Layout artists know the power of white space. What you leave blank emphasizes what you don’t.

Many of us, in conversation, have never learned this lesson. Faced with white space — silence — we immediately fill it in, whether it’s with additional information, a question, an anecdote, or a change of subject. It’s as if silence is a vacuum and we are Mother Nature, instinctively abhorring it.

Don’t abhor silence. It’s a versatile conversational tool. Effective executives know how to use it. Whether you need information, a counteroffer, or a commitment, silence is your friend. So, for that matter, is ignorance.

For example, imagine you’ve just asked a key executive in your company for her support in some business effort you’re championing, and you don’t get any response. Don’t give in to your instinct to fill the uncomfortable silence. The executive is thinking.

Until you know what she’s thinking about, everything you say puts your program at risk. If you offer a reinforcing point she might perceive you to be either pushy or uncertain about the program’s value. Those are two reasons to give an equivocal answer — and remember, in business, maybe means no.

If, on the other hand, you offer her a graceful way out she’s likely to take it. Why would you want to lead her in that direction?

Keep quiet. She’ll give you an answer before the silence becomes too uncomfortable. The ball is in her conversational court, and she knows it.

Imagine the worst happens and she turns you down. Now what? Don’t say a word, that’s what. The only logical question for you to ask is, “May I ask why you’re uncomfortable with the idea?” When you ask this, she’ll answer you, cementing her decision in her own mind and ending the conversation.

If, on the other hand, you remain silent, who knows what she might say next? She might offer an alternative. She might suggest you talk to a colleague who’s been thinking along the same lines you have. She might even offer you the chance to persuade her to change her mind. These are all opportunities you’ll lose if you speak too soon. (If, after a few moments, she indicates it’s your turn to speak, be as noncommittal as you can: “I was hoping you’d elaborate.”)

The use of silence isn’t restricted to negotiations, either. When you’re gathering information, silence on the part of the person you’re asking is an invitation for you to offer an answer. Don’t, even if you know it.

Never underestimate the power of ignorance. If you let your respondent off the hook by providing information too early, you might deprive yourself of valuable results.

Not long ago I was interviewing a business manager as part of a consulting engagement. “What’s the process you go through when you need something from the IT organization?” I asked. I got a puzzled frown in response. I waited a bit, and eventually the business manager said, “You know, I’m not sure.” I asked what he’d like the answer to be, which led to a productive conversation about the lack of an effective process for managing business situations requiring IT support.

Based on earlier interviews I knew perfectly well who he was supposed to call. If I’d filled in the silence with, “According to the IT organizational chart, Fred Schwartz is the analyst who supports your organization,” the manager would most likely have said, “Oh, of course — I work with Fred a lot.” And neither of us would have learned about a barrier that existed between IT and the business.

Years ago, someone or other promoted the idea that the creation of uncomfortable silences was an important way to establish personal power. Maybe it is, although I think it’s more likely to result in a staring contest that makes both participants look and feel foolish. If you’re the sort of person who needs to play that kind of game to gain personal power, and if those around you are dim enough to fall for it, go for it. Just don’t look for help here.

If you’re looking for power, read Machiavelli. But if all you need is to be more effective, remember that if you have a choice between eloquent speech and ignorant silence, choose the latter.

It’s hard to overestimate the power of a dumb look.

As a writer and as a citizen, I’m passionately in favor of freedom of speech. There are some unfortunate individuals, however, from whom it should be withheld for their own protection. Take, for example, the case of Walden O’Dell.

O’Dell chose this unfortunate turn of phrase in an invitation to a Republican fund-raiser: “[I’m] committed to helping Ohio deliver its electoral votes to the president next year.” Which would be no big deal if he weren’t CEO of Diebold Election Systems, the company that delivers more voting machines to our polling places than any other.

Oops. Hey, I’m sure O’Dell was referring to fund-raising and not Diebold’s software engineering. Still, he would have been better off keeping his mouth shut.

As would we all.

Next time you’re in a meeting, divert some of your attention to noticing who are the most effective participants. I did this once and noticed something disconcerting: It wasn’t me. I was too busy talking.

How about you? When a subject comes up you’re passionate about, what do you do? A lot of us act like Harry Potter’s friend Hermione, desperately waving her hand in the air hoping to be called on for the answer. Except that in business settings we don’t raise our hands waiting for the facilitator to call on us (I hope!) — we just grab the floor and talk until we run out of words or breath, or until others interrupt us with their own pithy commentary.

That’s what most of us do. What do the most effective participants do? Mostly, they wait.

Yes, I know you have a lot of knowledge about (for example) which DBMS is the best on the market. Yes, you’re doing everyone a disservice by not sharing that knowledge with the group. But it’s okay. Really.

The question you have to ask yourself is what your goal is. If it’s to share your knowledge, talking is a clear necessity. Repetition isn’t, but saying what you know once is a prerequisite to everyone else hearing it.

If your goal is more than that — if it’s to prove to everyone that you’re the smartest person in the room — talking early and often might be the right strategy. Probably not, but it might be.

But if you want everyone in the room to choose the course of action you think is best, hold your tongue. If necessary, pinch it between your thumb and forefinger and don’t let go for awhile.

There will come a time when the discussion starts to either wind down or repeat itself. That’s when it’s your turn. Here’s the formula: (1) Get the floor; (2) Summarize what’s been said; (3) Find a way to agree with ideas you don’t like that removes them from consideration; (4) Present a way out of the impasse. Like this:

“Can I say something? Thanks. Clearly, this is a complicated subject. Here’s what I think I’ve heard. Fred, you made the excellent point that Oracle, IBM, and Microsoft dominate the market. Just as a pulse-check — does everyone here agree with Jill that Microsoft’s software doesn’t scale to the enterprise as well? Yes? Me too.”

“Jim, I know you’d like us to explore open source alternatives. I have to say, I find the notion attractive myself, but listening to everyone here it’s pretty clear that using open source at the heart of our architecture is a bit too adventurous for this company. What I’d suggest is that we hold off, and look for an opportunity for a smaller scale proof-of-concept project for open source software and take it off the table here. Does that make sense to everyone? Jim, can you live with that?”

“Good. Then it looks like we have a toss-up between IBM and Oracle. We need some way to break the tie, and from everything I heard it won’t be their relative technical merits. If we expand our conversation to include which company we’d rather do business with, does that get us anywhere?”

Whether the subject is database management systems or what to have for lunch, people will follow your direction far more often if you keep your own counsel while waiting for most of the shouting to finish. Then, as a non-combatant, you can get everyone to the right answer.

Make sense? Good. I’m going to sign off now, and spend the next month working hard to take my own advice.