DESIGN
What a Blue Apple Can Tell You About Design
If you ever visit Japan, don’t get excited if someone offers you a “blue apple” — it’s probably a boring old green one. This is because you, as an English speaker, distinguish blue and green as different colours — which is not the case for Japanese speakers, who call both colours “ao”. Therefore an “ao-ringo” (blue apple) is green.
This is not a new linguistic phenomenon. Apparently the Ancient Greeks didn’t have a word for blue. Homer referred to the “wine-dark” sea (he also talks about violet sheep and green honey).
The fact is, different languages divide up colours in different ways. In Ancient Greek, “glaukos” covered dull shades from light blue to olive green, while “kyaneos” referred to grey-blue ranging towards black.
Language influences colour perception
Most languages have at least five different colour terms: dark, light, red, yellow, blue/green.
The Japanese language doesn’t distinguish strongly between blue and green, so Japanese speakers find it more difficult to visually distinguish between these two colours. The three colours shown below are ai, midori and sō, which are all classed as “ao”.
Fun fact: Due to this lack of distinction between green and blue, the Japanese government has mandated that traffic lights should be a particularly bluish shade of green. Blue enough to be perceived as ao by Japanese people, but green enough to avoid confusing travellers from other countries.
The Greek language, on the other hand, divides blue into light blue (ghalazio) and dark blue (ble), as do several other languages including South American Spanish (celeste and azul) and Turkish (mavi and lacivert). Speakers of these languages therefore tend to see these as two different colours (although those who also speak English, which has only one word for blue, see them as being more similar).
A 2007 study at Stanford University focused specifically on the Russian language, which divides blue into light blue (goluboy) and dark blue (siniy). They found that Russian speakers were faster at distinguishing between light and dark blue hues when the colours fell into different linguistic categories in Russian. This advantage disappeared when participants were given a verbal task that interfered with their mental processing of colour-related words, suggesting that language plays a direct role in colour discrimination.
Language influences everything
The phenomenon of language influencing perception and cognition extends beyond colours. For example, different languages conceptualise time differently — English speakers think of past as being behind and future as being in front, whereas the Aymara people of South America consider the past to be in front (where you can see it) while the future (which cannot be seen) is behind.
Directions similarly differ between languages — some Australian Aboriginal languages use cardinal directions (north, south, east, west) rather than relative directions (left, right). Several other languages share this cardinal mode of thinking (e.g. Tzetzal language in Mexico, Maori language in New Zealand, Berti language in Chad and Coco language in the Solomon Islands).
Gendered terminology has also been used to illustrate how language affects perception — for example there has been some discussion about whether words like “fireman” and “policeman” convey that these roles are only suitable for men.
Language determines thinking
The fact is, if we don’t have a word for something we struggle to differentiate it. This is called the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis, also known as linguistic relativity, and the theory was pioneered in the 1920s by anthropologist Edward Sapir and his student Benjamin Lee Whorf. Essentially the Sapir-Whorf hypothesis states that the structure and vocabulary of a language can shape or influence the way its speakers perceive and think about the world.
George Orwell utilised this idea in his novel Ninteen-Eighty-Four, where he imagined a language called “Newspeak” which had limited vocabulary in order to prevent people being able to articulate and communicate certain concepts.
The idea of linguistic relativity somewhat fell out of fashion in the mid-twentieth century, but has recently made a bit of a comeback. Recent studies in cognitive science and linguistics have provided compelling evidence that language does, to some extent, shape perception and thought. Linguistic relativity has also resurfaced in discussions about artificial intelligence, with researchers exploring whether the words we use influence biases, cognitive framing and decision-making.
Applying this knowledge to design
This is vitally important in terms of design because people have different linguistic and cultural perspectives, and they will therefore interpret words and symbols differently. Geert Hofstede’s work provides a good starting point for understanding cultural dimensions, which then feeds into an understanding of their effect on design.
For example, colour choice in design isn’t universal. Red, often associated with danger or passion in Western cultures, symbolises good fortune and happiness in Chinese culture. Symbols that seem intuitive to one group might be baffling or even offensive to another. The thumbs-up gesture, commonly understood as approval in many Western countries, can be seen as disrespectful in some Middle Eastern cultures.
Typography also requires an understanding of cultural considerations. Consider how scripts differ: Arabic and Hebrew are read from right to left, which affects layout decisions, while Chinese and Japanese characters often take up less space than English words. A design that looks sleek and balanced in one language might appear cramped or sparse in another.
Furthermore, the words you choose in your design can carry unintended connotations. For instance, a literal translation of a slogan might not capture the intended nuance. Famously, when Pepsi’s 1963 slogan “Come alive with the Pepsi Generation” was translated into Chinese, the literal translation supposedly came out as “Pepsi brings your ancestors back from the grave”. This is why localisation, rather than simple translation, is often essential when adapting designs for different markets.
Accessibility also plays a critical role in understanding linguistic and cultural perspectives, particularly when it comes to inclusivity and the recognition of diverse needs and experiences. Language, in its many forms, can either bridge or widen gaps in accessibility, depending on how it’s used.
In Summary
Design is never universal, no matter how much we think it is or would like it to be. The way people interpret colours, words and symbols is inescapably shaped by their language and culture, and these factors also affects a whole host of other issues that haven’t even been touched upon here. The result is that a product or service that works well in one cultural context may not be effective, or even appropriate, in another.
The key thing is to avoid making assumptions based on a one-size-fits-all mentality. Designers may unknowingly impose their own cultural assumptions onto products, which can create barriers for users from different cultural backgrounds. It’s not just about language translation, but also about adapting to diverse cognitive and behavioural patterns, such as how people approach decision making, hierarchy and teamwork.
In order to succeed in this context, designers must go beyond simply “adapting” their designs to other markets and instead embrace cultural diversity as a key factor in the design process. The goal should be to create systems that are universally usable but also culturally relevant.
However, universality isn’t a totally lost cause. Certain aspects of design tap into fundamental principles of human psychology, and usability and ergonomics are generally valued worldwide. The key is striking a balance between universal principles and cultural nuances, tailoring designs to respect local contexts while maintaining core values of usability, clarity and human connection.
