The most important thing I learned from my design degree is also the hardest to implement.
It has application to visual design, but also to productivity, health, work, and so much more.
It's called "white space." It's something most people are uncomfortable with.
White space (or negative space) is the part of a design or artwork that is not the focal point. The part that you see without seeing. It is generally empty—though that doesn't necessarily mean it's colorless nor that it has literally nothing in it.
When inexperienced people design something, you'll see massive violations of white space—we pack as much information or content as possible into the composition. The busier our design, the more comfortable we feel, but the less effective the design has become.
If a design does not respect the white space, it becomes difficult to read or understand. It increases the likelihood of confusion or frustration. It ruins productivity under the pretense of greater productivity.
We do this with work and side projects and social media. Fill up all of the silence, all of the downtime with something. Got 5 minutes? Better do something productive, you won't have that break later!
White space is easy to ignore, squash, devalue. But it has a massive cost.
All of us need time to breathe. All of us need rest to counterbalance our activity.
White space is what brings balance to our work. It adds that space—literally—to our designs and helps our eyes rest when we're reading. It adds time to think, process, and consider. It is the most critical, but hardest to achieve element to success.
Thus, it might be something that provides the value, but it is nothing that provides the utility. —Ch. 11, Dao De Jing, Translated by Roger Ames & David L. Hall
Horror Vacui
This is the fear of empty space.
We know that even "nature abhors a vacuum." So this is something we have to intentionally cultivate. It doesn't usually come "naturally," and it's also easy to overdo once you are more comfortable with the concept.
The thing is, we do naturally appreciate well-balanced empty space. It's all around us from the text we read, to the interior spaces we inhabit, to the use of our time and attention.
Why is it so hard to generate, then, if it's so easy to appreciate when it already exists?
Perhaps there are some cultural elements hiding in the background of this question. If you're more familiar with Western culture and philosophy, there tends to be an absence or at least a devaluing of "empty spaces."
The skill of seeking and protecting negative space will be critical to develop if we want our humanity to shine through from under technology's black-out curtain.
The Millennial Pause
I was watching a Gen Z creator explain his process for creating viral Shorts videos on YouTube.
He described how he is relentless in removing silences, and then dropped this phrase I hadn't heard before. "Get rid of the Millennial pause," after the hook at the start of a video.
Dumbfounded, I realized that the insidious aspect of horror vacui is real, and I believe it's dangerous.
I have not doubt that this creator sees a correlation between cutting out every silent moment and the retention of his videos' viewers. But I'd venture to say that the tactic of removing all pauses and silences is not the true cause of retention.
It's just so easy to jump into the race to the bottom where we optimize anything and everything.
But what do we lose in that race?
Emptiness, silence, and absence are always the first things to go. We put a table in a room and it will never be clear again.
This isn't a problem at first. Until we run out of space. Then we buy more space. Then we run out again.
This is what is happening in our brains. We have some space, some time, so we fill it. Until we run out of space. But we can't buy more space for our attention; for our cognitive load.
I've caught myself too many times over the last few years shoving podcasts, videos, posts, reels, tutorials, music, any content at all into every nook of my mental space. And it's destroying me.
Anxiety and overwhelm at an all-time high.
I can't speak for everyone, but I know for myself, it's because I stopped guarding my most precious asset: empty space.
How to Practice Adding Negative Space
As I've confessed, I'm working my way out of the trap of constant stimulation. So you may be ahead of me or maybe we're in it together. These are some ways I've been exploring to get myself out of it.
- Choose silence for as long as you can take it.
- Increase your output as your input increases.
- Take notes on as many videos / podcasts / books / content that you consume.
Choosing silence
This is hard. Even for an introvert like myself, I've found it harder than ever before.
I've started in increments, though. When I'm doing the dishes, I choose not to listen to a podcast.
Instead, I save my favorite podcasts for "special" occasions. These occasions have to be long—matching the task length to the podcast length if I'm doing chores, for example.
If my task is only going to take a few minutes, I'm all in on that task. I'm not going to start some content if I can't really listen to the whole thing.
This has allowed me to insert more silence into my day, more frequently. It also helps me avoid constant attention interruptions.
Increase your output
I heard it said that an input-only system is an explosion. And that's how I've felt recently.
As my input increased, my output decreased. My mind has had a harder time focusing and I haven't been as imaginative or inspired by the world as before.
This newsletter is one of my attempts to increase my output again.
You don't have to do the same thing. Output can absolutely be a private exercise—taking notes and writing your thoughts in Obsidian or other PKM software. Journalling, blogging, vlogging, posting, drawing, singing.
Any creative endeavor counts in my book. The point is to get yourself engaged in the world again. This gives you an outlet to allow your inputs to inspire you and flow out of you, rather than getting stuck inside and stagnating.
Take notes
This is connected to increasing your output, but it's also a way to slow down content consumption.
I am addicted to YouTube. I love watching my favorite creators. I love creating videos on YouTube. But I have noticed I've turned into a larger consumer of content, because I'm so curious about so many different topics.
My new rule lately has been to try and take notes on as many of the videos as I can.
This slows my watching sessions down (when I stick to the rule, anyway). I can't move onto the next video until I finish writing down my thoughts and references.
This obviously won't work for my favorite entertainment-type videos (cat fails, trick shots, other shenanigans by immature adults). But almost 70% of the videos I watch are educational—and that makes them secretly difficult to deal with.
When education is entertaining, I forget the vast majority of what I learned while watching.
Taking notes helps me remember and process the information.
When I'm watching a video but I don't have a notebook around or just can't take notes like when I'm on the treadmill, I'll pause my session and recite the takeaways I want to remember. I have to remember long enough until I can access my notebook or Obsidian.
This has been a great memory practice for me. Double benefits ;)
Cyborg
Technology eats white space—and tech companies have intentionally designed products to dominate and trap attention. So we have to make an effort to remain in control and to protect that emptiness.
We're fighting our own biology. We're wired to crave information, because that's how we survive.
Now that we're aware of the problem and that negative space is crucial, we have a fighting chance.
Breathe in.
Breathe out.