September 2024 Archive

The American John Cage (1912-1992) was a composer who is probably known for just one work: 4’33”. It is an experimental piece that can be performed by any instrument and, even better, by any person.

The score instructs the performer to NOT play their instrument for exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds, because the “music,” in this case, consists of the ambient sounds that the audience hears during the performance.

In short, a very simple little piece of music.

But, no matter how much this might seem like pure nonsense (I, for instance, wouldn’t pay to attend such a concert, since I could play it for free on the piano here at home), there is an interesting question to analyze not by what it is, but by what is around it.

Imagine a piece of paper with nothing written or drawn on it. Just a blank space.

This empty area actually has the same importance as the written or drawn elements on it. It is this separation of background and elements, as well as sound and silence, that explains the dependence our perception has on the surrounding environment.

Take, for example, the classic image of the two heads facing each other.

Or am I seeing a white vase? In any case, both options are valid. Figure and background have the same importance.

Similarly, we can say that size and brightness are also relative. Look at the figure below and say without thinking: are the shades of gray in the central square of these two figures the same?

They are. The simultaneous contrast of the surrounding squares is what ends up deceiving our eyes.

And what about the diameter of the central dots in the two illustrations—are they the same?

Yes, they are. The small and large dots around them, when seen side by side, create this perception.

So, now that we know that there is no such thing as “nothing” and that even the illusory emptiness of a blank page has its function in design, I had an idea: I’m going to write a book with only blank pages.

Preferably one where the reader can read for exactly four minutes and thirty-three seconds.

I once heard about a guy who went to a rock concert. When he was leaving, he saw a huge line to pay for parking. Instead of waiting, he approached two big guys who were almost at the front of the line and asked them:

“Can I skip ahead? It´s because I really hate waiting in lines.”

To his surprise, they said yes. The simple fact that he gave a reason, even if it was completely absurd, worked in his favor and let him cut in line.

This highlights a principle that marketing professionals have known for a long time: giving a reason when asking for something can make a big difference.

I often say that the customer isn’t king; the customer is a partner. If they have a problem and you have the solution, it’s a perfect match: they buy your product or service, you get paid, and everyone’s happy.

But sometimes, customers hesitate, delay, or avoid payment altogether. This can be especially tricky when the relationship isn’t contractual.

Take designers, for instance. They often provide services without any formal safeguards, but neither you nor I are a bank.

For two months, I had to keep reminding a client to pay for a small project I had completed and delivered. It wasn’t a large amount, but it was a real hassle to get paid.

Finally, one day, I wrote to her and explained why I was asking for the payment. Miraculously, the money appeared in my account shortly after.

Of course, not everything works out this perfectly every time. But generally speaking, there’s no need to shout or throw a tantrum. Sometimes, all it takes is a brief explanation—no matter how unusual it may seem—to get what we want.

And now, since you’ve read this far, could you please do me a favor? Comment on this post.

It´s because I really hate waiting in lines.