Arrival: Breaking the cage of linear time
Have you watched the movie Arrival (2016)? It’s a masterpiece that approaches “first contact” not through laser beams, but through linguistics. Most sci-fi assumes aliens think like us, just with better tech. But Arrival challenges our very cognitive frame.
The aliens, “Heptapods,” use a circular, three-dimensional script. To them, time is not a straight line from past to future; they see all of time simultaneously. Their “letters” aren’t written in a sequence—they are expressed as a single, complex thought-image. This blew my mind. It’s a reminder that our perception of reality is limited by the language we use and the three dimensions we inhabit. We are often prisoners of a cognitive cage we don’t even know exists.
Gattaca: The invisible walls of cognition
We see another “cognitive wall” in the 1997 classic Gattaca. The film explores a future where DNA determines your destiny. In a hauntingly beautiful scene, the protagonist Vincent (who lacks “superior” genes) watches a pianist with twelve fingers perform a piece of incredible complexity.
Vincent, ever the optimist, says, “Twelve fingers or one, it’s how you play.” But Irene, a genetically “valid” person, coldly replies, “That piece can only be played with twelve.”
This dialogue is harsh but profound. Vincent believes in the power of hard work, yet he is blind to a structural reality: a ten-fingered person literally cannot play music designed for twelve. **If you watch this scene and simply think, “Vincent is so naive,” you might still be blind to the existence of these walls yourself.
Think about it: when most of us look up at the night sky, we think, “It’s beautiful,” or we wonder how to charm the person standing next to us. These are simple, primal reactions that haven’t changed in human history. But Newton looked at that same sky and asked, “Why doesn’t the moon fall?” The most terrifying thing is not the wall itself, but the fact that we often don’t even realize how thick the wall in front of us really is.

The “Presence” of silence: Designing the space between
This brings us to the Japanese concept of “Ma” (間)—the beauty of empty space or silence. In many Western cultures, silence in a meeting is often seen as “nothing” or an awkward void. In Japan, however, silence is a “presence.” It is a space filled with unspoken thoughts, mutual understanding, and shared atmosphere. We don’t hear “nothing”; we hear the Ma.
Our new chair, designed by Gwenael Nicolas, was born from this unique cognitive frame. Nicolas, born in France but a resident of Japan for over 30 years, has developed a “hybrid” cognition. He designed the space between the armrests not as a void, but as an intentional element of the chair’s beauty.
Just as the Heptapods see time differently and Newton saw gravity where others saw beauty, this chair invites you to see the “emptiness” as something substantial. It’s not just a place to sit; it’s a design that encourages you to step outside your usual cognitive frame and appreciate the elegance of what isn’t there.
Breaking through your cognitive frame allows you to see the world in a new light. Why not invite a masterpiece into your space that turns a legendary icon into a tangible reality?


Shungo Ijima
Global Connector | Reformed Bureaucrat | Professional Over-Thinker
After years of navigating the rigid hallways of Japan’s Ministry of Finance and surviving an MBA, he made a life-changing realization: spreadsheets are soulless, and wood has much better stories to tell.
Currently an Executive at CondeHouse, he travels the world decoding the “hidden DNA” of Japanese culture—though, in his travels, he’s becoming increasingly more skilled at decoding how to find the cheapest hotels than actual cultural mysteries.
He has a peculiar talent for finding deep philosophical meaning in things most people ignore as meaningless (and to be fair, they are often actually meaningless). He doesn’t just sell furniture; he’s on a mission to explain Japan to the world, one intellectually over-analyzed observation at a time. He writes for the curious, the skeptical, and anyone who suspects that a chair might actually be a manifesto in disguise.
Follow his journey as he bridges the gap between high-finance logic and the chaotic art of living!

