150. 

“Even today, a critical threshold in human organisations fall somewhere around this magic number. Below this threshold, communities, business, social networks and military units can maintain themselves based mainly on intimate acquaintance and rumour-mongering. There is no need for formal ranks, titles and law books to keep order. A platoon of thirty soldiers or even a company of a hundred soldiers can function well on the basis of intimate relations, with a minimum of formal discipline. (...) But once the threshold of 150 individuals is crossed, things can no longer work that way. (...)

How did Homo Sapiens manage to cross this critical threshold, eventually founding cities comprising tens of thousands of inhabitants and empires ruling hundreds of millions? The secret was probably the appearance of fiction. Large numbers of strangers can cooperate successfully by believing in common myths.” (Yuval Harari)

These fictions take different forms throughout centuries and locations. Fashion is a good example: what’s elegant in one time and place may be edgy or unacceptable in another. Modern concepts of countries and nationalities are also fictions, suggesting that all people within imaginary territory lines should share the same values, rituals, mores, and beliefs. 

Stewart Brand named these different types of fictions and their relationships with each other "pace layering." He identified fashion, commerce, infrastructure, governance, culture, and nature as distinct layers that move at different paces but affect and inform one another. What’s cool on TikTok might be different week over week, but changes to hegemonic structures of government and dominant culture might take years to happen.

Social fictions can also expand beyond their original context: A cornerstone of globalization, for example, is the imposition of fictions from a few powerful people and countries to the diverse majority—controlling the fictions to control the narrative. When the United States imposes a global definition of Free World, or when an American cultural export like Friends becomes one of the most popular TV shows in the world, the United States is influencing different layers of other societies.

The result is the oppressive replacement of a wide spectrum of cultures and ways of life with a single set of fictions—a monoculture in which cultural layers are uniform and connected, and in which the demise of certain fictions can have seismic consequences across the globe.

Power both creates and depends upon the shared fictions of the monoculture. Power self-perpetuates through control of these fictions, which must be coded as legitimate and immediately recognizable through their symbolism, language, and design.

When you look at a U.S. one-dollar bill, you know exactly what it is and where it is accepted, and you have a rough idea of its value. 

The one dollar bill has the oldest design of all U.S. currency currently being produced. The obverse design of today’s dollar debuted in 1963 when it was first issued as a Federal Reserve Note. The reverse design debuted in 1935. Around 12.7 billion dollar bills are in circulation worldwide.

The design of the dollar bill is full of meaning. Each symbol builds on older symbols and social fictions. By design, many of the symbols on the dollar bill are familiar to the people who use it, who are bound by the social contract of U.S. currency.

[1] An image of George Washington, the first U.S. President, based on the Athenaeum Portrait by Gilbert Stuart (1796).

[2] The Federal Reserve District seal. The name of the Federal Reserve Bank that issued the note encircles a capital letter (A–L), identifying it among the twelve Federal Reserve Banks. The sequential number of the bank (1: A, 2: B, etc.) is also displayed in the four corners of the open space on the bill. 

[3] The Treasury Department seal. The scales represent justice. The chevron with thirteen stars represents the original thirteen colonies. The key below the chevron represents authority and trust; 1789 is the year the Department of the Treasury was established.

[4] The signatures of the Treasurer of the United States (left), and the Secretary of the Treasury (right), along with the series date.

The symbols of power and authority we see on the modern dollar might not have appeared on the first dollar bill, but many of its visual elements draw on centuries of design evolution. Coins, seals, certificates, and other official documents from various regimes and cultures have contributed to a collective visual lexicon of symbols that convey legitimacy and trustworthiness. 

The same visual lexicon shows up in designs created well after the dollar bill, like bank checks or credit cards: their design elements are often a mix of historical references and a reflection of the time they were invented. Over time, the aesthetic of the fiction evolves. It takes a new format with a slightly different meaning.

The aesthetics of our many fictions continue to evolve, every single day and at every step the world takes towards believing them more—or believing them less.

Fast forward to the 2020s and the way our society visually represents Artificial Intelligence has changed quite a lot. The concept itself isn’t as new to many people. Not because everyone has experienced or interacted with AI themselves in a memorable way, but because of how much the topic has come up in the news, movies, TV, and pop culture. Aesthetic choices now focus less on explaining AI and normalizing interacting with machines, and more on trying to make that technology look human, natural, or invisible. 

Movies like Her normalized the acceptance of ubiquitous computing and created their own aesthetic based on a romanticized relationship between humans and machines, making space for the establishment of a service like Google Home, that taps into the same idea presented in the film.

The process of questioning, antagonizing, and creating new fictions is natural, but the scale, speed, and intensity of social media radically changed how quickly this process takes place. 

Any action or misstep can be easily tracked and exposed. The powerful fiction of infallible beings and institutions is easily questioned by any side. In turn, this fuels alternative “facts” and extremist agendas, supported by exaggerated and decontextualized information.

As old fictions start losing their place, space opens for new fictions to emerge in parallel. New narratives, new truths, and new worlds are being created.

It might seem that we have no control over this chaotic, contradictory, and overwhelming process. But we must remember that within this transformational period, there is space for new, positive changes. As designers, we have a small but important part to play by shaping symbols and its structures.

02. Borrowing credibility from old money metaphors

Many of these new web3 services reference old metaphors to legitimate their currency system. In Economic theory, money has four main functions: to be a store of value, to be a unit of account, to be a medium of exchange, and to be a deferred payment. To convey all these functions, web3 services need to rely on the universal metaphor of the coin as a symbol of money. An interesting oxymoron if you think about it: they aim to build the future and disrupt the market but yet use established symbols as their foundation. A revolution that is unrecognizable is probably meaningless.

03. Neon colors that hint at a brighter future

Neon seems to be web3’s official color palette, bringing forward gradients that are vibrant and bold. This color palette choice works as a double statement: declares war on the unsaturated and monotone web of the past, and announces the boldness of what is to come.

04. 3D forms that deny the flatness of web2

To convey disruption and innovation, the ideas brought by web3 need to surpass the two-dimensionality of the web. The use of 3D creates a more tangible environment to compensate for some of the abstract concepts of web3, while enticing exploration for those who dare to wonder.

05. A futurist take on the 8-bit style

While web2 keeps trying to make technology feel more human, web3 tries to make technology more… technologic. The use of 8-bit typeface is an attempt to disrupt the neutral, sans-serif Big Tech style, while reminding us of the origins of computer displays.

06. Reign of abstract forms and anti-personalism

There is no place for illustration of humans with flat geometric style on this new web. Inspired by science fiction, web3 tries to shift the focus from “this is a product that fits your life” to pitching the idea of an exciting future. Instead of reminding us of the issues of our current world, abstract forms distance us from our reality and entice us to explore a new one.

While the web3 aesthetics is an emerging visual trend, it’s far from being a widespread reality beyond the design bubble. Much of it will evolve as these aesthetics make their way from niche cultures (sci-fi books, movies, video games) to mainstream businesses.

However, that doesn't mean the dystopian aesthetic of sci-fi movies is a guide to be followed. 

As designers, with every new project we tend to leverage existing symbols and reinforce their meaning to be able to benefit from mental associations people will naturally make. But we also have the power to modify and repurpose those symbols, should that be our intention. From redefining the role that gender plays in our society and our designs, to understanding the unintended consequences of our actions in the world—every decision we make can have an impact. 

Are we still replicating eurocentric models from 5 decades ago to define our future? What are some of the other futures we can design?