The Gradual Reduction of Impulses

The American Conductor Benjamin Zander introduced me to the expression “gradual reduction of impulses”. Maestro Zander spoke about teaching young children to play the piano. Students are instructed to hold their bodies in a specific way, coached on the mechanics of fingering a piano and of course they are taught how to read music. Along the way, impulses, both physical and mental, are formed. For instance, slight but unwanted physical movements are introduced: breathing in when the musician should be exhaling and pauses inserted between measures where pauses don't belong. According to the purist, these impulses need to be reduced or eliminated in order to achieve the intent of a specific piece. 

In many cases impulses are reduced or eliminated based on maturity or practice. In other cases, there is never a resolution. Does this make a musician less of an artist? No, not necessarily. The result of an unintended impulse is distinction, a nuance or nuances that nudge purity toward authenticity and expression. It is up to the beholder to decide if those impulses improve or diminish an experience.

If this consideration is expanded to the world of design, we might contemplate the plight of the designer who bemoans the fate of a designed experience in the hands of a consumer unwilling to strictly adhere to the intent of that design. Our efforts provide us with confidence until we observe aberrant behaviors that look vaguely or nothing like the experience we intended. Our job is to motivate people to act, react or respond to stimuli. What humility should a designer possess to overlook these unforeseen impulses that might develop? Where is this place that sits between the objectivity of the creator and the subjectivity of the audience?

In practice and philosophy, phenomenology offers guidance. Developed in the mid-19th century, phenomenology posits that there is a gap between the world as it exists and the world as it exists independently in our minds. The 19th century German philosopher, Immanuel Kant, said there was a distinction between “things as they are” and “things as we perceive them”. Does a person with color blindness experience grass in the same way as a person who is able to see color? Further to the point, do two people who are able to see color, experience grass the same way?

There is an even more profound, and controversial, form of phenomenological inquiry (existential phenomenology), which states that, the sciences, such as physics, biology and psychology, do not sufficiently explain the human condition or what we know about the human condition. This viewpoint postulates subjective insight must be considered before any conclusions are drawn and the totality of an experience must be considered rather than the discreet parts. 

In no way am I suggesting that designers dispense with what we believe to be scientific certainties. I am however suggesting that we should revel in unintended impulses of humans who choose not to follow a prescriptive journey. 

Simply put, phenomenology reinforces human-centric design hypotheses and should act as an incentive for designers and executives to adopt a beneficial humility that obligates us to see deeper and execute with meaning.