It’s happened to you before: you’re at a party, a book club, or a cheese tasting, and you find yourself chatting with a two-dimensional being. The conversation is flowing surprisingly well, considering one of you lacks depth—until, without thinking, you mention a hole.

It could be a cave, a pit, a crack—even a rip. It doesn’t matter. You’ve said it. The damage is done.

A hush falls over the conversation. The two-dimensional being quivers slightly, its edges vibrating with intrigue. Then comes the dreaded question:

“What is a hole?”

It’s important to be prepared. A clumsy answer could lead to confusion. Too much detail, and you risk sending your flat friend into an existential spiral. Fortunately, there are ways to handle this delicate situation.

Avoid a condescending tone

Not knowing what a hole is isn't the same as being unaware that sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins, or that, in theory, anything that fits on the floor of our house should also fit on the ceiling.

Be empathetic

Put yourself in your companion’s place. Imagine a four-dimensional being casually mentioning that they took a vacation in the 1870s or offhandedly revealing how you’re going to die in fifteen years. You wouldn’t appreciate it if a creature with superior perception explained time travel to you in a rushed and dismissive way.

Do not, under any circumstances, pivot to your weird theory

The one where you’re pretty sure that if you, a three-dimensional being, cast a two-dimensional shadow, then maybe you’re merely the shadow of a four-dimensional being. This is neither the time nor the place.

Whatever you do, don’t bring up trampolines

This is crucial. A trampoline is a direct assault on everything a two-dimensional being believes in. If you even hint at the existence of bouncing, you may as well tell them that sometimes you disappear into the sky and reappear moments later like some kind of cruel, capricious god.

Avoid demonstrations

Don’t draw a hole. Don’t tear one in a piece of paper. Don’t gesture toward your mouth and say, “like this.” You’ll confuse them, then terrify them, then inadvertently invent religion. And that’s too much responsibility for a cheese tasting. Because the moment your companion understands absence as presence, they’ll wander into a philosophical abyss and start asking what it means to be.

Try using analogies

  • A hole is something that doesn’t exist in a place where something should exist.
  • A hole is the silence of surfaces.
  • A hole is a vacation spot for matter.
  • A hole is that moment when you wave back at someone who wasn’t actually waving at you.

If none of this works, quietly step onto a chair, stool, or couch. You’ll vanish from your dimensionally impaired friend’s universe entirely, which, honestly, is for the best.