Closure: The Unsung Hero of Visual Thinking

Because Who Doesn't Love a Cliffhanger?

The tension's boiling up, your heart's in your throat, and then, the TV goes to black. But not just any black—it's the kind of black that abruptly takes you to the edge of a narrative cliff, your brain sprinting to fill in the blanks. Sound familiar? That's not just good storytelling; that's closure—or rather, lack of it, an ace baton in the hands of a maestro.

It is more than just rounding off; it is a psychological experience where the brain concludes what remains hanging in the balance. It is that itch in your brain that can't be scratched, the great desire for everything to fit properly into little compartments with every blank filled. But here's the kicker: closure isn't just about the endgame. It belongs to one of the most fundamental aspects of the way we perceive and think about the world, especially in terms of visual thinking. Ever thought of why a plain drawing of a circle even with a gap in it still appears to be a circle? Well, that's closure in action.

But let's not kid ourselves —closure is not a magical unicorn that comes racing when there is even so much as a little narrative pause. No, it is a deep seated cognitive principle, one with a history as deep and tawdry as that of your favourite soap opera plot twist.

 From Gestalt to Pop Culture Cliffhangers

Ours is not a story of conclusion in a land of fiction but was actually played in the holy rings of Gestalt psychology. Observant German psychologists had, in the early part of the 20th century, noticed something rather weird: our brains have this really irritating habit of seeing incomplete images as complete. "Closure" was coined as the term for this phenomenon by wise people that they were. Well, it ain't per se about some emotional resolution, but rather literally, the actual completion of forms in our visual field.

As one of these brainiacs, Kurt Koffka, famously quipped, "The whole is other than the sum of its parts." Now, it may sound like something off a fortune cookie, but it really is a very rich insight into how we, as human beings, do the business of visual processing. This principle of closure doesn't only help us recognize shapes in abstract art; it's what allows us to read between the lines in an unfinished story or to sense the looming threat in a horror movie even before the monster appears.

So, why is closure such a big deal? It's because our brains are designed for efficiency—we're always looking for patterns and seeking to make sense out of the chaos, and yes, to complete things that have been left unfinished. Alright, take for instance the ending of The Sopranos, where the TV screen goes black. Some fans were angry; others loved the ambiguity—how it had their minds filling in the blanks. Tony Soprano's fate? Well, that was closure at work—just not the kind that will make you feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

The Unsuspected Power of the Unfinished: An Anecdote or Two

Consider, in that regard, two unlikely sources of case studies when it comes to closure in the more creative sense of the word. They are sources that do not jump out in anyone's mind upon first thought but that, nonetheless, stand out in their own rights for the power of the unfinished.

First, we head to the universe of literature and make a visit to the Iceberg Theory of Ernest Hemingway. Hemingway was the gruff literary giant with a penchant for big-game hunting and terse prose, who says that the most powerful stories are those in which most of the substance lies beneath the surface. Think of his famous six-word story: "For sale: baby shoes, never worn." It's not what's said, but what isn't that gives this sentence its punch. Your mind jumps to fill in the gaps, to flesh out a story from these few words. That's closure: the art of letting the reader's imagination complete the story for you.

Next, let's delve into the world of avant-garde dance with Pina Bausch. Her choreography has left audiences questioning, thinking hard—and, most importantly, feeling. In the performances of Bausch, there is evidently room for no closure in movements. Instead, one is left to fill in the meaning of the dance. It is just like having a jigsaw puzzle with a couple of pieces missing—you can actually see the picture, but it is your mind that completes it.

Both Hemingway's minimalist prose and Bausch's ambiguous choreography show the power of closure. Each demonstrates that what is left unsaid or undone can be just as potent, if not more so than what is made explicit.

We Are Cognitive: Making Closure in Motion

At We Are Cognitive, we live and breathe visual thinking. From whiteboard animations to rich illustrations, closure is at the heart of what we do. That's why with a whiteboard animation, we don't hit you with all the information in one shot. We reveal one part at a time so your mind is involved, thinking about, processing, and… actually completing that picture. Not a clever design trick but a seriously thought-out technique based on principles of closure

Consider our work in explainer animations. We create stories that are incomplete visually, but do so intentionally; that is, by holding back certain information, we truly engage the viewer's mind. As the animation progresses, viewers subconsciously fill in the gaps, making connections between ideas that may seem to be unrelated at first glance. This isn't about concealing information; it's about encouraging active participation. And by doing so, we help inform, teach, enable, and evoke— guiding our audience to new realizations through the power of visual closure.

The best representation of this is the rich picture we have been working on together. These are detailed illustrations with busyness bordering on excess that welcome one to engage with the story one might paint from what is being portrayed. Crucially, however, they don't tell everything; rather, they leave a number of the spaces—both actual and conceptual—that the reader needs to fill in, effectively making the sense-making process as important as the information itself.

Why Closure Matters : The Four Pillars of Cognitive Engagement

Closure, then, isn't just a good thing in visual thinking; it's a necessity. It informs by engaging the mind, making information more concise as the viewer actively tries to complete the picture. It teaches through the provision of just enough information to guide but not so much as to remove the need for critical thinking. It enables by way of decision signposting, allowing viewers to come up with their own conclusions. and it motivates by eliciting the all-important 'aha!’

This isn't just theory—it's the bedrock of our work at We Are Cognitive. Every explainer video, rich picture, or animation has at its core closure. When helping people change what they know, believe, and feel, one can do more than just tell them—it needs to engage them, to draw them into the process, to let them be part of the story.

The Practical Magic of Closure: Bringing It All Together

So, what does all this mean in the greater scheme of things? It is the understanding that visual thinking—as in life—sometimes less is more. Often, the most powerful thing one can do is to leave something incomplete. It is for these reasons that a masterpiece of art can evoke emotions despite never showing you everything, or why a well-placed pause in a speech can be far more impactful than a thousand words.

As you go about creating, consider the power of what cannot be said, shown, and shown again. Let closure be at your disposal—not merely how to end—how you let engagement, learning, and inspiration unfold. Lastly, remember that the best stories, images, and ideas are those that leave room for the audience to contribute. That's where magic is made.

Closure in Today's World For the act of giving meaning and marking the road really runs counter to the life everyone spends these days in this hasty, hyperconnected world, where any deeper piece of information is just a tap away. Slow down, engage with the process, and see the beauty of unfinished things. So, the next time you get irritated over an incomplete story or an unfilled picture, remember these words: This is not a bug; it's a feature.

And it's one that, when used thoughtfully, can lead to deeper understanding and greater creativity.

Further Reading: Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud

Understanding Comics by Scott McCloud is for those looking to delve deeper into the concept of closure, Scott McCloud's Understanding Comics is a must-read. McCloud explores closure in the context of comics, revealing how our minds fill the gaps between panels in a comic, turning general and separate images into a coherent story. It is a fascinating read, really delving into these principles that we have been describing today. A very interesting look at so many concepts in terms of interpreting visual information.

What McCloud will do will give you a much wider perspective on closure, and hopefully open new ways of thinking about communicating visually. 

Thus, as you turn that last page in the newsletter, kindly remember: the story doesn't end here. It is just the beginning. The rest is up to you.