Why Does All Design Look the Same? A Socio-Cultural Rant
Taste & Travel4 Minutes Read

Why Does All Design Look the Same? A Socio-Cultural Rant

September 17, 2024

Is it a creative crisis or a stroke of capitalist genius? Here are all the reasons why all design looks the same these days.

You’ve seen it. I’ve seen it. We’ve all seen it. That eerie sensation of déjà vu when scrolling through social media or walking past a line-up of storefronts. Whether it’s a tech startup, a yoghurt brand, or even your local artisanal café, it seems as if everything has been given the same design treatment—the minimalist logos, sans-serif fonts, and muted pastel colours. Why does everything look the same? Let’s take a plunge into this monotonous sea of modern design sameness and see if we can figure out why we’re stuck in this aesthetic limbo.

Image courtesy of Dezeen

Globalisation: The Great Design Leveller

Globalisation, that well-known force that brings us closer together—usually by flattening anything with personality along the way. Once upon a time, companies took pride in creating logos and designs that reflected their specific culture or market. But now, in our global economy, businesses want to appeal to as many people as possible. So what happens? They go for the lowest common denominator. This is why we end up with so many designs that seem to be ticking off the same checklist: neutral colour palettes, clean lines, and logos that are so stripped back they could be considered nudists.

It makes sense, from an economic perspective. Brands want their products to sell in Tokyo, Timbuktu, and Tunbridge Wells. And so, they opt for something universally inoffensive. No need to get bogged down in specifics that might alienate someone, somewhere.

Image courtesy of COS

The Algorithmic Black Hole: Where Creativity Goes to Die

Then we have the digital age, and with it, the rise of social media algorithms. These algorithms are the silent dictators of modern taste. Instagram, TikTok, and Pinterest (yes, that place where all creativity seems to be “inspired” from) reward content that gains likes, shares, and engagement. But here’s the kicker: content that sticks to tried-and-tested formulas does best, because algorithms have the emotional range of a teaspoon. This forces designers to mimic what already works if they want their work to be seen, leading to a repetitive loop of creative regurgitation.

It’s almost as though the designers are saying, “Here’s a nice, clean sans-serif font that did well on Instagram last week—let’s just tweak the colour to a slightly different shade of beige.” Before you know it, everyone is tweaking the same design with marginal adjustments, and voilà! Another cookie-cutter brand identity is born​. In other words, social media is no longer just a place to share your creative output—it’s become a giant blender, churning out the same aesthetics over and over.

Minimalism: The Design Darling That Won’t Let Go

Now, let’s take a look at minimalism. A style once associated with cutting-edge design rebels who stripped away the excess in pursuit of purity and function. Unfortunately, minimalism has become the Little Black Dress of the design world: safe, unchallenging, and available in bulk at every fast-fashion store near you. What began as a noble design movement has now become the default. And not in a good way.

Minimalism, at its core, follows the mantra “less is more.” But in the hands of modern branding, it seems to have transformed into “less is bland.” Where’s the fun? The joy? The weirdness? One too many brands have taken this philosophy to heart, resulting in logos and websites that are so understated, they could be mistaken for a midweek nap. Worse still, this drive towards simplicity often masks a lack of originality. After all, how much creativity is needed to pick a neutral colour and slap on a sans-serif typeface​.

And yet, minimalism persists, partly because it suits the needs of our fast-paced, digitally dominated lives. Minimalist designs look good on your smartphone screen, where space is at a premium. The focus is on functionality—things must be legible at small sizes, scalable across platforms, and, well, forgettable in their safety. It’s efficient, but it’s also boring. A little like a beige diet.

Image courtesy of Insight Creative

Globalisation, Capitalism, and the Dulling of Design

Here’s where things get a bit philosophical. The late philosopher Robert Pirsig argued that when you strip things down to their most basic, functional elements, something vital is lost. The more you try to quantify beauty, the more you kill its soul. Pirsig’s point is hauntingly relevant to modern design, where the pursuit of profit and efficiency has smothered creative expression. The goal for brands is not to create something beautiful or unique, but something that sells—preferably everywhere, to everyone, as cheaply as possible.

Globalisation promised us a buffet of options and endless variety, but instead, it’s given us the design equivalent of a soggy sandwich: functional, filling, but utterly lacking in flavour. Why invest in something bold and culturally specific when you can have a bland, monochrome logo that’s guaranteed to not offend anyone?

Is the Homogenisation of Design the Death of Identity?

It’s not just brands that are losing their unique visual identities; as consumers, we’re starting to feel the effects too. The rise of “blanding” (that’s “branding” stripped of any personality) means we’re faced with an increasingly uniform visual culture. The same flat, geometric designs, the same neutral tones, the same sterile typography—if I see one more black-and-white logo, I might scream. And it’s not just logos—architecture, fashion, even the interior design of our homes is starting to suffer from this monotony​.

What’s more, as the designs we interact with daily become increasingly homogenised, we risk losing the ability to see ourselves reflected in the world around us. How can you feel a sense of connection to a brand or product when they all look the same? When designs no longer tell a story or reflect cultural values, but instead adhere to a bland, globalised norm, it feels as though something intrinsic has been lost. Where’s the personality? The quirkiness? The visual cues that make a product or space feel unique?

Where Do We Go from Here? Time to Break the Cycle

So, what’s the solution? How do we break free from this cycle of aesthetic sameness? Well, for starters, we could stop obsessing over algorithms and stop designing for mass appeal. Easier said than done, I know, but there are glimmers of hope. Some brands have begun to buck the trend, turning away from minimalism and embracing more eclectic, maximalist designs. The 2017 Chobani rebrand, for example, introduced a chunkier, retro serif font that felt warm and inviting—exactly the sort of design that cuts through the minimalist noise.

We could also reintroduce craftsmanship into design. Local artisanship, culturally specific designs, and non-digital mediums all have the potential to push back against the wave of visual sameness. If brands start to focus on telling real, authentic stories through design rather than adhering to globalised trends, we might see a resurgence of diversity in the visual world​.

Conclusion: The Future of Design (Or at Least, a Hopeful One)

In the end, the fact that all design looks the same is not just an aesthetic problem—it’s a reflection of broader socio-cultural and economic forces. Globalisation, capitalism, and social media algorithms all conspire to push design toward uniformity, stripping it of its creativity, cultural depth, and soul. But the future doesn’t have to be beige. If we can challenge the forces that drive homogenisation and embrace a more diverse, authentic approach to design, we might just rediscover the joy and weirdness that makes life, and design, truly interesting.

And if all else fails, maybe we could just bring back Comic Sans. At least it’s got character.

Author: Laura Scalco
snap
pin