The empty chair: making room for the unseen in systems conversations
By: Charlie Ursell
My mentor, Gail Taylor, once shared a lesson that has stayed with me through every project and conversation.
“When a chair is empty, why not give it to those impacted by the conversation who do not have a voice?”
At first, I understood this through the lens of systems thinking. The empty chair could represent a person who was never invited, a community pushed to the margins, a partner who was not consulted, or someone too tired to keep showing up. It was a reminder to design conversations that honor more than the people in the room.
But Gail’s meaning went further.
She saw the empty chair as a place for anyone or anything affected by our choices. Not only people, but also an animal. A river. A forest. A watershed. A future generation. Even the planet itself.
In this way, the empty chair does not simply mark absence. It holds presence. It carries the stories, needs, and wisdom of the unseen.
Meeting a Tradition That Deepened the Lesson
When I moved to the place now known as Canada, I encountered a tradition within many Indigenous communities that deepened my understanding. It is the practice of leaving a chair for ancestors, those who came before and still guide us.
The empty chair in this tradition is not vacant. It is filled with memory, responsibility, and connection. It is a living reminder that we are in conversation not only with those here today, but also with those whose footsteps laid the ground beneath us.
This shifted my thinking again. I began to see systems not just as networks of people and institutions, but as relationships that stretch across time. We live and work in the present, yet every choice is shaped by the past and shaping the future.
From Systems to Time-Systems
In this light, the empty chair becomes a bridge across generations. It asks us to design our strategies, conversations, and decisions with both memory and foresight. It challenges us to act as if those who came before and those who are yet to come are seated with us now.
So what does it mean to truly make space for the unseen?
It means pausing before we decide and asking:
Who is missing from this room, yet impacted by our choice?
What non-human beings are part of this system, and how are we hearing them?
What wisdom from the past might guide us now?
What responsibility do we have to the future?
It means recognizing that a river has a stake. That the salmon has a story. That a child born fifty years from now may live with the consequences of what we choose today.
A Practical Design Principle
This is not just a poetic idea. It is a design principle.
In practice, it might mean setting an empty chair in your meeting room to represent those who are absent. It might mean starting your strategy session with an acknowledgment of the unseen. It might mean creating moments of reflection before a decision, inviting people to imagine how those not in the room might respond.
Sometimes the most ethical and far-reaching action we can take is to leave space, not as a gesture of loss but as an act of inclusion.
A Quiet Invitation
The next time you step into a boardroom, a community meeting, or a planning retreat, notice the empty chair.
Ask yourself:
Who might be sitting there?
How would you act differently if you truly listened?
Who is the empty chair in your next conversation? What would change if they had a seat at the table?
At TidalCo:, we co-create collaborative processes to help organizations and communities navigate complex challenges. If you’re ready to turn collective intelligence into lasting impact, connect with us.
