The Decolonization of Design
The Hooper Gallery
Dear Leading Ladies,
When our kids were in grade school, some of their schoolmates wrote to a crayon manufacturer to protest the name of their “Flesh” crayon. They insisted it surely wasn’t the color of the skin of the Black children in their classroom, nor of any but the blondest and fairest of them all. The company responded and changed the name. Truth be told, the children’s letters were probably joined by hundreds, if not thousands, of others from around the country.
At the time, none of us had heard the term decolonization of design, yet those young children had taken a successful stab at a problem now getting some wide press.
The decolonization of design is a mouthful, by any measure. For many, it may prove easy to ignore and toss into the pile of “navel gazing over- sensitivity,” or “just going too far.” What we don’t understand, what takes effort to comprehend, what conflicts with what has been our common view of reality, is so easy to dismiss.
But keep reading. This is worth unraveling.
What exactly is the decolonization of design?
Definitions of decolonization of design may differ, but all agree that what is necessary is a change in our way of thinking.
“Decolonizing design starts with recognizing that design isn’t a neutral discipline,” writes Chris Rattan in New Toronto. “Contemporary design’s origins are in modernism, a European movement that sought to obliterate historical and cultural traditions in its search for something new.” Decolonization, then, aims to bring back the wealth of Indigenous knowledge and artistry that has been dismissed and undervalued as the Western canon has been glorified.
The distinction between diversity and decolonization is important, according to graphic designer, educator and writer Anoushka Khandwala. The first is about bringing more voices to the table; the second is about changing the way we think. She explains that while colonization involved “the seizure of native resources,” it also created “the embedding of Western ideology into society.” In other words, the old adage about the victors writing history extends to the victors determining what we value in the arts and design – and what then, in turn, affects science and technology.
Khandwala explains how history perpetuates discrimination. “The work designers make is inspired by taste, and taste is often derived from what we’re exposed to during our upbringing,” she writes. There is an “accepted pantheon of work by predominantly European and American male designers that sets the basis for what is deemed ‘good’ or ‘bad’. The authority of the canon has undermined the work produced by non-Western cultures and those from poorer backgrounds so that Ghanaian textiles, for example, get cast as craft rather than design.” She argues that we should eliminate any distinction between craft and design, a distinction that only serves to designate work from some cultures as inferior.
Research done by designer Simba Ncube at London’s Central Saint Martins explains the effect of colonialism on ideas of perception, according to Khandwala. The Western bias that linear perspective is the best way to approximate space contrasts with the Japanese, who use only one plane for their perspective, and the Zulus, who design without using perspective at all, living in round huts and plowing land in curved furrows. The West has a difficult time acknowledging the Zulus’ innovative solutions to private and communal space, according to Ncube.
Decolonizing design is challenging the status quo, says Ellen Glover, writing in Built In. She quotes Clara Balaguer of the Filipino publishing imprint Hardworking Goodlooking, who advises, for example, using fonts spurned by the existing design power structure. “Challenge yourself to dismantle what the (Ivy League?) man has told you is ugly, uncouth, primitive, savage.” The important issue, Glover contends, is to consider “how people of different ethnicities may identify with what you’re creating.”
Glover offers an example of a design misstep that might easily elude the casual observer. “The tea packaging design for the UK’s East India Company, which uses patterns found on traditional Indian fabric, is one example of careless design appropriation. The East India Trading Company has historically played a huge role in exploiting India’s resources, so for a company to continue to appropriate the culture of a nation that it historically stole from is irresponsible.” This brings to mind the way Indigenous people are portrayed – or excluded – from the visual story of our country’s narrative, whether in textbooks, advertising, public art, or even toys.
Decolonization in different design fields
Graphic design, of course, is a major area for decolonization work. “Design history, theory, and practice, from what I can tell in North America and in Europe, is just very monolithically white. Let’s just be honest,” designer Ramon Tejada was quoted as saying in Creative Review. “The field has parked its narrative in a very specific geographical place, which is very Northern European, and that creates a problem when most of the world is not Northern European.”
He points out that the design history that is most referenced is that of the last hundred years, whereas there are centuries of design history from all over the world. “For me,” said Tejada, “it is about opening up spaces for all those narratives, stories, ideas, theories, and concepts that we’re not giving space to. It is also about having an awareness that a lot of things have been stolen, including land, histories, people and labor, and realizing the value people have gotten from that.” As the author of the Creative Review article, Rebecca Fulleylove concluded, “Decolonizing Design aims to …help people to shift their perspective, open up design and make room for other narratives.”
Looking at some other fields, in landscape architecture, there is a call to learn about the history of the land, the people who inhabited the area, and the original plantings, as well as to engage voices from diverse peoples to plan what is done in an area. Kees Lokman, assistant professor of landscape architecture at the University of British Columbia, believes that “Decolonization is a complex and multifaceted process that involves examining and denouncing colonialism; recovering and adopting Indigenous knowledge, language and practices; and undertaking scholarly projects that address the needs of Indigenous communities.”
For Nigerian American Victor Odoewea, CEO and Founder of Justice by Design, one aspect of the decolonization of design relates to how buildings, programs, and services are conceived. When the process and planning include the people served rather than only the people in power, he calls it Radical Participatory Development (RPD), a significant change from the historical method of operation.
In the fashion industry, Indigenous designers are highlighting work inspired by their heritage while explaining the difference between respectful inspiration and cultural appropriation, as a means of decolonizing design. Watch a video here.
Education and what we all can do
Clearly, education can wield extensive influence on the decolonization of design. When curricula include the work and sensibilities of non-white and non-Western people, and when students come from all parts of the world, the designs those people produce will reflect broader perspectives and ideas.
We may have made some progress since Kodak in the 1970s calibrated its film to favor white skin tones, but the latest face recognition software is up to 100 times more likely to misidentify people of color, according to Glover, leading to wrongful arrests and deportation. Clearly, there is a long way to go in removing discrimination from design in technology.
The subject of the decolonization of design is broad and exhaustive. What we, who are not in the field, can do is become more knowledgeable, aware, and alert to the issues. We can spread the word so that the concept gains legs in the common nomenclature. To read more, look at Elizabeth Dori Tunstall’s “Decolonizing Design: A Cultural Justice Guidebook.” Just published by MIT Press, it looks at institutional transformation of design theory and practice by restoring the long-excluded cultures of Indigenous, Black, and People of Color communities.
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