Within the whiteness lie the former stages. As whiteness emerges from blue, from black, and from great heat ('"White medicine is brought to perfection in the third degree of fire"),[92] so these prior conditions are there within the albedo itself. It must tell us of itself as sweet, soft, and cool, just because it is always threatened by its own red copper, its propensity for sulfur, its hot and black inner nature. It is precisely this inherent putrefaction that distinguishes the albedo from the primary states of whiteness (innocence, purity, ignorance) and guarantees the soul against its own corrupting effects.
— James Hillman
Whiteness earned is not the same as whiteness inherited. What Hillman is tracking in the alchemical albedo is the difference between a clarity that has passed through blackening and a purity that never had to — and the difference is everything, because only the first kind holds. The second dissolves the moment heat returns, which it always does.
The softness and coolness the albedo advertises are not its nature but its report of what it contains. It calls itself sweet because it knows what is underneath: the sulfurous red copper, the propensity to ignite, the black it came out of and still carries. That prior darkness isn't a contamination of the white state — it's what makes the white state real, what keeps it from collapsing back into innocence, which is just ignorance wearing better clothes.
This is where spiritual work most often goes wrong. The appeal of purity is precisely that it promises an end to the mess — that if you go far enough into light, heat, and blackness become someone else's problem. But the albedo in Hillman's reading is not an escape from putrefaction; it is putrefaction held. The soul that has been through something carries its history chemically, in its very texture. Corruption remembered is what keeps it from being corrupted again.
James Hillman·Alchemical Psychology·2010