In another post I talked about the Secret of Three. Where these cross is the build of the arrow. The point, the shaft, and the fletchings. Consider a moment the point is hope, the faith is faith and the fletchings are love. When our hope is strong, weighty and to the point, faith becomes integral, riding that sharpened tip towards its objective. With love, love of life, family, friends, God, the arrow stays on course, propelled to hit the mark. Hope is that thing that makes all the difference. Our faith may flex as we chase our mark. And love helps keep us on track. But without that sharp point, heavy with hope, we may just bounce right off the target.
You can have the strongest, stiffest faith and perfectly aligned and shaped love, but without the point, there's not much to be had. Hope isn't the thing that should drive us, it's the thing that should enable us to land our target.
This is no different in hunting. My hope isn't that the bullet or arrow makes its way to the deer's vitals, it's that once it's there, it is severe and complete in its delivery. The impact paradox suggests that the target can affect the effectiveness of the arrow (or even bullet). A shoulder blade, a rib, or just heavy muscle can alter the impact. But weight your hope. Faith is good. Love necessary. But hope, that's the thing that drives everything home. With a proper build, there's no chasing the trophy - it's assured.
Now I could get philosophical about all of this. But the importance should be evident. Life messes with our aim. That's where skill comes in. Our environment and circumstances (think rain and branches) can seem like hard obstacles to overcome. But it's been said - run the race to win, doing everything you can to ensure you finish the race. This is arrow building. Shooting for hours and hours to develop reflexes keeps you ready for the hunt. But having done everything, including the right arrow, will determine if you take the deer or wander through the thick looking for blood trails.
