If you want to communicate better, don’t start with a slide deck.
Turn off the lights.
On a Saturday night in Adelaide, I walked into a small theatre and sat on stage with nine other performers. We turned out to face the audience, lit by a gentle glow of neon.
Then the lights went out. For the next hour, we performed an improvised show called The Bat in complete darkness.
With no script and no visibility, every story was created on the spot using nothing but sound. If it couldn’t be heard, it didn’t exist.
What became clear was how much we rely on being seen to support what we’re saying. When that disappears, so do the shortcuts. What’s left is the real work of communication. So here’s what you can take away from my time in the dark.
Lesson 1: Say what you mean
In the dark, ambiguity kills a scene.
If you mime opening a fridge, no one knows it’s there. If you refer to someone without naming them, they’re gone. If you shift location without saying it, the scene collapses.
The only way forward is to clearly state what’s happening.
- “Dad, I’m looking in the fridge and there’s nothing here.”
- “The surf’s rough out there today, Brady, please be careful.”
That level of clarity gives your scene partner detail to use and respond to.
At work, the same problem shows up, just more politely and under better lighting. We say things like:
- “We should extend the project.”
- “Let’s catch up soon.”
- “That idea might not work.”
These sound efficient, but they leave room for interpretation. People walk away with different understandings, and the work slows down.
To fix this, you must first know what you are trying to say yourself. This in itself can be difficult – we often use vague words to cover up gaps in our own thinking, or to hide our true intentions.
Once we know what we want to say, then we can give enough context and detail so that others understand as well:
- “We need to extend the deadline by two weeks so the engineering team can complete testing.”
- “Let’s catch up on Monday next week, I’ll send you an invite.
- “The idea has a proven framework, but we don’t yet have partner buy-in to make it a success”
When people know what’s happening, they can act. When they don’t, you’re both left fumbling around in the dark.
Lesson 2: Listen to understand
In the dark, if you miss a line, you feel it immediately.
There’s no facial expression or eye contact to recover. If you respond to the wrong thing, everyone hears it. If you hesitate, the scene stalls. It moves on without you, and you either catch up fast or fall out of it.
So you learn to listen properly.
At work, we rely on safety nets. We half-listen while preparing our reply, knowing we can fall back on slides, agendas, or data. We respond to what we expected to hear, not what was actually said, and smooth it over later.
That’s not how you get the best results. For instance, if you’re in a meeting and a colleague says “I’m worried about the supplier,” you can start drilling them about their position, “Don’t worry, they’re great, they always deliver on time.”
But what if delivery is not the concern. What if it’s the rapidly rising costs? Or the quality of what they plan to deliver? Great communication encourages you to close the laptop, take in what’s been said, and ask questions to check what you know:
- “What part worries you?”
- “What happens if this goes wrong?”
- “Do we have time to course-correct?”
Now you’re responding to the actual problem, not a version you’ve invented. Listening like this takes effort, but without it, you’re building on unstable ground.
Lesson 3: Use the full range of your communication skills
It’s easy to assume that turning off the light limits the show. You don’t get the joy of physicality; the eye candy of the spectacle.
But really, it does the opposite. When sight disappears, everything else becomes more important. A small sound from a footstep, a breath, a shift in volume – these can transform a scene.
While you have fewer tools in total, it forces you to use the ones you typically avoid, like song, poetry, rhythm and percussion.
This is much like the curse of PowerPoint. Speakers get so attached to what’s on their slides that they forget about everything else on stage. How they’re standing, how they use the microphone, how they revel in the energy of the audience.
Purely with the voice alone:
- You have pace – how quickly or slowly you speak.
- You have volume – how far your voice carries.
- You have tone – how high and low your voice sounds.
- You have emphasis – how your words place focus and emotion.
- You have silence – the space that lets ideas breathe.
Each of these elements carries meaning, and each one changes how your message is received.
Most people use only a fraction of this. They deliver information in a flat monotone, then wonder why it doesn’t land. Communication works best when you use the full toolbox.
Final thoughts
When the show ended, the lights came back on. It was the same chairs with the same faces. Nothing in the room had changed.
And yet, on the inside, something had shifted. A collection of strangers had travelled through stories that didn’t exist an hour earlier. Entire worlds had been built and dissolved in the dark.
That only worked because the communication was clear, the listening was focused, and every available tool was used.
You do not need to perform in complete darkness to develop these skills. But it helps to remember what disappears when the lights go out. Because those are the hacks you’re relying on.
When you strengthen what’s left, you communicate better everywhere, not just in the dark.
