The buildings we admire
The Parthenon in Athens, the Notre Dame in Paris and the Charles Bridge in Prague - what do they have in common? They are all buildings we admire and travel to see and take pictures; but also, were made in a totally different time.
For centuries, architecture was about more than just utility. It was about beauty. Beauty was seen as a virtue, something to strive for—whether in the grand temples of Ancient Greece, the towering cathedrals of medieval Europe, or the intricate bridges that connected cities. These structures weren’t just places to live, work, or pray. They were statements. They reflected the values, ambitions, and even the power of the cultures and rulers who commissioned them.
Building for a reason
Today, our approach to architecture has changed dramatically. We no longer build just for beauty—we build for a purpose. Modern buildings are shaped by function first and foremost. Efficiency, cost, and utility drive the design process. After all, a building must serve the people who use it, whether it’s a home, an office, or a shopping mall.
This shift in priorities isn’t accidental. The world changed, and so did our needs. After World War II, cities faced an urgent housing crisis. Millions of people needed homes, and they needed them fast. Governments and architects responded with mass-produced housing blocks—efficient, affordable, and practical. Around the same time, car ownership exploded, reshaping cities to accommodate highways and parking lots rather than pedestrians.
But in this pursuit of efficiency, something got lost. Many of the cities we built in the post-war era weren’t designed for humans. They were designed for economies of scale, for cars, for productivity. The result? Endless rows of identical apartment buildings, soulless corporate districts, and vast suburban sprawls where walking is nearly impossible.
These trends didn’t just shape post-war cities—they continue to define urban development today. The rise of globalized architecture means that new buildings in London, New York, or Shanghai often look eerily similar. Glass skyscrapers, minimalist apartment blocks, generic office spaces—efficient, yes, but uninspiring.
This uniformity is both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it keeps costs down due to economies of scale relying on a supply chain that provides the same parts all over the globe. On the other hand, it strips cities of their uniqueness. Walk through any newly developed neighborhood, and you might struggle to remember which city you're in. The charm, the history, the cultural identity—all flattened by the demands of modern construction.
Lessons for designers
So what can we learn from this? That people don’t just need function—they need form, too. We crave beauty, uniqueness, and a sense of place, whether in architecture, products, or even digital experiences.
This lesson goes beyond buildings. Think about the apps we use, the websites we visit, or the presentations we create. Good design balances utility with aesthetics. A perfectly functional app that looks dull and uninspired will struggle to engage users. A technically flawless presentation without an engaging story will fail to capture attention.
Whether we’re designing homes, cities, or user interfaces, we should remember that humans don’t just live in spaces—they experience them. And experience is shaped not just by efficiency, but by emotion, aesthetics, and meaning.
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