The blank page, the empty space, the paradox of choice
Probably the most difficult challenge for a writer is a blank page, and for a sculptor an
empty space. Way too many options.
In starting a work, I have always found it helpful to begin work with a small visual element such as an unprepossessing diagram, or, for a sculpture, a couple of pieces of bent metal. The theory soon emerges, a theory probably already implicitly lurking in the practical
choice of the beginning element itself. I have no interest in premature grand theories, which tendentiously limit the scope of inquiry.
That initial element contains an enormous number of built-in decisions that limit the scope of the intellectual or visual problem at hand, thankfully preventing the paralysis that
results from the overwhelming unlimited scope of decision contained in a blank page or empty space. The initial element provides a leverage point for expression. Also that starting element helps to find a problem that one can actually make progress on; there are
no rewards, rightly so, for choosing an important problem but one on which no intellectual progress can be made. (This is the point of Peter Medawar’s insightful essay on “The Art of the Soluble”. Or part of the point of Steve Jobs’ remark that “real artists ship”.)
I remember these particular instances: The Visual Display of Quantitative Information began with a long letter (back when I was a political economist) to the editor of a political science journal critiquing a complexly silly statistical graphic in the journal, a letter that I had no particular reason to write other than to start talking about statistical graphics and their credibility. And Visual Explanations began with a little diagram of a glass of water in a book on magic. Both were clear and decisive moments in starting something new.
Two conclusions: (1) to be enormously thoughtful about the choice of the initial element and look at many possibilities before deciding which initial element and (2) to recognize the power of the initial element in solving or limiting certain issues and thus make the work manageable. One of the most important qualities of good thinking is a deep sense of the relevant, the wise specification of the relevant domain.
The starting element should not be found by the accident of what comes across one’s desk. It is should be found by active extensive search, by experiencing a vast number of possible starting elements.
These comments merely describe my work strategies and are not meant as recommendations for others (although sometimes I have made these points to graduate students pursuing their dissertations). Your mileage may differ.
It turns out that behavioral economists have already described the importance of limiting the domain of decision. Here’s an account by Jacob Weisberg, applied to the new prescription drug program.
