The Chinmoku
- ISN LAB
- Nov 15
- 3 min read

In all cultures, we communicate much more than we say. Gestures, postures, glances, and even silence are part of the language through which we build relationships. In Japan, silence 沈黙 is not a void between sentences, but an authentic way of communicating. As linguist Deborah Tannen writes, “silence can consist of saying nothing, yet meaning something.”
Silence is more frequent and longer in Japanese conversations than in Western ones. This habit has deep roots: on the one hand in the cultural and religious history of the country, and on the other in the strong collective consciousness that characterizes Japanese society.
Traditionally, silence has been considered a virtue, a sign of sincerity and self-control. Expressions such as haragei 腹芸, literally “the art of the belly,” or ishin denshin 以心伝心, “heart-to-heart communication,” reflect the idea that truth and authenticity reside more in the inner self than in words. This concept has been reinforced by Zen, which focuses on silent practice and intuitive knowledge. In traditional Japanese arts, from kadō 花道, the art of flower arranging, to shodō 書道, calligraphy, from Nō theater to music, silence is not absence, but active space: ma 間, the interval that gives rhythm and meaning to what is happening.
Silence also has a social function: in a culture where group logic prevails, speaking too soon or openly contradicting can be perceived as disrespectful or a desire to show off. The adage ‘the nail that sticks out gets hammered down’ 出る杭は打たれる sums up this tension well: silence becomes a form of harmony, a tool for maintaining balance and consensus. In everyday communication, this attitude manifests itself in what is called enryo-sasshi 遠慮・察し: moderation and intuition. Before speaking, one assesses whether one's words might upset the other person or alter the atmosphere; only what appears “safe” and non-invasive is expressed. It is an explicit filtering system that privileges sensitivity over clarity.
Of course, silence is not always harmony. In some cases, it can become distance, rejection, or even a form of defense; one may remain silent out of respect, but also out of convenience. In any case, it is not equivalent to a lack of content, but is an invisible language that complements words.
In intercultural contexts, this can lead to misunderstandings: for those from more verbal cultures, silence can seem like disinterest, and for the Japanese, talking too much can mean intrusiveness. But it is precisely in this space of differences that we find the key to understanding how different cultures shape relationships. Silence, like words, can say a lot: you just need to know how to listen to it.
In the world of global business, knowing how to listen to silence can make the difference between a fragile understanding and a genuine agreement.
The Japanese Chinmoku reminds us that not everything that matters is said in words: even in a meeting room, between pauses and glances, trust, respect, and leadership are negotiated.
Learning to recognize and use these spaces of silence means training a key skill for every decision maker: conscious presence.
The conference “Negotiating with Asian Markets” on November 25th, 2025, will be a unique opportunity to explore how invisible communication (tone, gestures, silence) can be transformed into a strategic lever of influence and agreement.
Register now—places are limited and reserved for negotiation and leadership professionals.
(Text by Roberta Nardi, supervised by Flavia Milesi)


