Steve Jobs' Black Turtleneck

Nothing is the womb of Something.

No one seems to properly understand why Steve Jobs wore black turtlenecks. Even Jobs was vague about it. He said it was “one less decision” to make. That answer points toward the truth, but not the full truth.

Creativity needs a backdrop—a static, solid framework—to work against. Static backgrounds itch. They can't help but coax action, motion, change, dynamism.

The usual backdrop is convention. We skew creative results so they grind provocatively against expectation. Other backdrops—authority, momentum, our own habits and inclinations—work the same way. You can’t skew without a fixed reference point.

If you roil in constant motion—because you live a richly varied life—solid ground appears only when the gears momentarily align. This explains the notorious fickleness of inspiration. Creativity waits for perfect gearing. But if you stabilize yourself—simplify and ground—creativity flows freely. Hence the black turtlenecks. Less moving parts, more static backdrop.

The problem is that creative people feel compelled to fight monotony in every aspect of their lives. They want all gears spinning. But the effort absorbs creativity, so when you pick up your violin, creative flow may not be available. Inspiration hasn't run dry; it's been diverted into a swarm of mundanities.

This is not necessarily a bad thing. Applying creativity to daily mundanities is its own art form. But if you manage innumerable processes, don't expect the Muses to appear the moment you decide to write a poem.

For creativity to flow consistently, that wild spurt must be controlled and channeled. It's a matter of accepting the backdrop (daily routine, present circumstance, "lot in life", etc). Having eased into the poise of monotony, sizzling creative flow becomes available on demand. That's how you bottle lightning.

It's not about "fewer decisions". No matter what, you'll be deciding whether to drink coffee now or in some other moment. We decide something every second. Rather, it's a matter of backgrounding all gears but one, which is deliberately left to spin freely. Magic happens when the only conspicuously moving part absorbs all available creative intensity.

Simplifying—or backgrounding—your wardrobe would be one part of that. Wearing only black turtlenecks takes a process off-line, helps stabilize the backdrop, and seals a potential creativity leak. The more chunks you background, the more propulsive you'll be in the foreground.

If your world appears to spin, you'll remain fixed. Affix your world, and you'll be compelled to dance.


Followup posting: "Peace and Quiet"