Property 13 — The Void

The Void is introduced in The Nature of Order, Book 1[NoO1-01] on page 222.

Sometimes, a significant non-presence is what is lacking. Too much of anything is, again, nothing. One way to think of the void is to create a sense of scale and relevance through the presence of an absence. If your design is devoid of high-level focal points, perhaps it is because there is nothing simpler and larger for them to have value in relation to.

You can find the void in buildings and images, but also in the dynamics of a concert where there is a silent section. It presents itself in a film as a lull leading into action. The void is an active lack placed in a prominent location, bringing about a contrast of information—the part that sets the negative example.

In buildings and artwork, it can be a literal space in the design: a great hall, an emptiness on the canvas. The void can be a way to suggest a place to stand to perceive everything else. The void helps in the way the air in a bubble is fundamental to the skin.

The void also forms a contrast, suggesting what would happen if the rest of the compound was absent. It can make elaborate designs seem more intricate without introducing noise. The void can be a focus. It has a sense of solemnity compared to its surroundings and provides a way to suggest maturity, freedom, or a reflection of the self. What you notice when looking at plans of buildings where there is a void compared to those without is that those with a void have immediate character. They seem like there can be a purposeful assembly. It could be as mundane as the central courtyard of a farm. The large open area between the home and the many outbuildings. The yard is a place welcoming a crowd, but also a gap over which your mode of being can switch from work to home.

Christopher Alexander uses[NoO1-01] a typical 1970s American office building as an example of where the void is missing. They almost never have anything like this. Rather than allocate space for a large hall, they have many smaller meeting rooms. The latent void is often filled with desks, divided by stubby walls upon which yellow notes carry essential information such as passwords. As effective as the void is, it is inefficient and so is removed from all possible suggested floor plans.

But the void need not be empty to be a void. It is simply a calm space—a realm of neutrality amid the intentional design. In a computer game with a vast world, between the noise and information-dense cities or markets, there is often a land of walkable terrain. This terrain can act as a void, even when it contains much wildlife. In this sense, the void amplifies the noise in the game hubs by contrast of opportunity.

I do not see the value of the void in code, but the main loop or the central dispatch might be the hub around which all valuable transformations take place. They provide some of the value of the void. They are something of a focus, but also somewhere to which value is contributed from outside. A main loop does nothing by itself. Neither does a message bus. They are the busy nothing at the centre.