The Illusion of Subjectivity in Design

We often hear phrases like “to each his own” and “beauty is in the eye of the beholder.” These ideas, though democratic in tone, have contributed to a widespread crisis of visual literacy. They suggest that taste is purely personal, that beauty is arbitrary, and that there is no objective standard for what makes something well-designed. But the reality is that good design follows principles—proportion, balance, harmony, material integrity—that have remained consistent across cultures and time.

North America has largely lost the ability to recognize and articulate these principles, leaving us visually illiterate in our own built environment. Instead of training our eyes and developing an intuitive understanding of beauty, we have been conditioned to accept what is marketed to us.

Why We Don’t Understand What We See

When we encounter something we like, be it a building, an object, or a piece of art, we often lack the ability to explain why. This isn’t because beauty is inherently mysterious—it’s because we’ve never been taught to see. Historically, societies placed great importance on artistic training, pattern recognition, and an appreciation for form. Today, however, we are immersed in a culture of visual noise, where marketing and pop culture dictate our preferences before we have a chance to develop them for ourselves.

Rather than cultivating an organic understanding of what makes something beautiful, we are conditioned to assess aesthetics in an empirical, intellectual way. We approach design with the logic of data analysis rather than through feeling, instinct, and intuition. The result is a population that has lost its ability to trust its own eye.

Objective Standards: The Tools of Visual Literacy

While beauty is often framed as subjective, the principles that govern it are not. Mastering the colour wheel and colour theory enables us to see how hues interact harmoniously or discordantly, providing a structured approach to understanding palettes and contrasts. Similarly, sacred geometry—the use of mathematical ratios like the Golden Ratio—has been embedded in great architecture and design for centuries because it resonates deeply with human perception.

Likewise, understanding materials is a vital aspect of visual literacy. A trained eye can distinguish between a cheaply woven fabric and a fine textile simply by observing the interplay of weft, texture, and sheen. The way natural light interacts with a woven structure, the weight of a drape, or the crispness of a linen sheet all contribute to its quality—yet without knowledge, these distinctions go unnoticed. True visual literacy means engaging with these objective elements to develop a refined sense of discernment.

Marketing vs. Genuine Aesthetic Sensibility

Marketing has filled the gap where cultural education should be. Corporations dictate trends, telling us what is fashionable, desirable, and worthy of admiration. We are given a cycle of ever-changing styles, disconnected from historical and artistic continuity, ensuring that our tastes remain shallow and malleable. Pop culture bombards us with hyper-stylized imagery, favoring novelty over substance, so that the average person no longer knows how to distinguish between what is timeless and what is ephemeral.

Without visual literacy, we become passive consumers, incapable of identifying quality for ourselves. We accept incoherent architectural styles, disposable decor, and cheap materials, not because we prefer them, but because we have not been equipped to recognize alternatives.

The Need to Relearn How to See

Developing visual literacy is not about imposing rigid standards but about recovering the ability to perceive design in an intuitive and meaningful way. It means learning to see beyond surface-level trends and training ourselves to recognize the objective truths that underpin beauty.

This is not a skill reserved for artists and architects—it is a fundamental part of being human. Just as we develop literacy in language and numeracy in mathematics, we must cultivate literacy in aesthetics. We must restore our ability to assess our surroundings not through external validation but through our own well-trained perception.

True appreciation of beauty is not about intellectualization or trend-following. It is about feeling—a deep, instinctive recognition of harmony, proportion, material authenticity, and craftsmanship. If North America is to reclaim a sense of good taste, we must start by relearning how to see.