The signs and symbols that mark our beliefs and affiliations are slippery. The Christian cross, the Islamic star and crescent, the Jewish Star of David, and their copyrighted and heavily litigated corporate equivalents, the swoosh, apple, and target, may be resilient But now a dizzying mix of familiar and newly created graphics devices are competing for the graphics devices of our world. Decreased attention span.
These days, there is no movement without a message. Anarchy also has his brand identity, and its scratchy circled A logo has migrated from street lampposts to Converse's Chuck Taylor Anarchy Edition All-Star. From the pink hats of the Women's March to the red hats of the storming of the Capitol, from rainbows to thin blue lines, from salute emojis to watermelon emojis, we're navigating a thicket of improvised graphic devices.
Next is the case of the peace sign. Originally devised in the late 1950s by activist and designer Gerald Holtom as a symbol of Britain's anti-nuclear proliferation movement, the ubiquitous split circle symbol superimposes flag and hand signals representing the letters N and D for nuclear disarmament. It was born by this. It quickly became an open source logo for the global anti-war and counterculture movement.
From the beginning, Holtom insisted that his mark remain in the public domain forever. But without the protection of centuries of institutional tradition and threatening cease-and-desist letters, symbols are vulnerable to appropriation. No one owns the peace sign, so anyone can use it for anything. (Craigslist, I'm looking at you.) By the early 1970s, the once-hyped peace symbol had morphed into a boring lifestyle and fashion motif resembling a smiley face. .
A highly unscientific survey of my Gen Z students and colleagues suggests that after decades of relentless commodification, younger generations may have lost their clues. The typical associations I heard – “hippie”, “Venice Beach”, “someone who is very easy-going and somewhat isolated”, “coexist”, “lazy” – are more than radical revolutionaries. , sounded like a marketer's kombucha psychology.
“When you take one look at the peace sign, it feels so outdated and meaningless,” Gabby Uy, a 22-year-old college junior, told me. “I remember when I was in elementary school and everyone had this on their water bottles and T-shirts and the world seemed a lot simpler than it actually was.”
“I don't think it's progressive or anything,” agreed Ben Gartner, a 21-year-old college senior. “It's more of an outdated symbol of 'just getting along' and a neutral blanket statement against war and violence.”
“When I see this symbol, the first thing I always think of is some sort of capitalist trinket,” said Kari Flanagan, 19. It may sound cynical, but considering this is the generation that encountered this mark for the first time, the marketing connection is not at all surprising. Before she could even slip on an Urban Outfitters Peace Crochet Bucket Hat, Vans Old Skool Peace Paisley Slip-Ons, or sneakers, she was forced to wear a peace sign onesie and eat Annie's Organic Peace Pasta & Parmesan. It may have been. Tiffany platinum and diamond piece pendant.
After decades of selling fast fashion, some might be tempted to think the peace sign is impossibly degrading. But while some may dismiss it as an anachronism, others believe it retains some of its original poignancy.
“It's relevant to me,” said Elizabeth Olshanetsky, 23, also a senior. “Two parts of my identity are currently torn apart by the war: I am Jewish and have a lot of family in Israel, and the other is that my parents grew up in the Soviet Union and we are still in Ukraine and Russia. I have a family.'' Context still matters.
Shepard Fairey, the designer of the oft-imitated “Hope” poster for President Barack Obama's 2008 campaign, insists the peace sign still has some validity. Get ideas quickly and efficiently. With the peace sign, you can do that. ”
Mr. Fairley is not convinced that the young people he speaks with deny the power of symbols. “I think part of being a teenager is rejecting everything,” he said. “But that doesn't mean you're not actually attuned to the emotion it represents.”
Perhaps this self-conscious oscillation between taking a stand and distancing, simultaneously rejecting and conforming, is the essence of our current dilemma. We are signaling that we will say what we need to say but not be as naive as we actually say it.
Or perhaps the current state of peak branding, combined with algorithm-fueled tribalism, is propagating symbols meant to divide rather than unite. (Audience segmentation is the soul of marketing.) In an age where almost everything, from the color of your hat to the flag on your front porch to the emoji on your Instagram post, is a declaration of ideology, the universal peace sign is a very Looks optimistic.
Or what has unfolded since Richard Nixon touted “peace with honor” after secretly bombing Cambodia, from Vietnam, South Africa and Rwanda to the Balkans and Afghanistan, not to mention Columbine and Newtown. , perhaps in light of the bloody decades that spanned Iraq, Ukraine and Gaza. And Uvalde — it's now nearly impossible to employ symbols that speak innocently about something as difficult and complex as peace. Peace for one person may be surrender for another.
