In many neuroscience studies I conduct, I notice that the brain synchronizes better with a complex stimulus than a simple one. This means that the advice "simplify complexity" is not always valid. But how do you add complexity without overwhelming viewers? The examples below show one way to "complexify" while still preserving cognitive efficiency.
In one of my neuroscience studies, I wanted to see how buyers were reacting to a text-based email about the features of a software product vs. a brief demo about that product (also included in an email). What you’re seeing below is the aggregated heatmap from the group of buyers who saw the product demo inside the email. The heat maps enable us to detect where buyers are looking and for how long.
The product advertised was a software application that allows presenters to remove background noise when they hold virtual meetings and create a distraction-free environment (e.g., no dogs barking in the background).
Note from the heat maps how buyers’ attention gravitates toward the speaker’s face, especially the eyes and mouth. This was not surprising because the brain seeks out faces to interpret emotion, intent, and credibility. But then something subtle happens.
As the demo progresses, attention shifts, but not randomly, purposefully. Viewers follow the speaker’s gaze, then track...
Here is a heat map from a neuroscience study I conducted, where I wanted to see where buyers' attention is directed when they look at slides from a seller's presentation related to the merits of a software application. This slide is meant to communicate a clear message: "Modernize the Present, Simplify your Future." But attention is scattered. You see that more fixations are at the top-left corner, but that is likely impacted by reflexive left-to-right reading habits. The center image, with the server stack and Venn diagram, is visually dense and familiar but not necessarily meaningful. There are also fixations around the points around the platform that the seller was introducing, but this suggests that buyers are scanning, possibly hunting for relevance.
The slide offers plenty to look at (icons, labels, diagrams), but there is no dominant message that gets anchored. Viewers' eyes bounce, searching rather than landing and staying. In other words, this slide tries to say everything all ...
I love this image; we used it in a presentation on digital transformation a while back. At the time, we used it to create tension between the external appearance (human hand) and internal evolution (robotic machinery), symbolizing the distinction between superficial change and genuine digital transformation. Good content often lives in the tension between old and new, analog and digital, expected and surprising.
However, with the advent of AI, inspecting the visual again, the tension transforms into current anxiety: "Where do I end and the machine begin?" People still see human "hands" (marketing, branding, user interface), but underneath, organizations are increasingly run by algorithms, automation, and AI logic. So, the image might also help us ponder: "Are you just using digital tools or are you becoming something else because of them?"
Given that we created this image before the widespread adoption of AI, a guideline might emerge: sometimes, the future meaning of your work only ...
This heat map comes from a neuroscience study I conducted, where I was comparing how buyers process the same information in two formats: digital (viewing slides) and physical (holding a brochure). What you’re seeing here is the digital slide. At first glance, it appears to perform well, with bright colors and engaging icons that draw attention (therefore, the red-hot zones). But if you analyze further, you recognize that attention is scattered. There’s no dominant visual hierarchy.
And, despite all the stimulation, not a single participant remembered any detail from this slide. Not even the title. And titles are supposed to draw attention, but in this case, it got none.
So, what does this mean for you, even if you’re not a designer? First, don’t confuse visual activity with mental impact. Just because someone looks doesn’t mean they’ll remember. Second, always ask: what is the one clear point? What element carries your message?
For comparison, the physical brochure ...
When creating a presentation, it's tempting to think of it as a finished product—a sequence of static images combined with text locked in place. But the most effective presentations are not just static layouts; they're experiences that unfold. Here is an example from a presentation where we wanted to demonstrate the importance of creating an immersive experience in architecture/construction.
I am noticing that businesses often promise their customers personalized services as a means of differentiation. We offer “tailored solutions,” “customized experiences,” or we “focus on what matters most to you”…. they typically say. Yet, these promises are packaged in standardized presentations filled with generic stock photos. You must have seen slides like the one below many times: Images of generic meetings, people at laptops, or happy people looking at phones. Despite the claim of a “tailored approach,” the content feels like it could belong to any brand.
This conflict between the promise of personalization and templatized design creates cognitive friction for the viewer, who unconsciously senses a disconnect between the message of uniqueness and the impersonal images they’re seeing. Cognitive friction occurs when an audience encounters content that feels out of sync with the promised message. The brain, always searching for coherence, struggles to reconcile this gap, making the message less memorable and even eroding trust.
There are several ways to fix this, but here are three. Use images and compositions that help your audience envision:
The following slides are from a sales presentation we designed for a platform used in predictive and prescriptive analytics. Each slide exemplifies one of the guidelines above.
Visualizing experiences
Using this slide, the vendor visualizes a proposed journey and explains to his customers how they can oscillate between action and insight by using various software capabilities. The screenshots are from the real application; they are not stock photos.
Visualizing process
These segments are displayed gradually (note how some are numbered) to explain how the process of working with the vendor and the software will unfold. This step-by-step breakdown gives a concrete sense of how collaboration happens in real life.
Visualizing outcomes
This slide is presented multiple times to remind customers why this vendor’s solution is useful. Displaying expected results reinforces the value that a solution can bring.
Throughout these examples, notice the absence of overly staged smiles and generic stock photos—the kind that make presentations feel interchangeable, standard, and impersonal.
By anchoring your message in authentic experiences, clear processes, and real outcomes, you’re aligning your content with the brain’s natural drive for coherence. This approach reduces cognitive friction and reinforces the trust you’ve promised through personalization. The result? A presentation that feels unique, credible, and memorable—one that embodies the tailored experience you’ve promised.
In one of my neuroscience studies, I decided to compare the brain's response to a business video meant to intrigue buyers with an app versus... well, a video of tea brewing. As you can see below, nothing but tea leaves slowly steeping. I thought, 'This is going to be the ultimate snooze test.' But to my surprise, people weren’t bored! On the contrary, they enjoyed the moment and remembered it later. I suspect one of the reasons is because of a process called reflexive thinking.
Reflexive thinking is a kind of mental space where, when there isn’t much happening on screen, our brains start filling in the blanks. We reflect on our own thoughts, make connections, or dig into personal insights. This state doesn’t just hold attention—it encourages better memory and even creativity.
Of course, the surprising results might also be due to anticipation. Even with slow visuals, the brain stays alert, waiting for the unexpected. Maybe something surprising will emerge from the cup? This quiet anticipation keeps viewers engaged on a subtle level, almost as if they’re playing a mental game with the content.
The brain thrives on the unseen edges of a moment, where thought meets possibility.
So, how can you use this in your own content, even if you’re not a designer?
Sometimes, the mind finds depth not in speed but in the silent pull of what might come next.
