Design is an incredibly potent tool for propaganda, often subtly influencing our thoughts and perceptions without our conscious awareness. Take, for example, the humble coin. The wheat ears symbolising prosperity and Lincoln’s face immortalised on currency are not mere design choices; they are deliberate indicators of state power and authority. Every time we handle change, we are subconsciously reminded of the government’s omnipresence.
Propaganda is the spread of ideas to influence public opinion, often supporting a specific political group or cause. Unlike regular marketing, which aims to influence what you buy, propaganda influences what you think. Its most effective forms are often subtle and embedded in everyday objects and designs around us.
Consider ancient handwritten documents. Emperors used scribes not just for recordkeeping but as a crucial part of their power. Different handwriting styles marked different kingdoms or functions, and the elaborate detail in these scripts was a strategic choice to prevent imitation. This is an early example of design as a tool of government authority, or more bluntly, government branding and propaganda.
Modern financial and legal documents still carry this legacy. They are designed to look trustworthy with consistent, legible typography that screams official. This design strategy serves an important yet chilling function: it normalises processes of oppression, making the unthinkable a routine administrative task. For instance, the unjust incarceration documents of Haa Benan, a Polish Jewish woman during the Holocaust, were designed to look ordinary, masking their vicious intent and making mass imprisonment seem as mundane as filling out a shopping list.
The constructivist movement in post-World War I Russia aimed to create social change through art and design, representing a fair and just socialist utopia. However, once Stalin came to power, this abstract work was deemed fanciful and decadent. The state demanded a heroic realism to depict their version of reality, using art to create a unified, conforming narrative that conveyed public support of the government.
In contrast, the United States used design and art more covertly in propaganda. Edward Bernays, the father of modern propaganda, believed in harnessing humans’ base instincts and redirecting them towards consumerism. His method, the engineering of consent, focused on creating inner desires within people through advertisements and propaganda. This strategy was embraced by President Hoover and became central to American life, keeping society stable and aligned with the government’s broader agenda.
Mid-century modern design, with its focus on making good design accessible to everyone, inadvertently served Bernays’ vision of consumerism. These affordable, mass-appeal designs enabled a continuous cycle of buying and throwing away, supporting the strategy of planned obsolescence. Products became a way of life, a way of being, rather than creating an identity through character-building.
Even the American Department of State funded exhibits at the Museum of Modern Art, using design as a diplomatic propaganda tool to showcase the American vision of consumerism. This extended to modern art, with the US government indirectly funding abstract expressionist artists like Jackson Pollock to advance their political agenda.
The AR-15 rifle is another example of design as propaganda. Its jagged lines and dark materials scream power and intimidation, making it a symbol of independence and second amendment rights for some, and a tool of unnecessary force for others. Its design and marketing capitalised on its visual similarity to military weapons, making it a political symbol and a best-seller.
Propaganda often uses shock to demand attention. World War I posters, for instance, used cutting-edge technology and jarring compositions to create a strong impact. John Hartfield’s counter-propaganda during the rise of fascism in Germany used shocking photomontages to convey powerful political messages, turning the enemy’s shock tactics against them.
Napoleon’s use of art to project a heroic image of himself crossing the Alps is a classic example of how propaganda can distort truth. The painting by Jacques-Louis David portrays Napoleon in a grand, confident pose, while the reality was far less glamorous.
Visceral emotion plays a crucial role in political narratives. Authoritarian regimes use design to transform flawed ideologies into captivating visions that can warp an entire population’s psyche. The facade of Italian dictator Benito Mussolini at the Palazzo Braschi, with its repetitive “yes” messages, is a stark reminder of how design can manipulate and control, leaving a permanent mark on the collective consciousness.
Governments and political leaders use design to project an image of unquestionable power, spending decades developing custom typefaces and currencies, making shocking posters, and attaching political significance to ordinary objects. This veil hides their vulnerability from public view. Propaganda is about creating a unifying message, often at the expense of truth and critical thinking.
In conclusion, design and art are powerful tools for propaganda, capable of expressing ideas that cannot be said out loud. They can manipulate reality, hiding sinister intentions behind visual spectacle. While propaganda isn’t necessarily bad, there is a responsibility to understand the power of our creations and the narratives they serve. The most powerful weapon against propaganda is curiosity and the willingness to look beyond the facade.