As minimalism becomes a global design language, are we sacrificing individuality, imagination, and the pursuit of beauty?
I increasingly come across social media posts discussing how beauty - and the pursuit of it - is being lost over time. Headlines like “When did we stop making things beautiful,” “The lost language of beauty,” and “When did the world lose its magic?” constantly cross my path, and I have begun to wonder if we truly realize what we are losing.
We have lost the authenticity of things, the variety of design, and the pursuit of that “venustas” that has accompanied us since our very first steps into the world of architecture. We have embraced one single concept: “LESS IS MORE”!
Coined by the German-American architect Ludwig Mies van der Rohe, the concept of “LESS IS MORE” - so beloved and celebrated by creatives across all fields - seems to have taken an unexpected turn today. Born as a design principle that sought essentiality, balance, and rigor, minimalism represented one of the most significant revolutions in design culture. The reduction to the essentials, the rejection of the superfluous, the clarity of forms, and the purity of materials have all helped shape a fundamental part of the modern design language.
The “LESS IS MORE” ethos is becoming so pervasive that it is actually curtailing the creative scope of designers themselves. We design less, choose less, and decorate less.
Yet, paradoxically, we end up seeing the same things over and over again.
The same colors. The same materials. The same furnishings. The same shapes. The same atmospheres.
We walk into an interior and instantly recognize the visual language: neutral walls, natural wood, seamless surfaces, a minimalist selection of objects, soft forms, and understated lighting.
Everything is correct. Everything is orderly. Everything is contemporary.
But where is the distinction? Have we perhaps become homogenized?
I firmly believe so. And I say, sadly, yes.
Our creativity - the very quality that for centuries allowed architecture and design to transcend mere technical problem-solving - seems to have gradually faded away.
One of the first examples of this “flattening” can be found in our cities.
In the past, homes and buildings were distinguished by their colors, materials, and details.
Decorated facades. Windows with moldings. Distinctive roofs. Carved wooden doorways. Elaborate railings. Cornices, friezes, balconies, and details all spoke of a specific place and culture.
These were the elements that gave a city character and bestowed upon it an identity.
A building could be recognized by its facade, a specific color, or a particular decorative feature.
Today, however, as we move through many contemporary cities, we encounter a succession of glass facades, smooth surfaces, and volumes that seem to come from the same global catalog.
Mirrored skyscrapers. Glass, steel, concrete.
And a color palette often reduced to endless, dreary shades of gray.
This is not to imply that ornamentation is automatically synonymous with quality, nor that simplicity equates to banality.
My point is simply that buildings, interiors, and objects now often bear a striking resemblance to one another.

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