In the latest wave of attempts to scrub history clean in favor of something shiny and new, the city of Austin has decided to rebrand itself. After using the same city seal for over a century, officials have unveiled a new logo that seems to have taken the idea of being “unique” and thrown it in the trash, opting instead for something that looks like it was generated by a robot with no artistic sense whatsoever. This bland and utterly forgettable design reportedly cost over a million dollars—yes, a million dollars for a generic squiggly “A” that might as well be the logo for a nondescript bank or a self-help seminar.
The former city seal, designed back in 1916, was a nod to Austin’s rich cultural history. It was a regal and stately symbol worthy of the vibrant city it represented. It evoked a sense of pride and history, something you might see flying proudly over a medieval fortress. But alas, in today’s fast-paced, modern world, who needs history, right? That’s old hat, best left in the attic with the family photo albums and priceless heirlooms.
Jessica King, the city’s chief communications director, has proudly stated that the new logo is part of an effort to modernize the city’s image and make everything uniform. Because apparently, being indistinguishable from a pack of store-brand pain relievers is the aim here. The old logo, with its roots deep in the city’s heritage, is deemed unfit as it doesn’t reflect the city’s “distinctive values and mission.” Make no mistake, folks: tossing away a symbol with genuine depth for something utterly devoid of meaning is the new standard of progress.
Public reaction to this rebranding has been, unsurprisingly, filled with criticism. People aren’t happy about seeing a beloved emblem stripped away and replaced with something that might just as well be the symbol for a financial institution. And really, who can blame them? It doesn’t take an art degree to see that the new design lacks any soul or character. One might imagine this logo on the packaging of a generic over-the-counter medication rather than representing a dynamic and historical city like Austin.
The broader cultural trend of “modernizing” for the sake of it reeks of trendiness over substance. In an era where the past is often viewed as undesirable, many appear more than eager to rip out any roots connecting us to tradition. We’re not just talking about logos here—it’s a pattern that extends even to our films, our narratives, and our institutions. This mad dash towards so-called modernity constantly strips away the beauty, nostalgia, and meaningful connections in exchange for soulless simplicity. Perhaps it’s time to rethink whether being “modern” is worth the cost of losing our cultural identities.
