Simplicity, the ultimate sophistication

 
I’m attracted by simplicity. Not the simplicity that has never considered an issue, but the simplicity that emerges from careful consideration.  It is what Oliver Wendell Holmes called “the simplicity on the other side of complexity.” Problems begin in a haze of uncertainty and normally become more complex before the light begins to dawn. So I’m not advocating an uninformed simplicity but the simplicity that emerges from genuine involvement with the issue.
       Simplicity is an important goal in a number of realms of life. For instance, although few in contemporary American culture ‘shave adopted it, there is a certain beauty in the simple lifestyle.  I’m not talking about poverty, but the decision to live simply so that time, energy, and resources can be spent on things that matter.  I have a son who refuses to be caught up in the gotta-have-it mentality. He holds that ”whatever you own, owns you,” and the more I think about it, the more I think he’s absolutely correct.
       Then there is simplicity in design.  John Maeda, president of the Rhode Island School of Design, is widely known for his emphasis on ”Designing for Simplicity.” Apple’s success stems in large part from Steve Jobs’ commitment to simplicity in design. It’s been said that a work of art is not finished until there is nothing left that can be taken away. The point is best made with Leonardo da Vinci’s conclusion that “Simplicity is the ultimate sophistication.”
       On a very practical level there is what we might call simplicity in communication. There are very few things that can’t be said more effectively with fewer words. A convincing speaker evades unnecessary verbiage and makes his point with an easily remembered phrase, e. g., ”tax the rich.” Have you ever noticed that a common tactic in a ”debate” is the claim, ”It isn’t as simple as that.” The insistence on that kind of complexity comes from a personal need to confuse the issue.
       I agree with Confucius when he said, “Life is very simple, but we insist on making it complicated.” As a Christian believer approaching his ninety sixth birthday, I see with clarity that the only critical issue in this brief moment we call life is preparation for eternity. All that seems to have absorbed our energies and time suddenly becomes beside the point.  Who was it that, on the scaffold, said, “Depend upon it, sir, when a man knows he is to be hanged in a fortnight, it concentrates his mind wonderfully?” I am not suggesting that we abandon intellectual pursuits, but that we maintain a priority that prevents the inconsequential, with all its confusion and complexity, to replace the simplicity of that which has eternal significance.