Why Emojis Aren’t Actually Restricting

I remember the first time I learned about the existence of an emoji keyboard. After I got my first handheld smart-device, the iPod Touch, in 2013 and first began texting, I realized that emojis could be used to liven up a boring text and also add some depth and nuances to my words.

Since then, emojis have become more and more commonplace in digital communication, a trend reflected by the large increase in the number, variety, and quality of Apple’s emojis over the years. Emojis gave texts a new dimension: graphics. In a world where texting is quickly becoming the preferred and convenient form of communication, emojis allow users to quickly express a feeling or idea that would take much longer to express in words, which could be interpreted differently by different people.

What I came to notice, however, was that certain emojis were not used the same way by me and my peers, American teenagers, as how they were intended to by their adult Japanese creators. For example, the smiling emoji with its tongue sticking out meant a teasing or playful expression to us but was originally intended to be an expression of hunger. This observation of the disparity of emoji meaning across different cultures led me to think about whether emojis were truly conducive to nuanced expression.

The thing is, no matter how many emojis are created, there will never be enough emojis to encompass the entire spectrum of human emotion. We make do with the emojis we have, oftentimes using an emoji that doesn’t quite represent what we’re feeling but is the closest compared to the others. In this way, emojis may be limiting expression in digital communication: we oversimplify what we are feeling and limit ourselves to expressing only the emotions that the emoji keyboard has options for.

On the flip side, emojis encompass the main range of emotions that people feel on a regular basis. It can be argued that more complicated emotions should be typed out in detail or just conveyed in person anyway. Emojis weren’t meant to represent complicated emotions in the first place — they are just a convenient way to express an emotion without having to go through the trouble of looking for the right words. A graphic is so much more telling and faster to pull up as well. In that way, they do their job, and they do it well. It may be our own fault for trying to use overextend the use of emojis in digital communication.

So have emojis given digital communication depth or hindered self-expression? Overall, I think that while emojis are limiting in some ways, in general people overuse them and stretch their purpose. Used within their intended range, emojis can enhance digital communication in a world where texting is more and more common.

So How Are You Actually Doing?

In American culture, it’s common to say “Hello, how are you?” as a standard greeting when interacting with strangers or acquaintances in a polite manner. A standard reply is “Good, and you?” to which the first inquirer will typically reply “Good.”

And that’s how the vast majority of conversations that start with “Hello, how are you?” go. Are both parties of the conversation actually doing well? Chances are at one point or another we’ve felt kinda crappy when being asked “how are you” but have still replied with “I’m doing well” because a) we don’t want others to know we’re down, b) we don’t want to waste time on the ensuing conversation about why you’re down c) it’s just a reflex for us to reply with “good/well” or d) we know that the inquiring party probably isn’t actually concerned about how you’re doing and is just asking that question as a formality.

The idea of asking how someone is doing after you haven’t seen them for a period of time is a nice one. We are concerned about someone’s well-being and want to make sure they are OK. Often this means offering our support or condolences when they’re not.

However, in reality the phrase “how are you” has lost this intention for many people and has instead become a hackneyed formalism. An increasing amount of people are now surprised when others actually start telling them how their day was or how they’re feeling, having not expected a real answer and not originally intending to listen to that answer either.

The use of “how are you” as a typical greeting in the United States is revealing of a characteristic of American culture: that people care about others’ emotional well-being, that there is an emphasis on an individual’s positive feelings.

However, what is concerning to me is that this habit of offering apathetic “how are you”s is fostering the opposite of what the phrase was originally meant to: it instead may be fostering a culture of fake or absent sincerity and concealing emotion.

Think about it: what does it mean that people ask  “how are you” without genuinely caring about the people they’re inquiring after? Why are they even asking if they don’t actually care? For a large number of people, it may be because asking is just a mindless reflex or they just want to keep up appearances. Either way, the sincerity is absent.

On the receiving end, people who just respond with “good” even when they aren’t feeling well are first of all lying, but secondly also building up a habit of denying the importance of their emotional well-being.

Imagine a world in which everyone who asked “how are you” genuinely cared about your well-being, and every time you replied honestly. Would perhaps there be more meaningful discussions between one another? Would perhaps mental health improve on a large scale? The only way to find out is to start actually meaning it when we ask “how are you?” or just don’t ask at all.

Analysis of a TED Talk about Vexillological Design

Digital storyteller Roman Mars presented a TED Talk titled “Why City Flags May Be the Worst-Designed Thing You’ve Never Noticed” in 2015.

The topic of flag design, also known as vexillology, may seem like a niche or irrelevant topic to some, but Mars’ TED Talk makes a strong case that vexillology is in fact a great starting point for understanding the principles of design and developing appreciation for design in all aspects of life. I left with a new understanding of design and its importance in everyday life: how to goal of design is to make life better and bring joy, and how paying attention to design can allow us to appreciate the “bits of genius” in the world that nameless designers have created for our lives to be a little better. I also learned the five main principles of flag design, and how they can be used to understand the design of almost anything: 1) keep it simple, 2) use meaningful symbolism 3) use two to three basic colors, 4) no lettering or seals, and 5) be distinctive (or be related).

Beyond the ideas presented, the style and clarity of Mars’ speech effectively achieved his purpose of informing his audience of what design is all about as well as bringing our attention to what constitutes good and bad design.

Mars’ style was conversational: he incorporated personal anecdotes and questions the audience might have to get the audience to relate on a personal level. He also incorporated humor into the talk, though not in a gaudy way like through jokes or slapstick humor, but more of a subtle wittiness that enhanced the talk and held his audience’s attention. Despite being conversational, Mars remained professional and was clearly well-informed about the topic of vexillology, citing sources of his information in the talk and other expert vexillologists.

One thing I will mention about his presentation style was that in the beginning Mars explained that he would essentially deconstruct an episode from his radio show, playing bits and portions from it by pressing a button. Because he chose this format of presentation, he had to sit at a table that held a lot of technology related to radioing, which may have taken away from the level of engagement the live audience felt during his presentation. Also, he included some random sounds and music from his radio show, which I felt detracted from his delivery because they did not seem to have much purpose and were at times distracting, though I think if I watched his talk again but looked at it as if he were reenacting a radio show the sounds would have made more sense.

Rather than show the difference between a speech and a presentation, Mars’ talk showed how the two could be melded into an ambiguous form of both. While he spoke for the majority of the time, he often played recordings of others speaking and his talk relied heavily on visual aids, which would lead me to label it more as a presentation than a traditional speech.