Japanese design is more than minimalism
If you prefer a more visual experience, I’ve also made a video about this topic!
A homogenous country full of contrasts
The challenge I face most often as a presentation designer is trying to cram a lot of our client’s information into as few slides as possible (as per their request), while also trying to lay it out in an aesthetically pleasing way.
“It seems to be an impossible feat,” I think to myself, as I play Tetris with the textboxes. But I’ve noticed that it’s something that Japan excels at. Just take a look at their menus, magazines, brochures or even their streets.
Yet, when I Google “Japanese design”, all I get are articles about minimalism, paired with photos of symmetrical rock gardens, neutral-toned teacups and wooden interiors you’d imagine Marie Kondo living in.
For a country that’s known for both MUJI and Don Don Donki, zen gardens and chaotic commercials, why is Japanese design synonymous with this one approach?
A very brief history of minimalism in Japan
Minimalism existed in Japanese culture for thousands of years, originating from Zen Buddism. Japanese people did live relatively simply. But after World War 2, the country was desperate to rebuild its economy and so they opened their doors to the international world.
In the 50s, Japan set aside their minimalistic values in favour of capitalism and Western influence, which helped get the country moving again. This catapulted them into becoming one of the richest countries in the world. In the 70s, they’ve managed to snatch the title of the second-largest consumer market.
However, by the 80s, this rampant consumerism was making people in Japan borderline depressed. Studies have found that placing lots of value on wealth, status and material possessions is more likely to make you unhappy and anti-social.
This led to the birth of MUJI, designed for customers who became tired of chasing after expensive, branded goods. People were realising they were buying too much stuff and emptying their bank accounts just to clutter their homes.
Maybe that’s why Japan decided to return to their old Zen principles, and minimalism became a massive trend again the last decade — and especially today during the pandemic, where people realised what’s actually important to them and what’s essential in their lives.
Other than their deep-rooted history, there are also several practical reasons why Japanese people would live a minimalistic lifestyle today. Japanese cities have extremely small living spaces, meaning that they can’t hoard too many possessions. Japan is also incredibly vulnerable to natural disasters, experiencing the most earthquakes in the world. A majority of injuries from earthquakes come from falling objects, so it’s safer to own fewer things.
Japanese designs predict and serve their people’s needs
If Japanese design doesn’t look like it’s all made by MUJI, what does it look like?
Well, Japan is famous for its 5-star customer service, even in the most mundane places, and its thoughtful products that are designed to predict and fit customers’ needs. So if we look at what the local people need, maybe we can see how it influenced their designs.
Give them a lot of reassurance
Firstly, we all know that Japan is a very risk-averse country and because of that, they need a lot of reassurance. There’s an expectation that everything would be explained upfront so that customers know exactly what they’re getting.
This might have manifested in their cluttered ads, product packaging and websites where companies write down all the features and technical specifications. Not only do these descriptions help the brand seem more credible, but it also allows customers to do their own research before making a purchase decision.
Another example of a product that caters to their risk aversion is plastic food models. Not only does it make your mouth water and attracts you to the restaurant, but you’d also know exactly what you’re ordering, so you can order food at ease. You’d also be able to discover new dishes with more confidence, rather than just blinding pointing to a menu item you haven’t tried before.
Give them value for money
Second, Japanese designs are packed with unexpected features that you could ever dream of. For example, my rice cooker doesn’t just make rice but you can also cook meat in it or bake cakes. Japanese toilets have a bajillion of ways to clean, massage and dry your crack, to satisfy those who like the gentleness of an angle’s touch or prefer having it a bit more rough.
To Japanese consumers, having more features can mean that the product is more value for money.
Maybe that’s why the iPhones took so many years to take over Japan. At first, they might have thought that there aren’t as many functionalities compared to a flip phone, because there aren’t many buttons. But once people figured out there are limitless apps on the app store, the iPhone became their most popular model.
Minimalism is marketable
So while it’s true that minimalism has its place, the stereotype that Japan only being a “less-is-more” country can be misleading. Surely if everyone in Japan are minimalists, Marie Kondo wouldn’t have become popular and famous in Japan for helping people declutter. Like us, minimalism is an ideal for them, rather than what’s already common.
I got inspired to start my research on Japanese design after I stumbled across this podcast called Design Huddle when they brought up the question of whether Japan specifically created this persona to project to the world because that’s what they want to be perceived as.
In the last decade, we had were mesmerised by “Cool Japan” — Japan’s soft power, which gave us street fashion, never-ending stories and broken TVs.
But minimalism is becoming one of Japan’s most popular cultural exports, and they’re selling you a fantasy. Silvia Killingsworth writes in her article “The Commercial Zen of Muji”:
The Muji aesthetic, or near lack of one, embraces simplicity and utility. Along with the KonMari tidying craze, it’s fast becoming one of Japan’s most popular cultural exports. A decade ago, we had cool Japan, all Hello Kitty and Pokémon and street fashion. Muji, with its lack of logos, represents post-cool, normcore Japan, which is, of course, a fetishized version of Japanese culture — serene and neat and proper.
A great example of this drastic difference between Marie Kondo’s international Youtube channel versus her Japanese channel. The thumbnails we see are often how Japan is depicted today — muted tones and serene; whereas the thumbnails in Japan are vibrant, personal and cheery, something that looks a lot more clickbaity.
As a designer, it’s tempting to reference the minimalistic designs Japan is known for. But if we only focus on that, you might miss out on learning from the maximalistic approach that’s super practical and engaging.
If we take the time to appreciate the more mundane things, we’ll be able to see that there’s a method to this madness.
There are so many aspects about Japanese design I want to cover, but this is only an intro to an entire series where I explore the overwhelming and everyday side of Japanese design that I feel is under-appreciated.
In the future, I plan to look into websites and why they look like they haven’t changed since the early 2000s; understand why TV shows look so seizure-inducing; and explore how kawaii designs are used to manipulate human behaviour.
Let me know if there’s something you think I should look into!
References
More Than Minimalism | Japanese Design: What You Missed
Getting to Noh: Myths of Japanese Minimalism
“How Japan Made Me a Minimalist”
The Japanese Minimalist Lifestyle with TOOTHPIC NATIONS
