The Art of Polite Subtraction

Abstract. A word with a confusing reputation. One may picture a canvas that has been slapped with jam by a three year old. And perhaps licked too. Fair imagination. But expressing in abstraction isn’t always vague. On the contrary, it’s defined by solid discipline and focus. 

Try it on something ordinary. Like describing a tiger. Option 1. Long-whiskered wild cat; predator and lives in a dense forest. Option 2. Jungle cat; orange; black stripes; Sher Khan; will not cuddle.

Abstraction picks the second. It offers clarity. The first could have been a lioness, a panther or a rebellious housecat that has gone off to find its soulmate in the woods. Abstraction thinks in complexity and expresses in simplicity. Good design does the same. Good writing too. It edits. It chooses. It spares.

I am not a designer but I do watch from the sidelines. And from this vantage point, I have observed that the finest things travel far because they’re edited; not because they’re louder. In a world optimised for more, the brave choice is often less. 

Anyone can add. Addition is easy. And it may or may not be accompanied by sense. I can make a cat wear a hat and call it progressive thinking. Does it make sense to everyone? To most, probably not. Also, poor cat. 

Subtraction is innovation. Subtraction takes spine. The cleanest apps and objects feel confident because they originally left things out. Like a pencil. It writes and erases. Beautiful. A timeless classic that continues to perform its part. Any other ornament on a pencil is just that— an ornament. When you take it off, the pencil remains. 

And then there’s essence. What about essence? What about it? It’s the spirit of something that is hard to find and harder to keep. What if subtraction removes this very soul of a thing? Subtraction and essence get along just fine, I assure you.

How? You ask. Well, subtraction isn’t necessarily erasure. It simply gets rid of the fluff. Like a sieve. What is left is pure essence. And essence stays quiet. Think of it like an MTV Unplugged performance. If one removes the noise, a song truly reveals itself. I got that from Rick Rubin so it isn’t exactly original. But if you look at Clapton’s acoustic version of Layla, you can see how the song— stripped of other instruments, survives. It thrives even. Abstraction at its best. 

If abstraction is applied to most things, it might be possible to find unusual delight. And what is often brought to the surface along with essence, is purpose. The coolest things are those that you don’t notice until you need them. Like a sewing needle. You can walk around with a chic hole in your trousers and wait for it to grow. Or fish a needle and thread from a biscuit tin and be respectable in a few minutes. The point is, good design disappears. Abstraction sees that. Another idea stolen from Dieter Rams. Purpose is embedded in this tiny needle. It is blended in it so seamlessly that it hides until things go wrong. Then it appears quickly to fix the fabric and slips back into the tin, to be ignored again but never forgotten. Yet it dutifully serves its purpose. Abstraction in action.  So, if this were to be made into a formula, here’s what it might look like:

Subtraction × Abstraction = Essence + Purpose = Enough.

A mathematician might flinch while reading this but I hope it summarises this thread neatly. An abstract about abstraction. 

Look, abstraction costs. It takes work to be simple and clear. Like most things and processes, it begins with a jumble of squiggles and ends up with a tidy line. The chaos is a part of the journey. Perhaps it serves as a reminder to do the honest bit first and focus on what matters most. Perhaps less than is greater than.